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Chapter Text

Rhaenyra left the solitude of her quarters through one of the many secret passage ways of the castle, feeling emboldened as she weaved out of the view of several guards on their nightly patrol of the keep.

After wandering through another hidden door and passage way, she took a deep breath as she entered her uncle's chambers.

Candlelight illuminated the lavishly furnished room, Daemon's silhouette outlined amongst the shadows as he reclined in a chair, nursing a goblet of wine. His silver Targaryen mane was half-pulled back while the rest hung down his shoulders. It was only when she drew closer that she realised his torso was bare, the skin of his back lashed with a mixture of pale and wine-coloured scars, some more freshly healed than others.

He was beautiful and god -like even from behind, and it made Rhaenyra stop in her tracks as the courage that propelled her earlier began to wane.

She'd always loved him. Always admired and idolised his very being as a child. The older she grew however, the more that admiration transformed into something else. Something as decadent and wicked as the man who sat before her. Something her thoughts only indulged in within the darkness of her bedchamber as she explored her body with self-pleasure.

Seeing him lounge upon the Iron Throne like he belonged there after a year of his absence had unfurled something deep within her. Her midnight fantasies seemed tame in comparison to the desire he'd elicited just from his mere presence alone.

"I said I didn't want to be disturbed", Daemon muttered with disdain, not bothering to turn and face the invader of his privacy.

Rhaenyra swallowed, smoothing her expression to one of indifference as she replied in High Valyrian, "Ao ōdrio issa uncle."

You wound me uncle.

Daemon's spine straightened as he turned to face her then, eyes glinting with surprise.

Rhaenyra was suddenly very aware of the state of her own undress, having left her chambers wearing only a thin nightgown. The long sleeves hung off her shoulders so that her collarbones were bared to the moonlight, displaying the necklace Daemon had gifted her only days before. Her long tresses had been unwoven from her braids, now hanging freely down to her waist.

He took in her appearance with nothing more than a raised brow and the ghost of a smile.

"Jorrāelagon niece, nyke forgot skorkydoso sneaky nykeā zaldrīzes ao could sagon."

Dearest niece, I forgot how sneaky a dragon you could be.

"Nyke istan taught ondoso se āeksio"

I was taught by the master.

It was him after all that had shown her every secret nook and cranny the castle harboured when she was a only a small child.

She stepped closer as he refilled his cup.

"Couldn't sleep?", he asked in the common tongue.

She shook her head. "I'm surprised to find you here, given your fondness for the street of silk."

Daemon smirked. "I may journey there in due time. What would the jewel of the realm know of such things anyway?"

"I know more than most."

" Well I don't doubt that", he replied silkily.

"If you wish me to go-"

"Nonsense. Come sit", he gestured to the seat beside him.

She sat before drawing in a sharp breath, noticing the bruised and bloody marks on Daemon's knuckles.

"Uncle, your hands..."

She reached over to the hand resting on the table between them without thought, lightly tracing the wounds with a delicate touch.

He didn't object, his eyes crinkling with amusement at her concern.

"Some thieves don't go quietly."

Rhaenyra remembered the council meeting earlier in the evening, Daemon attending in his golden cape and armoured suit after his patrol with the guard, his thirst for violence and blood oozing off him in spades.

She frowned, noticing the dried specks amongst the bruising, aware most of the blood didn't belong to him.

"I hope some poor father hasn't been slaughtered for stealing bread to feed his family", she mumbled, eyeing him with an expression of scrutiny.

His amethyst eyes lit up with danger as he leaned forward.

"Do you believe me to be so cruel?"

She raised an eyebrow, aware of the tales that his wrath could evoke. "I know there's few that are left unscathed being on the receiving end of your fire."

"Is that why you've come to my chambers? To play with fire?", he challenged lowly, alluding to something unspoken that she wasn't ready to voice.

She withdrew her touch with a shrug, hoping the rush of heat she felt wasn't staining her cheeks.

"I need a reason to spend time with my uncle?", she asked, feigning innocence.

Daemon appraised her as he took a sip of his wine, giving nothing away.

"I should hope not."

A moment of silence fell upon them, the sound of only the crackling fire in the corner drawing her attention. Her eyes remained fixed upon the flames as she let the quiet admission slip from between her lips.

"I've missed you."

"Se nyke ao", he murmured.

And I you.

"In my absence it seems your beauty has only grown as you've blossomed into a young woman", he added.

She knew the flush that had creeped up her neck was obvious now as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Ignoring his intense gaze, she grabbed his half empty goblet, finishing his wine in two gulps. He observed her with amusement but didn't comment.

"Father still sees me as a child, yet I've heard musings that the council wishes me to wed sooner rather than later", she mumbled with disdain, wiping the errant drop of wine that escaped from her lips with her thumb.

The very thought of baring children so soon filled her with dread.

He nodded with a frown. "I know many a noble house would be lining up to have your hand, though I believe none are worthy enough of you. Do any appeal to you dearest niece?"
 
"It's not like I'll have much choice in the matter. You know that from experience."

The comments he made about his 'bronze bitch' of a wife entered her mind.

"Be that as it may, if you have a preference I can use my seat on the council to sway the decision in a certain direction."

She raised a mischievous eyebrow at him. "Because the council is absolutely bewitched by your charming ways and quick wit?"

He let out a genuine laugh, one reserved only for those nearest and dearest to him.

She shook her head with a small smile, once again reaching for his hand to trace the bruising of his knuckles.

"It's a naive notion, but a part of me always wanted love to be the deciding factor if I were ever to wed. Not politics or nobility. To marry someone who would allow me to be as free as my dragon. Childish really...", she trailed off.

"It's not childish at all Rhaenyra."

Her name on his lips felt heavenly. She met his look of sincerity while his thumb had begun drawing circles across her own hand.

"Well, having control over whom I wed is a fool's errand, but I can have control over other matters."

She swallowed her fear and got up from her position, coming to stand directly in front of the Prince . He raised an eyebrow and went to speak when she straddled him in his chair, placing a hand on his shoulder for support  while the other glided through his hair.

"Rhaenyra... ",  he breathed, in awe or apprehension, she was unsure.

"I don't want the first person I fuck to be some noble whom I do not love", she stated boldly, hoping her bluntness would coax him over the line.  

The fire in his eyes didn't match the gentle touch of his hands at her waist. He sighed heavily, an internal struggle shifting through his expression.

"I've seen the way you look at me Daemon, and it's not just with an uncle's fondness for his niece...", Rhaenyra brought one of his hands up to her clothed breast, the thin material already giving hint to an erect bud.

He sharply inhaled at the feel of her softness against his palm.

She whispered in Valyrian, "Nyke ūndegon se perzys zālagon iemnȳ ao hae ziry does isse issa."

I see the fire burn within you as it does in me.

" Viserys would have me assassinated-", he mumbled more to himself than her, desire lurking within his gaze.

"This has nothing to do with the King or anyone else. This is between you and me", she emphasised her point by further pressing her chest against his palm.

His forehead fell against hers, their lips almost making contact.

"Please Daemon, touch me. Show me how to please a man. To please you..."

His mouth was on hers immediately, and passion exploded from her veins. The taste of wine was further fueled by his tongue grazing her own. She almost whimpered at the growing hardness she could feel between her legs, adding to an already searing ache that was building within her.

His mouth laved at her neck, sucking and tasting the skin where her pulse beat. She couldn't help the high keen that left her mouth at the subtle feel of his teeth, causing him to detach from her throat and stare into her eyes with hunger.

"Stand by the bed", he commanded, tone dominant and self-assured.

Rhaenyra did as she was told, feeling the same thrill at his tone as when he commanded her to turn around days earlier before clasping the necklace that now hung from her throat.

She stood facing him at the foot of the bed before he languidly towered over her. With two fingers he ever so lightly pulled at the material of her nightgown, feeling the weight of the fabric before meeting her eyes.

"Take it off", he breathed softly.

He slowly walked backwards until he was leaning against a pillar, waiting for her to follow instruction.

With a shaky breath she allowed the loose nightgown to slip all the way down her arms into a pool at her feet, leaving her completely bare to him.

His eyes raked over her body as if attempting to commit every detail to memory.

"Gevie."

Beautiful.

She unashamedly took in his bare chest. Muscles built from strenuous combat training and dragon riding tensed under her appraisal. She let her gaze travel across his pectorals until finally landing on his face.

"Am I to your liking Princess?"

He knew he was lusted over by most women (and men) in the realm. Yet he wanted to hear the praise directly from her throat.

Instead she gave a coy smile, her defiant streak baring its teeth.

"You'll do."

Oh how he wanted to fuck the insolence out of her, but this wasn't about him. This was about her.

"Tell me Princess, what is it that you desire from me?"

He came towards her, scooping her hair over her shoulder and grazing her skin as he did so.

"Do you crave the gentle touch of a lover's caress?", he circled one of her pink buds with the ghost of a touch.

"Or would you prefer me to fuck you like one of my whores?", he bit out darkly before giving the same nipple a pinch.

Rhaenyra suspected this was a test. A last chance to back out if his words frightened her. Yet, both the options he had presented made her shiver with anticipation, and he must have read her mind.

"Greedy little dragon", he said, smirking with predatory glee.

"Take me as you please Daemon", she said, feeling brazen.

With a gentle nudge backwards, she sat on the bed to lay flat on her back.

He smirked at her obedience.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, preparing herself for what was to come.

"Do you touch yourself Princess?"

She nodded, her face nearly beet red.

"And what do you imagine when you bring yourself to the edge?"

She squirmed, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as she blurted her next words.

"About you uncle. On top of me, inside me...", she was cut off by his growl and abruptly pulled by her ankles, dragged so that her core was positioned by the edge of the bed.

Daemon kneeled between her thighs and latched his mouth onto her clit without preamble.

She nearly shrieked at the sudden onslaught, her back arching as he sucked and licked at her slit like a man starved. He devoured her as if she were made from the sweetest honeysuckle, groans tearing from his throat when she gasped like a wanton whore.  

Her high-pitched whines and keens were music to his ears. One of her hands had threaded into his hair while the other was clawing at the bedding in desperation. He brought a hand to her side, untangling her fist from the sheet and entwining their fingers together. His other hand replaced his tongue, a calloused thumb rubbing slow circles into her clit as he peppered kisses along her thighs and hip.

"How does this feel?"

"Like I'll die if you stop...like I'll die if you keep going", she sighed in desperation.

He lowly hummed as if in deep thought.

"Quite the predicament Princess."

"Daemon...", she warned pathetically.
 
A lengthy digit abruptly drew a line over her slit before sinking into her wet heat.

"Sīr ȳrda syt issa...", he hissed.

So tight for me...

She gasped, her core practically throbbing at the intrusion.

It gave him quite the thrill to know that he was the first to see or touch her this way.

A sudden thought occurred to him.

"Had you been kissed before tonight Princess?"

Rhaenyra nodded.

Daemon curled his finger upwards, suddenly feeling quite possessive over his niece.

"Oh? By whom?", he asked as he slid a second digit inside her.

" Ah..um ...", she struggled to think when he made a scissoring motion that stretched her tight core, "...Alicent! I practiced with her...", she sighed, too far gone to feel embarrassment.

He hummed with approval before softly biting her thigh.  

"Is that all you practiced with her?"

" Yessss ...", she all but hissed.

"Good, that's very good...", he cooed softly before she felt a third finger slither beside the others.

"Fuck", she swore under her breath.

Her hips began to gently move at a slow pace against his hand as he alternated between pressing the heel of his palm and his thumb on her clit. A familiar heat began to unfurl in her lower abdomen while she continued to ride his fingers.

"Such a good girl", he praised under his breath.

His words made her shudder, nearly sending her over the edge. She squeezed his hand as the pleasure grew to a point where only breathy pants escaped her mouth.

"Nyke emagon jiōraton ao dōna hāedar, ivestragī jikagon..."

I've got you sweet girl, let go...

Rhaenyra shattered, crying out as ecstasy burned through her entire body. Incoherent ramblings in Valyrian and the common tongue escaped her mouth while he continued to coil and plunge his fingers inside her. The waves of euphoria eventually subsided, leaving her trembling and breathless.

He withdrew his hand from her, observing his fingers in wonder as they glistened with her slick.

"Gaomagon ao jaelagon naejot sylutegon aōla?"

Do you wish to taste yourself?

She rose to her elbows, meeting his hand halfway before drawing all three digits into her mouth. She sucked the potent flavour with a depraved moan before he went to pull his hand away.

She let her teeth lightly scrape against the skin as he withdrew his fingers, which earned her a hiss and a feather-light tap against her cheek.

"Behave", he chastised before his face broke into a devilish grin.

She mirrored his expression before he laid beside her on the bed.

Rhaenyra let her hand trail over his sternum while she watched him breathe, feeling not unlike how she did after riding Syrax . Fulfilled and complete.

The breeches he wore showcased the large bulge that wanted to be set free.

"Nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon ao uncle, ry hen ao...", she breathed.

I wish to see you uncle, all of you...

Daemon licked his lips hesitantly before he pulled down his breeches, lifting his hips to expose his impressive length that stood firmly against his lower abdomen.

She stood to drag the rest of the material from his legs, leaving him completely exposed to her now. His muscular legs and thighs had been sculpted by a lifetime of dragon riding, making her mouth water.

"Gevie."

Beautiful.

His smile was cunning as she echoed his compliment.

She leaned down beside him again, head resting on her elbow while her hand drew delicate lines down his stomach. She teased him like that for a while, always stopping just short of his cock before resuming her path again.

"Ao indigon aōha biarves byka zaldrīzes", he gritted between his teeth.

You push your luck little dragon.

Rhaenyra grinned at the strange surge of power she felt over him until finally, she gently wrapped her hand around his length.

"Show me how uncle..."

Daemon covered her hand with his own, pressing so that her grip was tightened around him. He then dragged her hand up and down his length in a languid motion. After a few pulls, he let her continue on her own, lying back at the feel of her soft palm against his hardness.

She observed his reactions, his sudden intake of breath, the strain of the muscle in his jaw, the slight part between his lips...

After awhile , she took initiative, remembering her giggly discussions with Alicent over scandalous texts they'd discovered in the library.

Pulling upwards with more pressure, she ran a thumb over the head of his cock, smearing the drop of liquid that had formed there before sliding back down. This earned her a guttural groan as Daemon's eyes squeezed shut, only fuelling her fire.

"Sepār raqagon bona Rhaenyra...", he bit out between his teeth.

Just like that Rhaenyra...

His hips met her hands whilst his own drew into tight fists besides him, his breath becoming ragged.

She tugged faster as his muscles began to tense with exertion, face pulled taunt as if he were in agony.

"Ivestragī jikagon dōna Prince, nyke emagon jiōraton ao...", she mimicked sweetly.

Let go sweet Prince, I've got you...

A hoarse cry left his mouth, and feeling emboldened, she coiled her lips over the tip of his cock as he released.

"Fuck-", he gritted out in shock as she sucked his seed into her tight, wet mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head as his orgasm was drawn out further, nearly bucking his full length into her mouth.

His hips eventually relaxed back onto the bed, and she let his length go with a sweet pop of her lips.

He panted roughly with strained effort, staring at her as if she were a goddess in human form.

"Rhaenyra...", he breathed, lost for words.

She smiled, content that she'd given him the same pleasure that he'd already given her.

It only made her hunger for more, but she glanced at his softening cock, the length still impressive in its' deflated state.

He took note of her gaze and a wicked grin came over his sharp features. He slid up the length of the bed and laid back down, gesturing for her to follow.

She did, raising a curious eyebrow when he pulled one of her legs to kneel beside him, practically sitting her astride his chest.

"Māzigon sit va issa laehurlion dōna Princess."

Come sit on my face sweet Princess.

She gasped, self-consciousness rearing its' ugly head along with a carnal craving that threatened to take her apart there and then. Wetness already began to pool at her core, her slick dripping onto his chest.

The request was depraved and unheard of, yet she clenched at the mere thought.

He sensed her apprehension as he began drawing soothing circles into her hips.

"Nyke jaelagon naejot sylutegon ao arlī Rhaenyra, gaomagon issa syt aōla...", he said lowly.

I want to taste you again Rhaenyra, use me for your pleasure...

His words coaxed her slowly up his body until she was hovering just above his face, Targaryen mane fanned out across the pillow below.

"That's it...", he encouraged softly as she slowly lowered herself down.

Daemon leaned up to lick his tongue across her slit before scissoring through her wet folds.

She moaned with debauched elation, the sensation making her knees quiver as they struggled to hold her up through his lewd onslaught.

He sucked, licked and nipped at her core, hands digging into her thighs.

Her legs were beginning to shake and he noticed. Using his strong grip, he suddenly slammed her core directly onto his face, the entirety of her weight baring down on him.

She let out a shriek, attempting to pull away. He didn't let her however, clamping her down with an almost painful grasp.

Daemon groaned as he laved and sucked at her with renewed vigor, apparently not caring about a need for oxygen. Her hips began moving involuntarily, gyrating against the bridge of his nose and down to his mouth where his tongue awaited to slither through her folds.

He pulled from her briefly before she heard a muffled urging, "That's it sweet girl, fuck my face."

His words, their actions, it was all so perverse...yet she couldn't get enough.

She rode the sharp angular features of his face, the sinful slurp of his tongue making her shiver.

The floodgate broke without warning, biting into her fist so she could muffle her scream. Her hips kept moving in tandem with the waves of her orgasm, his approving groan further lashing the heat beneath her skin until finally she came down.

The intensity nearly had her buckle over, unshed tears in her amethyst eyes. With little grace she fell to the side of him, her own face crushed into the pillow as her body continued to shake from the aftershocks.

Daemon loomed over her with a look of concern, face covered in her slick. He scooped the liquid from his chin into his mouth before wiping the rest of his face on the back of his hand.

"Talk to me Rhaenyra, are you okay?"

She nodded as she caught her breath, her heart rate returning to normal.

"Yes...sorry I-"

"Don't apologise . Did I hurt you? Scare you?"

She shook her head, meeting his eyes.

"No not at all. I was just... overwhelmed I guess. I've never-...felt anything like that before. It was amazing...", she confessed.

He nodded, relief flooding him.

She took notice of the stiff length bobbing against his lower abdomen once again. He followed her gaze.

"We can stop now if you'd like", he said sincerely, more concerned with her well-being than a second orgasm.

"Absolutely not", she said with conviction, attempting to pull his weight on top of her.

He paused, gently angling her chin so their gazes were locked.

"Are you certain?", he whispered.

She leaned forward to kiss him tentatively, her lips brushing his before pulling away to look into his eyes once more.

"I've never been more certain of anything", she said honestly.

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment longer before giving her a nod, pecking her on the lips before positioning himself above her.

She felt the head of his length softly nudging at her core, moving up and down her folds to be coated in her slick.

A fresh spike of arousal awoke from her body, wanting nothing more than for him to take her maidenhood.

"Daemon, get on with it", she purred, earning her a sinful smirk from the man above her.

"Impatient are we?"

Before she could bite back a snarky retort, he sheathed himself inside her in one foul swoop, covering her body with his own completely. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders at the abrupt stretch. It ached and burned, but the pain was exquisite. It made her feel alive, knowing they were finally joined as one.

His breaths came out in ragged pants, holding still with great restraint as he observed her face.

"How does it feel?", he asked roughly.

"Hot...burning...full...perfect...", she rasped.

"How do I feel uncle, tell me please...", she breathed desperately.

"Wet...tight...fucking perfect", he groaned, "we fit perfectly together...", he trailed off as she rolled her hips slightly.

"Fuck", he bit out, trying to keep her hips still.

"Fuck me Daemon please...", she keened, all but begging for him to move.

With a shuddering breath, he retreated before sliding back in, causing them to both moan in unison. He did this a few times until his pace became more punishing, sweat forming along his silver brow.

"Rhaenyra...", he growled, forehead pressing against hers.

"Daemon", she whined, legs now securely wrapped around his hips.

The pain had subsided, with now only the foreign stretch and tingling synapses of pleasure spurring her on.

He was close, his thrusts becoming uneven and staggered. She wanted to feel his seed spill inside her, but she knew that was far too risky. Yet, she still hugged him closer, tighter...not wanting him to leave her empty.

"Avy jorrāelan Rhaenyra", Daemon husked, emotion welling in his eyes.

I love you Rhaenyra.

"Avy jorrāelan", she whispered back, her heart swelling in her chest.

I love you.

With a strangled sob, he pulled away, unsheathing himself from her sacred heat and finishing with his hand. Thick ropes of his seed lashed at her stomach, until finally he collapsed on top of her.

The weight and warmth of his body felt like home, his scent engulfing her. Rhaenyra had never felt so content and fulfilled in her entire life.

She felt more than heard his sleepy mumble against her ear.

"Issa prūmia iksos aōhon Rhaenyra."

My heart is yours Rhaenyra.  

Tears fell from her eyes as she smiled from ear to ear.

"Se ñuhon iksos aōhon Daemon."

And mine is yours Daemon.

Chapter Text

FOUR YEARS LATER... 

Rhaenyra fiddled with the piece of fabric that covered her Targaryen mane as she made her way through the dark corridors. 

She had been so sure that she'd discovered all of the hidden passages in the castle, yet Daemon had kept this secret pathway to himself, one that led directly into her chambers. 

Daemon. 

The King of the Narrow Sea. 

Before that day, the last time she had laid eyes on the man had been almost four years ago, though it had felt like a lifetime. 

The day after Rhaenyra had given Daemon her maidenhood, they hadn't had much chance to discuss what had transpired between them. Rhaenyra had watched him compete in the tournament, secret smiles and looks shared between them. Yet, she couldn't deny the sting she'd felt when he'd asked Alicent for her favour rather than her own. She hadn't had much time to dwell on it however, before it had been announced that her mother and brother had died on the birthing bed. 

Rhaenyra had heard whispers about what had happened, but her father's refusal to meet her eye or linger in the same room as her had all but confirmed it. The King had made a choice in desperation for a male heir, only for his wife and son to both die. 

Following the funeral, Rhaenyra had felt alone and abandoned in her grief. She'd hoped that her uncle would seek her out, craving his comfort and touch, wanting to be held in his arms as he kissed away her tears. But alas, he didn't. 

Rhaenyra's heart was too broken to protect any semblance of pride, so she'd decided to sneak into Daemon's chambers as she did so the last time. To her disappointment however, the room was void of life aside from the dying embers of the fireplace. 

She'd slept in his bed alone amongst his smell and the memories of their bodies joining, her tears staining the pillow. When the coming of dawn approached, she'd retreated back to her quarters, feeling more alone than ever. 

When Ser Otto had shared with the King that Daemon had been spending his days and nights at pleasure houses, celebrating and jesting over the 'heir for a day', Rhaenyra had to bite her tongue to keep the tears at bay. 

She couldn't have anticipated being named heir over her uncle, even if the Prince had been behaving like a spoilt brat. But to be used as a pawn in the King's game of spite against his own brother was only another thorn in her side. 

During the ceremony however, she couldn't help but scan the crowd for Daemon, even if he had been banished. After all, he wasn't known for following rules and despite the circumstances, she'd wanted his support. But he had left during the festivities without saying a word, Caraxes in tow. 

Six moons later, they met again at Dragonstone. The retrieval of Dreamfyre's egg had been her main goal, yet her heart had told her otherwise. 

Rhaenyra knew Daemon's ego had taken a hit over herself being named heir, and his reckless stunt had been nothing but a cry for attention in the form of a true Targaryen tantrum. But she knew Otto would take any chance to further antagonise Daemon, resulting in unnecessary bloodshed. And though they hadn't spoken since her mother's funeral, Rhaenyra knew that Daemon would never hurt her. 

Deep down however, she had also sought closure. Wanted him to look her in the eye after being apart for so long. 

Rhaenyra had surprised herself during their meeting. Upon her arrival on Syrax, she'd felt powerful and angry. Her heart had fluttered as her eyes locked with Daemon's, but she kept her clarity and composure to the forefront. 

She'd always been adept at reading him. To the witnesses of their exchange, Daemon probably appeared stoic and threatening. Rhaenyra however, saw through that. The slight quirk of his mouth, the crinkle by his eye, the softening of his jaw. She could tell he was surprised to see her, impressed by her audacity to confront him and comforted by her presence.

Scolding him in High Valyrian had brought a semblance of familiarity to their predicament, as if they were debating something trivial. 

She fought the urge to mention the unmentionable. To ask the questions that had been plaguing her thoughts for over half a year. 

Why weren't you there for me when I needed you the most? Why didn't you come to me? Did you regret taking my maidenhood? Is that why you never touched me again? Am I now just another whore in your eyes? Why didn't you say goodbye? Why aren't you throwing your arms around me and begging for my forgiveness? 

But she didn't. Instead, she questioned him over his thievery of the dragon egg, over his trespassing of Dragon Stone Keep, over his hostility towards her being heir. 

The tension crackled between them all the same as she called his bluff, both sensing what was unspoken. His eyes gave a hint of vulnerability that she was about to unravel when he strode away, throwing her the egg none-too-gently in the process. 

Rhaenyra had felt a sense of satisfaction as she left astride Syrax, like she'd won whatever game had transpired between them. Yet, fragments of their conversation still haunted her... 

"You already have a wife." 

"Not one of my choosing." 

She may have imagined it. Reading between the lines when there was nothing there to be read. But it sparked an inkling of hope within her, that maybe what Daemon had whispered to her earnestly within the candlelight of his bed chamber had not been just empty words. 

My heart is yours Rhaenyra. 

That hope, that ache, that longing...she carried it with her for years. Through the pain of watching her father marry her best friend. Through the jealousy of her father finally being happy with the blessing of a son. Through the outrage of being presented to the highest bidder once she'd come of age for her forced hand in marriage. 

And even after things had settled and her father had assured Rhaenyra of her place, of her freedom to select a husband of her choosing...her thoughts immediately went to him. 

Daemon. 

And now finally, here he stood before her, silver mane cropped short and slicked back, mostly hidden by his hooded cloak. He still exuded an aura of godlike mischief, but his stature held renewed purpose. 

Rhaenyra had searched her feelings when she first saw him in the throne room earlier. Had she still been cross with him? A conflicted elixir of hurt and longing had swirled beneath her chest. She managed to keep both well guarded however, behind a mask of indifference and their usual exchange of quips in the garden. 

At the sight of him waiting for her now, she couldn't help the smile that broke across her face, feeling giddy with the thrill of doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. 

Daemon's amethyst eyes took in her apparel with the ghost of a smirk, the baggy men's clothing he'd left in her room now hanging from her small frame. 

He turned to leave and she followed him down the steps that led outside the guarded gates of the Red Keep. 

"Where are we going?", she let her excitement slip at the prospect of freedom, even if only for a night. 

He only grabbed her hand, hulking figure appearing even more formidable underneath the cloak that shrouded his features in shadow. 

They walked various streets and alleys lined with inns and taverns. Drunk revellers danced and fucked along the cobblestone paths, performance artists breathed fire and juggled daggers, and street merchants haggled food, drink and trinkets for sale. 

Rhaenyra observed the sights and sounds in wonder, small folk shoving past her as if she were just shit on their boots. She loved it. 

Daemon kept a firm grasp of her hand as he led her into a tavern that was loud with thunderous music and revelry. She sat at a table in the corner as he fetched what she hoped was wine. 

Rhaenyra couldn't wipe the smile from her face, even with the strong scent of vomit and urine clouding the atmosphere. 

A mug of ale was thrust on the table before Daemon sat across from her with a sly grin. 

"A feast for the eyes isn't it Princess?" 

"And the nose", she tapped the side of her nose before having a swig of her drink. She scrunched her face up at the taste but swallowed another mouthful. 

He observed her with a smirk as they sat in comfortable silence, taking in their surroundings. She downed two more mugs before her mouth began moving faster than her brain. 

"Tell me Uncle, have you ever spied on me through that secret door in the walls of my chamber?" 

He put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. 

"Ao ōdrio issa Princess." 

You wound me Princess. 

She rolled her eyes. 

Since his arrival, they'd only exchanged mild pleasantries. Now, she felt more uninhibited with both their identities concealed from prying eyes. More freedom to speak her mind. 

Another tavern and mug of ale later, she did just that. 

"Don't think this changes anything Uncle", Rhaenyra bristled. 

"What ever do you mean sweet niece?", he said without a shred of innocence. 

"I'm still cross with you." 

He fiddled with his own cup, appearing disinterested but gave a nod nonetheless. 

"I know." 

The conversation stalled until finally she couldn't take it anymore. 

"You don't want to know why?" 

"I can hazard a guess at the many wrongs I've committed. One being my unfortunate incident with the egg..." 

She snorted. "I wasn't talking about the egg, and you know it." 

Daemon appraised her with an uncharacteristically serious look. 

"I needed you", she whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

He avoided her eyes with a shake of his head. 

"You never needed me Rhaenyra." 

"That wasn't for you to decide." 

He opened his mouth to respond but she didn't let him. 

"You left me without a word. I had to rely upon council meetings just to know if you were alive", she spat. 

"Rhaenyra I-" 

"Did you mean anything you said to me? Before you left?" 

She knew that he knew what she was referring too. 

My heart is yours Rhaenyra. 

He briefly flinched before sharply concealing the emotion behind a mask of indifference, glancing at the patrons as they broke into a sea shanty. 

She abruptly stood from the table as she felt hot, angry tears begin to prickle the corners of her eyes. 

"I wish to leave." 

Rhaenyra turned and made her way back out onto the bustling street, the cool night air softening the heat that stained her cheeks. 

The cloaked figure of Daemon strode past her into the night. 

A part of her wanted to go. To turn her back on him and make her way back to the Red Keep, but she wasn't ready to return to the obligations that awaited her. 

Begrudgingly, she trailed after Daemon's shadowy figure. 

She came to stand beside him in a crowded square, many shrieking with laughter as an absurd performance played out on the small stage. The actors humorously mimicked the current political climate, a man with blotchy make-up and a bad wig playing the part of Rhaenyra. She frowned as the crowd booed at the prospect of her being on the Iron Throne, comparing her to Aegon on the basis of having no cock. 

Her inebriated state propelled her to shout obscenities along with the crowd. 

"Lies! Slander!", she slurred as the makeshift theatre dissembled. 

"Jest if you will, but many of the small folk like to believe that as a male, Aegon should be the heir", Daemon said pointedly. 

"Their wants are of no consequence." 

She turned away and he trailed beside her, letting out a humourless chuckle. 

"They're of great consequence if you expect to rule them one day." 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. 

"For one night I wish to be free of the burdens of my inheritance" she said, pausing in front of a vendor who carried a tray of sweets. 

She ate one, and offered Daemon another. 

"Four copper street rat, in King's Landing we pay for our pleasures", Daemon mildly scolded, challenging her with his eyes. 

She shot him a bemused look, both knowing she wasn't carrying any money. 

A thought suddenly struck her. With a devilish glint in her eye, she through the sweet at Daemon and made a run for it. 

Rhaenyra heard the commotion behind her but she allowed her legs to carry her through dark side streets and alleyways, running as fast as she could until her muscles screamed in protest. 

Down an empty alley, a familiar knight stopped her in her tracks. 

"And who might you be running from now?" 

After a beat, recognition flooded both their expressions. 

"Ser Harwin..." 

"Princess?" 

"Don't", she pleaded. 

He glanced behind her before a knowing smirk slid across his face. 

She turned to see Daemon's hooded figure striding down the alleyway after her. 

Ser Harwin let go of her arm and moved to let her pass. 

"You take care boy. Next time you might not be so lucky", he said, giving a nod to Daemon as he walked away. 

"Enjoyed that did you?", Daemon mumbled as if she were a petulant child. 

She smiled gleefully. "Who knows when I'll next taste freedom." 

He huffed out a laugh as they fell in step, her hand easily sliding into his. 

They walked hand in hand down the infamous Street of Silk, Rhaenyra bumping into his side to make him laugh again. It felt so easy to be like this with him, to feel so carefree. 

Daemon kept their fingers entwined as he led her into a particularly lavish pleasure house. 

The main room was crowded with patrons, dancing and drinking their fill, whores perched on many a person's lap. After a moment, she realised she'd been left alone in the crowd, Daemon now observing her from the other side of the room. 

He had shed his cloak, now in a loose white shirt and tan breeches. His short silver hair beamed amongst onlookers unashamedly, although she imagined that most were used to the Prince's presence in this part of King's Landing. 

Rhaenyra accepted a cup of wine from a tray offered to her, the overtly sweet fluid flooding her mouth with the taste of cherries. 

Rhaenyra felt Daemon's stare as her attention was captured by a group of performers in the centre of the room. She watched with fascination, their naked bodies twisting and contorting in an erotic display, fuelling an already burning fire that blazed within her lower stomach. 

The alcohol-induced flush now spread down her neck and chest for a different reason entirely. 

She met Daemon's piercing amethyst gaze again, unashamed of the carnal heat that lurked within her own. 

Memories of that night so long ago flashed through her mind. When Daemon had brought her undone with his mouth and hands, breaching her fully and completely until she was no longer chaste and pure. 

Ser Criston had proven a soothing balm to many a lonely night of longing over the years, his gentle but firm touch allowing her to lose herself for moments at a time. Afterwards however, when Rhaenyra lay in a sweaty heap once he had returned to his station at her door, she felt hollow. Empty. And if she were lucky, sleep would wash over her before the looming sadness did. 

Nothing compared and she knew nothing would ever compare... to him. 

Daemon. 

He had made his way over to her whilst she was lost in thought, taking hold of her hand once more. He guided her through the throngs of people, removing the now empty chalice from her hand and placing it on a tray. He led her to another section of the pleasure house whilst removing her head covering to let her silver tresses fall freely down her back. 

He then gently pulled her deeper into the brothel, the rooms becoming darker and more heady in scent. The sounds and aromas of fucking consumed her, each curtain clad room growing more lewdly intimate with each step she took. 

The surrounding sinful decadence overwhelmed her senses, leaving her disoriented and pressed against Daemon. She attempted to right herself but his firm hand snaked around her stomach to hold her in place, her back leaning against his torso. 

Rhaenyra didn't imagine a brothel to be like this. Women fucking men. Men fucking men. Women fucking women. Groups taking turns to pleasure one another with different instruments, some blindfolded by silk. 

"What is this place?", she breathed. 

"This is where people come to take what they want", he answered lowly. 

Daemon watched her as her gaze circled around the room, taking in the scenes before her. 

"Why did you bring me here?", she asked softly, feeling his breath tickle the back of her neck. 

"To reassure you." 

Rhaenyra turned to face him, raising an eyebrow in question before he referred to their conversation in the garden from earlier. Over her concerns of losing her freedom, preferring a life of solitude over marriage. 

"Marriage is a duty, but it doesn't stop us from doing what we want...", he murmured as his forehead pressed against her own. 

She felt his breath on her mouth, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them. 

Rhaenyra didn't have to however, Daemon's nose nudging hers before he brushed his lips over her mouth. The action was tentative but his eyes roared with primal hunger. She brought her head up this time, letting her mouth linger over his until he ran his tongue over her bottom lip. She followed his tongue back to his mouth, finally molding their lips together in unison. His hands cupped her jaw as if she might break, too soft for her heart to handle.

The kiss elicited a searing path of heat down to her already throbbing core, realising just how much she craved him. 

"Fucking who we want...", he husked against her mouth mid-kiss, his fingers trailing into her hair and the sides of her face. 

Rhaenyra could tell he was showing great restraint, his soft touch barely masking the fire behind his words. 

She met his kiss with more force, hoping to inspire the passion that she knew lurked beneath his tentative ministrations. He insisted upon being gentle however, treating her as if she were a delicate piece of porcelain. 

She decided upon a different approach. 

"Did you bring me here to fuck me like one of your whores?", she asked boldly against his mouth. 

Daemon detached their lips, staring at her with an intensity that resembled a combination of anger and lust. 

"Or are we still pretending that night never happened?", she breathed. 

The hands that gripped the sides of her face became more forceful, his head dipping to hers in a hard collision of their lips. She felt him guide her backwards until her back met a wall, couples and throuples writhing in ecstasy around them. 

Their mouths parted as his hands skated across her hips and ribcage. They inhaled each other's oxygen, the taste of wine and cherries on their breath. 

"That night is burned into my memory Rhaenyra. Your taste...", he said darkly before kissing her slowly and deliberately, leaving her breathless. 

Daemon mouthed the shell of ear as he continued, "The delicious sounds you made when I curved my fingers just so...", his hands had travelled under her tunic, his fingertips grazing the bare skin above the waist of her breeches. 

"How you squeezed my cock when I was inside you...", she felt his hardness thrust over her clothed core, his bulge dragging against her with a languid rut of his hips, "I remember everything..." 

Rhaenyra took advantage of his parted lips to slowly flick her tongue against the roof of his mouth. He moaned with a shuddering breath, so she repeated the act, earning a shudder from him. 

She separated slightly to look up at him, a tear running down her cheek. 

"Ao ōdrikagon issa", she whispered. 

You hurt me. 

His eyes were remorseful, the apology she craved lurking deep within his gaze. 

"Pār ōdrikagon issa arlī." 

Then hurt me back. 

Daemon kissed her hard then, as if trying to kiss away the pain he'd caused her. She bit his lip as punishment, a groan emanating from his throat at the broken skin. She soothed the bite with her tongue, tasting the metallic flavour of blood mixed with her salty tears. 

"Make me forget", she panted against his mouth. 

Forget what he'd done. Forget the suitors that awaited her tomorrow. Forget the obligation of marriage hanging over her head. 

During their scuffle and without her noticing, he'd managed to untie the lace holding her tunic together, her breasts all but exposed. 

Daemon spun her so that her back was to him, roughly pulling her breeches down her legs as she leaned her hands against the wall for support. His callous hands palmed her breasts, ghosting over her nipples with the subtle flick and press of his thumb. 

Rhaenyra mewled like a kitten, further pressing her chest against his palms. He left one hand to continue grasping and teasing her breast while the other travelled back down, tracing over her stomach until it cupped her core firmly. 

She inhaled sharply at the pressure she desperately needed, all but bucking against his hand. 

"Already ripe for me my sweet...", Daemon hissed against her ear, his fingers gliding through her wet folds with ease. 

His digits were coated with her slick in a matter of seconds before he brought them up to his mouth to lick them clean. 

"Se dōna ao issi Princess...", he hummed with approval before sliding his fingers into her mouth. 

And sweet you are Princess. 

She moaned at the residual flavour, sucking them further towards the back of her throat until she gagged, covering his hand in saliva. 

"Fuck Rhaenyra...", he nearly stammered. 

Shoving his own breeches down his thighs, she felt him hot and ready at her centre. She pushed back against him, only for him to retreat just out of reach. 

"Daemon-", she warned before she was cut off with a her own high-pitched whine. 

He'd entered her in one swift movement, sheathing himself completely. He gave her no time to adjust, setting a rigorous pace as he fucked her against the wall. 

"Skoros istan bona dōna hāedar?", Daemon mocked as she whimpered obscenely. 

What was that sweet girl? 

He took pity on her though, peppering kisses down the side of her neck and shoulder, one of his hands covering hers on the wall. 

Rhaenyra leaned her head back against his shoulder as he continued to thrust into her, punishing and relentless. 

"Have you fucked anyone else in my absence?", he asked roughly, hot breath menacing against her ear. 

She could only nod, unable to lie in this state. 

He clicked his tongue with disapproval but she wasn't having it. 

"Sepār hae ao emagon Daemon", she bit out defiantly. 

Just as you have Daemon. 

He growled, hand moving to grip her throat, holding her firmly to him as she muttered something filthy under her breath. 

"Say that again,", he groaned. 

"Nyke nykeēdrosa aōha līve." 

I'm still your whore. 

His pace slightly faltered, nearly tipping over the edge at her words and yet, he recoiled in disgust. 

He withdrew from her completely, causing Rhaenyra to whimper at the loss. 

She was spun back around to face him. 

"You stupid little girl. You think that's all you are to me? Just another whore?", Daemon seethed. 

Rhaenyra had to supress a laugh, settling for a surprised snort as she gestured to their surroundings. 

"You're fucking me against a wall in a brothel." 

Her tone was lightly teasing but both their expressions grew serious, his eyes boring into hers as the situation seemed to dawn on him. 

She went to kiss him, wanting to continue drowning out the rest of the realm while they still had this moment together. 

Daemon flicked his head away, breathing hard as he stared at her with an emotion she couldn't pinpoint. 

She tried again, using her hand at the nape of his neck to pull his mouth to hers. She managed to brush her lips against his chin as his head fell forward, face briefly shielded in the crux of her shoulder before retreating again. 

Rhaenyra moved once more in desperation to kiss him deeply, but he pulled his face out of reach, sighing with a pained expression as he squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly slammed his fists against the wall either side of her head, fixing his breeches before storming off. 

She stared after him in shock, cold disappointment leaving her feeling bare. She pulled the sides of her tunic closed, quickly lacing it together before pulling up her breeches. 

She retraced her steps to the main room, finding no trace of him. 

The familiar urge to cry stirred in the back of her throat as she made her way back to the Red Keep. Rejecting her was one thing, abandoning her in a brothel outside the castle gates after dark was quite another. 

The ale and wine had intensified her emotions, while Daemon had lit her body alight without putting out the fire. 

Rhaenyra thought of Ser Criston who probably still stood guard at the door to her chambers, hopefully oblivious to her escape. 

He would satisfy her body's need for release if she asked. Her heart on the other hand, would continue to shatter long after his retreat. 

After all, it was the sweetest agony to love Daemon Targaryen.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra could feel her uncle's stare bore into her skull as she looked upon the guests in the crowded hall. She made an effort to not return his gaze, partially shielding herself behind her father's side as the King stood, making a speech on her impending marriage to Laenor.

Daemon's appearance at the prenuptial festivities hadn't entirely surprised her, but his gall to stare at her so openly was beginning to wear her thin. After all, he was partially at fault for this.  
 
She wasn't blameless amongst the scandal that had erupted from their night in King's Landing. She had been more than a willing participant, though her naivety had gotten the better of her. She should have suspected that Daemon had ulterior motives to their escapades, and yet she truly had been blindsided by his request to the King...to marry her.
 
If he had made his intentions clear, if they had sought the King's permission together, if he had went about the proper order of things...she could have been betrothed to him at this very moment.
 
But then again, he wouldn't be Daemon Targaryen.
 
She could have thrown the leg of poultry that sat upon her plate at her uncle's smirking face. He craved power and he had used her to that end.  
 
Rhaenyra looked to her cousin and soon-to-be husband, who gave her a warm smile. Despite the circumstances, she was thankful that Laenor was to be her betrothed. He was kind and understanding of the predicament that they both faced. Both their interests lied elsewhere, and that suited them both just fine.
 
Throughout the evening, she was surprised to actually be enjoying herself. She'd danced the night away with Laenor and Ser Harwin before Daemon had stepped in.  
 
"May I Ser Harwin?", he interjected with a pat to the knight's shoulder.
 
"Of course my Prince", Ser Harwin said without argument, leaving them be.
 
Daemon slowly stepped past Rhaenyra, gesturing for her to follow. She did so begrudgingly, making their way through the crowd until Daemon circled in on her, now both partially hidden from the King's view as others danced around them.  
 
He bent his head, speaking earnestly in their mother tongue.  
 
"Iksos bisa skoros ao jaelagon?"
 
Is this what you want?  
 
"Nyke istan daor aware bona skoros nyke jeldan mattered naejot ao", she drawled.
 
I was not aware that what I wanted mattered to you.  
 
"Bisa iksos daor syt ao. Laenor iksos nykeā sȳz vala se nykeā sȳz azantys. Ziry jāhor bore ao senseless."

This is not for you. Laenor is a good man and a fine knight. He will bore you senseless.  
 
"Dīnilūks iksos mērī nykeā dārōñe kȳvanon, nyke rȳbagon", she threw his own words back at him.  
 
Marriage is only a political arrangement, I hear.
 
"Ñuhon istan adhirikydho tetan."  
 
Mine was recently dissolved.
 
"Sīr gūrogon issa, pār. Emagon bisa daor issare aōha kȳvanon? Nyke daor yet dīnilūks yn se jēda rēbagon adere. Ao emagon zōbrie mandia. Nektogon rȳ issa kepa's kingsguard. Gūrogon issa naejot zaldrīzesdōron se mazverdagon issa aōha ābrazȳrys", she baited.  
 
So take me, then. Has this not been your purpose? I am not yet married but the hours pass swiftly. You are surely armed. Cut through my father's Kingsguard. Take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife.

He clawed at the side of her neck, appearing as if he wanted to devour her then and there regardless of their surrounding audience.

Rhaenyra turned away, withdrawing from his grasp and striding out of the banquet hall. She kept walking, feeling him trail behind her as she entered a nearby empty corridor. He suddenly pulled her by the arm into a dark alcove, concealing them both in shadow.  
 
"What do you think you're doing?", she bristled as he closed in on her.
 
Daemon once again gripped the sides of her jaw, kissing her hard with a crazed passion that bordered on rage. There was the clash of teeth and flavour of blood as she raked her fingers through his shorn mane, pulling at the tendrils sharply as punishment. It only fueled his fire, a dark growl followed by the brutal force of his body pressing her against the wall. It triggered the memory of him leaving her high and dry the last time they saw each other.
 
When his tongue sought entrance into her mouth, she bit down hard, forcing him to detach from her.  
 
"Fuck", he seethed, eyes flaring as they both took in each other's bloody and bruised lips.  
 
"You don't get to do this again. Not anymore. I am to be married", she stated firmly.  
 
He shook his head with a cruel sneer. "You know he won't make you happy, not like I can."  
 
"Oh because you're first wife was so enamoured with you? My condolences by the way", she mocked, well aware the Lady of Runestone's death was no accident.
 
"Exactly. A forced union of political strategy does not suit either of us. Dragons should not be chained."  
 
"And you would not seek to chain me? To use me to your own end, towards your own ambition for power?"  
 
"You know we are strongest together, but I could give a fuck about politics", he slid down her body to kneel at her feet, his eyes now dark saucers that burrowed into her soul.  
 
"You can bring me down to my knees with or without the throne. I want you because you're mine Rhaenyra", he rasped with a fierce sincerity that was akin to knives piercing her heart.

Rhaenyra had to swallow the ripple of emotion he ignited, had to quash the belief that his words were true. She couldn't continue to indulge in the fever dreams that plagued her very being, not anymore.
 
"You are the most arrogant, vindictive, spoilt, devious-", she broke off her half-hearted attempt at a scolding when Daemon lifted the skirts of her dress to cloak himself underneath, his hot breath against the bare skin of her thigh.
 
"Flattery will get you everywhere Princess", he husked darkly.
 
"Daemon-"  
 
He roughly pulled her small cloth aside to languidly consume her whole.  
 
She bit down on her fist as she attempted to find some shred of composure.  
 
He relished every inch of her mound, swiping his tongue between her folds before sucking at her clit. He lapped at the nectar that pooled out of her with each sordid assault of his mouth, indecently groaning at her heady sweetness.  
 
Rhaenyra had to bite her lip to keep from screaming, her hands now occupied by a tight grip on the wall behind her for stability.  
 
'Nyke'd jāhor morghūljagon rȳ aōha kris lo ao gōntan sīr udrāzma ziry", he mumbled between lashings of his tongue.  
 
I would die between your legs if you did so command it.  
 
"Nyke'd obūljagon rȳ aōha dekossa sepār naejot sylutegon ao toliot se toliot arlī."  
 
I'd grovel at your feet just to taste you over and over again.  
 
"Se nyke'd ossēnagon mirre qilōni'd sylugon naejot lua issa hen ao, issa jorrāelagon."  
 
And I'd kill any who'd try to keep me from you, my love.  
 
She felt the tears trickle down her cheeks as Daemon continued his onslaught.
 
"Ao sagon tolī paez. Ao ēdan tolvie iderennon naejot jikagon rȳ se dārōñe tradition se epagon se dārys syt zȳhon tala's ondos. Naejot epagon issa, mijegon verdagon qrīdronnor", she whispered.
 
You're too late. You had every opportunity to go through the royal tradition and ask the King for his daughter's hand. To ask me, without causing chaos.  
 
Rhaenyra felt the hint of teeth bare down against her nub and she was gone, suppressing the obscene whimpers that tumbled from her lips. She shook and writhed against the wall until finally, Daemon rejoined her at eye level, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.  
 
"The situation was not that simple. Otto was still in your father's ear-"  
 
"Nothing is ever simple with you Daemon. Nothing", she muttered with defeat.  
 
She placed a hand on his chest without thinking, craving the warmth of his skin as she attempted to collect herself.

Meeting his eyes with a cool stare, she said with a sad indifference, "There's nothing to be done. I am to wed Laenor, bare his kin and inherit the crown."

Daemon blew out a sigh, but his expression was calculated. He observed her for a moment longer as he mulled over her words until finally, he broke the silence.

"Okay. Wed the boy. Squeeze out a few of his offspring. But mark my words Rhaenyra, we will be together. You will be my wife, birth true-blooded Targaryen heirs, and sit upon the Iron Throne with me by your side. Whether it's as King's consort or your footstool, is entirely up to you", he stated blandly, as if bored of debating the matter any further.
 
She stared at him, perplexed at his certainty. "How can you be so sure?"  
 
"Because Rhaenyra, I want you, and I always get what I want", he said with the return of his devilish grin.
 
She let her lips softly smirk as she rearranged her dress to appear as though she hadn't just been tongue-fucked by Daemon Targaryen.  
 
"Beri quba riñnykeā hen nykea Prince", Rhaenyra quipped softly, tone light but thick with a familiar penchant that was unique only to them.
 
Spoilt selfish brat of a Prince.  
 
"Doru-borto riñītsos", Daemon mimicked her inflection, voice rich with a tender fondness that didn't match his words.
 
Stupid little girl.  

Chapter Text

10 years later...

Rhaenyra found her Uncle alone on the balcony, his shoulder-length hair appearing to glow underneath the moonlight.

Marriage to a good woman and fatherhood had changed him in more ways than one. She'd never dare label Daemon Targaryen as 'soft', his cold edges still as sharp as the day she last set her gaze upon him. If anything, he appeared to have become more stoical and less brash.

The Prince remained strikingly beautiful, even amongst the evidence of years gone by. The finest of lines teased at the corners of his eyes and mouth, his stature not as broad but still imposing.

"Uncle", she murmured softly, not wishing to disturb his solitude.

He didn't answer, continuing to stare across at the ocean that bordered Driftmark.

She tried again.

"Uncle, the girl's are asking for you."

Silence followed, and Rhaenyra was unsure if he simply hadn't heard her or if he was ignoring her.

She went to speak once more when a rough murmur was carried across the wind.

"I don't know what to say to them."

His candid husk took her aback and yet he continued to look across the dark horizon. She allowed his words to linger, coming to stand beside him as the waves crashed against the cragged shoreline below.

She wrestled with an appropriate response, unfamiliar with how to navigate Daemon's grief.

After a moment, she decided it was best to speak plainly.

"I don't think it matters what you say. I think just being there for them...is enough."

He huffed a noise of derision.

"Like your father was for you? Like I was?"

Memories of Rhaenyra's grief spent in isolation following her mother's death curdled between them.

"You've much changed since then Uncle."

"Is that so?", he said snidely, appearing to already discredit her answer.

Though abrasive, Daemon's familiar snark was almost comforting, as if a decade hadn't passed between them at all.

"Yes, you are much the same but also different. No longer a cunt, as such."

He breathed out a genuine laugh before finally turning his head to meet her gaze.

"I see your language has become much more colourful Princess."

She mirrored his smirk.

"You try living in that Red Keep for the last ten years. I can understand now why you were always travelling when I was younger, can't imagine why you continued to return."

"Well who else would be there to spoil you with trinkets and tales of adventure?"

A small smile formed on her lips as she quietly revelled in their back-and-forth, feeling a sense of ease settle between them.

"Nevertheless, the girls and you aren't alone Uncle. You have us. My boys especially seem quite taken with them too."

"Ah yes, your boys have quite the striking resemblance to their father. A tragedy, what happened to Ser Harwin", poorly concealed amusement crinkled at the edges of his voice.

If he wasn't mourning the passing of his wife and child, Rhaenyra would have slapped him.

Instead she turned to now keep her gaze firmly pinned on the dark horizon.

"Don't be cruel", she breathed, not trusting her voice to waver.

Ser Harwin had been a great source of comfort to Rhaenyra over the last ten years. A blossoming friendship had turned into something more, given the state of her marriage. He was a good and decent man, and if the circumstances had been different, she would have proudly claimed her boys as his. His death was a blight on her conscience, a penance he never deserved.

Rhaenyra felt Daemon's hand cover her own, pulling her away from her spiral of guilt.

"A poorly timed jest, I apologise Princess. I already see the fine young men those boys will grow to be, regardless of their hair colour."

She was surprised by his sincerity, amethyst eyes boring into hers with rare vulnerability.

"Truly?"

"Of course Rhaenyra. Not only is it Targaryen blood that runs through their veins, but it is yours. The quiet bravery, unwavering loyalty and gentle fire flickers within them as it did in you."

"Did? Does it no longer?", she quipped.

"On the contrary, your fire has long outgrown it's gentle embers Princess, and rightly so. It now blazes and burns any and all who dare underestimate you."

She bit back a grin, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Well I was wrong about one thing", she drawled.

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Ao sagon nykeēdrosa nykeā orvorta." 

You're still a cunt.

Daemon chuckled warmly before pulling her into an embrace, her head tucked underneath his chin as she leaned her cheek against his chest. Tension she wasn't aware she'd been carrying dwindled from her body with a quiet sigh. His arms around her felt like a sturdy anchor. Like she was finally home.

"Nyke've jeldan bisa, ao doru-borto riñītsos."

I've missed this, you stupid little girl.

This time, she allowed the smile she'd been suppressing to break across her face, the familiar taunt tugging on her heartstrings.

"Hae emagon nyke, beri quba riñnykeā hen nykeā Prince."

As have I, spoilt selfish brat of a Prince.

Rhaenyra appeared much the same to Daemon as she had a decade ago. The scorching fire behind her amethyst eyes still ablaze with an unrelenting fierceness that both terrified and excited him. Her words still familiar, if not more biting.

Her once-lithe body was now draped in motherhood. Wraith-like hips had widened into hourglass curves, wiry ribcage now quilted by a soft waist, delicate breasts having turned into billowing swells that graced her feminine frame with ease.

She was different yet the same. Beautiful, compelling and fierce.

Daemon wanted her just as much as the day he first had her.

My heart is yours Rhaenyra.

He had been truly fond of his wife, Laena. She had gifted him with two daughters and a semblance of peace in a time where he thought he could find none. A comfort and a reminder of the gentle treasures a life without politics and war could offer.

But even Laena had known, that deep down his heart and soul would always be tethered to another. Years and oceans apart hadn't changed that, and their reunion only confirmed it.

Rhaenyra. His twin flame.

Surprising himself, Daemon was even fond of her children. After all, they were hers. Dark curls didn't change the Targaryen streak that simmered within the boys. Her suggestion at promising the eldest two to his girls delighted him, already witnessing the fine match each pairing would make.

Despite the circumstances of his return, it felt right to be by Rhaenyra's side.

Rhaenyra was meant for the Iron Throne.

Observing her mercilessly defend her children against his brother's cunt of a wife, blood dripping down her porcelain arm in a steady flow of outrage, it only made Daemon burn for her with the heat of a thousand suns.

Once the cunts and leeches sailed back to King's Landing, their plan was set in motion.

Laenor's "death" was carried out accordingly, and finally Daemon and Rhaenyra were married, as witnessed by their children...their family.

Upon nightfall, Daemon's hands were tangled in Rhaenyra's hair, harshly teething at the side of her neck as she forced him backwards into what was once her space alone.

Now, it was their shared chambers.

They mirrored each other's soul and body, matching cuts across both their lips, matching ceremonial wedding robes draped across their bodies, and matching Targaryen blood that seared beneath both their veins.

Their twin cuts still stung with freshness, metallic sweetness searing their tastebuds as their wounds reopened with each drag of their mouths across one another's skin.

"Nyke've issare mirre hen ao syt tolī bōsa", Daemon growled against her cheek, licking a stripe up to her ear before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her lobe.

I've been deprived of you for too long.

Rhaenyra moaned in agreement, harshly tugging and pulling at his wedding robes, the tearing of rich fabric and heavy drags of breath roaring between them. She scraped her nails across the offending material until she felt skin underneath her fingertips, red raw indents already colouring the expanse of his bare flesh.

Daemon hissed against her mouth as his clothing was quickly discarded, allowing his naked body to be pushed onto the bed behind him.

"Se sir ao jāhor emagon issa, toliot se toliot arlī hae aōha ābrazȳrys", she breathed.

And now you will have me, over and over again as your wife.

He sat up, leaning to grab her hand to pull her towards him but she resisted, moving just out of reach.

"Impatient are we?", she swiped, not even bothering to hide the insatiable hunger lurking within her gaze as she took in the sight of his cock standing to attention.

"Ao jaelagon naejot mazverdagon aōha valzȳrys vēdros?", he panted, eyes swallowed by black voids of lust.

You seek to drive your husband mad?

She stood before him, eyes never leaving his as she disrobed, pulling the pins and braids from her hair until finally she was completely unravelled and bare.

He pulled the tie from his own hair, mane draping down to his shoulders as she came to sit on his lap.

Daemon's hands encircled her waist immediately, pulling her flush against his chest while her forehead rested against his.

"Ao istan va moriot sytilībagon syt issa Rhaenyra", he whispered.

You were always meant for me Rhaenyra.

"Kessa", she agreed.

Yes.

Rhaenyra then abruptly forced him back so he lay flat on the bed, his brows threaded in confusion.

"Yn ao istan ñuhon, gō nyke istan mirre aōhon", she teased, knowing full well he adored her from birth.

But you were mine, before I was ever yours.

He huffed out a laugh as she climbed atop his waiting length.

"Pār gūrogon issa hae aōhon byka zaldrīzes."

Then claim me as yours little dragon.

Rhaenyra was already dripping. Had been since she'd first laid her eyes upon him the day he arrived to lay to rest his lady wife.

He slid in with ease as she sank down on top of him, pelvis flush with his own.

Daemon hummed his throaty approval at the feel of her sheathing him so tightly within her silken cunt. She preened at the delicious stretch, feeling whole and complete with the fire between her legs.

She rested her palms against his chest, bearing her weight against him to keep him lying flat.

Rhaenyra then began to move slowly, their eyes firmly fixed on one another's as she rose so only the tip of him was inside her, before sinking back down to complete fullness. Her movements were deliberate and controlled, wanting to memorise the feel of every ridge and vein of his length, contracting her walls with each careful slide down.

Daemon's eyes were soon rolling into the back of his head, her agonising pace torturing him beyond madness. Each time he went to thrust up, she'd seize her movements, ripping a frustrated growl from the Prince's throat.

"You must take great care when riding a dragon Uncle", she mused in the common tongue, continuing her languid pace.

He threw his head back against the bed in frustration.

"Then fucking ride me niece before I eat you alive", he rasped dangerously low.

"You dare speak that way to your future queen?", she teased.

Rhaenyra swivelled her hips in a circular motion, causing his mouth to part in a silent plea though his blackened eyes glowered with a dark warning.

She took pity on him though, her own pleasure beginning to mount. She quickened her pace, finding his hands to clasp in her own amongst the tangled linen.

He made a sharp noise of relief as she rode him with abandon, staring up at her in awe with each movement of her body. He observed the pink flush spread from her chest to her neck, her face strained with effort with each rise and fall of her hips. Her head leaned forward slightly to curtain them both with her silver tresses, sweat dripping down her back and sternum. Her breasts lightly bounced with her movements, tempting him to feel their weight in his palms, but he resisted. He allowed her to have complete control, watching the goddess astride him bring herself to completion.

A strangled whine left her bloody lips as she began to reach the peak, her motions becoming erratic and uneven.

Daemon observed her through a heavy lidded gaze, a feral longing to hear her scream as she came apart making itself known.

"Bona's ziry Princess, gaomagon issa. Mazverdagon aōla māzigon va issa orvorta", he husked.

That's it Princess, use me. Make yourself come on my cock.

His words were her undoing, squeezing his hands with her own as her spine contorted. The orgasm blazed through her with a high-pitched scream, ecstasy and oblivion colliding within her core. She writhed above him as she rode out her high until finally her hips stilled.

Soft, breathy mewls escaped her mouth as he finally came to sit up, holding her close and drinking her in, still firmly encased inside her warm and wet heat.

He made soft noises of approval as he stroked his hands down her arms and through her hair.

"Such a good girl for me."

Her head fell into the crook of his shoulder as he cooed and praised her under his breath, marking her with bloody kisses to her neck and shoulder.

She laved at the devotion, at his gentle touch and comforting attention. She wouldn't be surprised if she were actually floating.

She went to move off of him but a rough squeeze to her hip kept her in place.

"Stay little one, you're warming my cock so nicely."

Rhaenyra looked at him then, his grin full of mirth.

"Ao ȳdra daor jaelagon naejot leghagon issa rūsīr aōha nūmo?"

You don't wish to fill me with your seed?

"Emagon issa lēda rūsīr aōha riñnykeā?", she continued to probe quietly.

Have me swollen with your child?

"īlva riñnykeā?"

Our child?

"Kessa, sepār ivestragī issa emagon bisa jēda...", he murmured in response.

Yes, just let me have this moment...

He kissed her then, soft and sweet. The most tender and gentle touch that felt like the ghost of a butterfly's wing. Fresh and dried blood was still caked across their lips, further binding them together as he continued feather-light brushes against her mouth, cradling her face with the utmost care.

It brought tears to her eyes before she let the quiet admission slip between their joined lips.

"Avy jorrāelan."

I love you.

Daemon nudged her nose with his own as he breathed in response, "Avy jorrāelan."

I love you.

She brushed her lips against his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, until finally, he began to move.

Their foreheads remained connected, his large hands controlling her hips as he tenderly thrust into her core. They inhaled each other's air, unhurried in their movements until the fire began to slowly build between them once more.

"Kostagon ao tepagon issa mēre tolī raqagon bisa issa jorrāelagon?"

Can you give me another like this my love?

She nodded, reaching her hand between them to draw circles across her clit.

"Sȳz hāedar", he hissed, his fingers now digging painfully into the fleshy juncture of her hips.

Good girl.

His head then dipped down before she felt his mouth latch onto her nipple, sucking and biting at the hardened nub.

Rhaenyra cried out, circles becoming bolts of lightening as he pistoned into her relentlessly, the obscene sounds of their joining filling the room.

She quivered as she came apart, Daemon following her over the edge with a shout of her name into her collarbone.

He collapsed back on the bed, pulling her with him so she lay across his chest, still tethered at the pelvis.

His heartbeat thrummed against her cheek, both panting with exertion.

"Well, you granted me a wish I shared with you the first time we coupled", she mumbled quietly, tracing shapes over his heart with her fingertips.

"Oh? And what wish was that little dragon?"

"To be wedded out of love rather than duty."

Daemon smiled serenely, holding her closer before a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

She enquired an eyebrow at his amusement.

"Just thankful that a stupid little girl chose to sneak into my chambers all those years ago."

"You're just as spoilt and selfish, getting exactly what you want, no matter the cost", Rhaenyra jibed with a nudge to his ribs.

He hummed in response, giving her behind a gentle swat that made her yelp in delight.

"Nykeā dīnilūks vēttan isse perzys se ānogar", his whispered lovingly into her hair.

A match made in fire and blood.

Chapter Text

Groans of frustration left Rhaenyra's mouth in a huff as she leaned her palms against the windowsill, shifting her weight between the balls of her feet.

"Why won't this bloody babe come out already?"

Rhaenyra's chambermaid Syril continued to replace her bedding with fresh linen behind her, fretting with the pillows so they were sufficiently fluffed.

Syril had become a close acquaintance of hers since her permanent move to Dragonstone Keep, having bared the brunt of the Princess's many gripes and complaints during her fourth pregnancy.

"Perhaps another walk Princess?", she suggested.

"I have walked the equivalent of Winterfell to Kings Landing and back. If I could only drag myself onto Syrax's saddle-"
 
"You already know that is out of the question", Syril reminded her, the maesters having just warned the Princess against the very idea in her current condition.
 
The sound of Daemon's footsteps entering their bedchambers caused Rhaenyra to turn, his beaming face greeting her in his riding leathers, skin flushed and silver hair windswept from flight.

Smug bastard, she thought.

He went to kiss her scowling face on the cheek.

"My love, you're positively glowing."

" Oh shut up", she huffed as she shoved past him to sit on the freshly made bed.

Syril stifled a laugh behind a cough as she arranged the pillows behind the Princess.

"Still no movement then?", Daemon asked knowingly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed beside Rhaenyra. His tone was sympathetic but an amused smirk still graced the handsome features of his face.

"No, the bloody babe wishes to stay in longer", she grumbled, hand resting on her swollen belly out of habit.

He took no pleasure in his wife's discomfort, but her sporadic changes in mood during her pregnancy had kept the Prince on his toes.

At the beginning, Rhaenyra's hunger for him had nearly been insatiable, barely being able to leave their marital chambers without having had her at least four times before first meal. Then as her belly began to grow with his seed, she'd become more emotional, weeping at the sight of Daemon and her boys sparring in the courtyard. Or seething at him in anger for consuming more wine than usual at supper. Or glowing with happiness for days after a particularly joyous ride upon Syrax.

Through every high and low however, Daemon had fallen more in love with her than he ever thought was possible. She was radiant and scorching, like the sun in human form.

A flame in angel skin.

Being on the receiving end of her bite, her smile, her warmth, her fierceness, it just made him desire her all the more. Wanting to see her grow and birth even more of their children.

" Well what did the maesters say?", he asked whilst drawing circles into the palm of her hand that rested beside her.

"They suggested to keep consuming the dornish spices and continue my daily walks, like that isn't all I've been doing for the past week. But if I do not begin my labours soon, they'll poke and prod at me with tools and instruments that will be most uncomfortable."

He blanched at the very thought. "I will not allow them-"

"Hush Daemon, let's not worry about it until the moment is upon us. They said the babe may still come on it's own in the next few days", she sighed.

"I believe there was another suggestion your Grace...regarding your husband-", Syril began before the Princess shot her a warning look.

"Syril if you're quite finished in here, you may take your leave."

The maid bowed her head in submission, retreating quickly to avoid the expectant mother's wrath.

" Of course Princess, I'll see to the children."

Once they were left alone, Daemon pried with a raised brow.

"What did she mean Rhaenyra?"

"Nothing, she overstepped her place", she dismissed, smoothing the rich silk of her dress over her belly, avoiding his gaze.

"Little dragon, if there's something I can do-"

"There isn't."

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his questioning stare.

She sighed, unable to lie when the amethyst eyes that matched her own bored into her soul.

"The maesters mentioned that coupling has proven efficient for many in the encouragement of labour ", she relented.

Daemon swiftly stood from his position on the bed to begin untying his leathers in haste, shedding his outer layer in a rush before removing his shirt.

"What do you think you're doing?", she asked, bewildered at the display.

"Easing my wife's burden in whatever way I can", he explained as if it were glaringly obvious.

"Daemon, I am in no mood", she scoffed as his breeches were discarded to the floor.

"You just said how desperately you want this babe out."

He tilted her chin up to meet his eyes, smirk dripping with the gall of someone who wasn't standing stark naked, not that his pristinely sculpted body was anything to snivel at.

"It's been over two moons since I've had you properly wife. What better way to soothe your discomfort and bring our babe into the world?"

She tried to supress her frown but he didn't miss it, a look of concern now crossing his face.

"What is it Rhaenyra?"

She fiddled with the fabric of her gown as the words tumbled from her mouth with great reluctance.

"This is the fourth child I am to birth, my body has changed and stretched beyond comprehension-"

"And?", he asked, utterly perplexed.

Rhaenyra sighed, sliding down onto her back before throwing an arm over her eyes.

"Do not make me say it Uncle."

Silence followed before understanding dawned on him.

"This is why you have not allowed me to see you? To be inside you?"

Her lack of response was answer enough.

Daemon pulled her arm away, forcing her to meet his displeased stare.

"Rhaenyra, I have loved and adored you since your first breath. I've worshipped you in every shape and form you've come to possess. The beautiful girl. The beautiful woman. The beautiful mother of my child. If there's more of you to love and devote my being to, then so be it. You swell with my seed, plush, ripe and ready to burst. You carry life and still glow with fire. What kind of mad man would I be not to crave you still? If not more?"

She hid her face sheepishly as she curled onto her side with a wince, the babe's foot kicking at her lower ribs.

"Stupid little girl", he softly scolded.

Her eyes darkened then, and he noticed, sinking to his knees so that his face was an inch from her own.

"Will you not still desire me when I'm old and weathered? When the lines by my eyes grow deeper and more pronounced? When I can barely climb astride dragonback  while my youthful wife still can?", he murmured, caressing her cheek with the lightest touch.

"What do you mean when you're old?", she teased, face breaking into a small devious grin.

Daemon covered her mouth with his hand.

"I'll blame your insolent little tongue on the discomfort caused by the babe. However, do not continue to test my patient and sympathetic nature wife", he warned coyly.

She licked a stripe against his palm, though he did not retreat, only raising a brow.

"Are you quite finished?"

He felt her muffled reply, removing his hand.

"Hm?"

"I said, how do you intend to have me then?  My current state is a hindrance to our preferred dalliances."

"Are you comfortable as you are?"

She gave a cautious nod.

"Then I shall have you as you are", he declared before giving a quick peck to the tip of her nose.

Daemon stood, moving to walk around the bed but she brought her hand to his thigh, preventing his retreat.

"Wait, allow me to ready you husband", she grinned as he stood by her face.

Rhaenyra enclosed her hand around his half-hard cock, gripping him firmly before drawing her palm up and down his length.

He hummed in approval, head falling back so she could see his throat bob.

"Come closer, I wish to taste you", she coaxed with a whisper.

His answering groan sent a jolt of heat to her core as he shifted closer.

She teased him by glossing the tip over her closed mouth, pre-cum smearing across her lips before she feathered little kisses down his shaft. She licked her way back up before sucking him fully into her mouth.

Daemon hissed, hips jerking as she expertly swirled her tongue around him. With a hand gripping the side of his butt, she pulled him closer so that he slid further into her mouth and down her throat. He felt her saliva coat him before he extracted himself from her lips with a wet pop, her eyes ablaze with a fire that he'd come to know intimately.

"Nyke'll tatagon isse aōha relgos lo īlon ȳdra daor keligon", he drawled darkly.

I'll finish in your mouth if we don't stop.

Rhaenyra batted her eyes with feigned innocence. "Kivio? Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke jorrāelagon ziry..."

Promise? You know how much I love it...

She then sucked him back into her mouth, gently cupping his balls with her hand as he drew in a sharp breath.

"Rhaenyra..."

"Fuck my mouth Uncle please...your future queen commands it", she purred.

A strangled noise was ripped from his throat as he all too willingly followed her instruction, gently holding her head in place as he rutted in and out of her mouth. She kept her lips coiled firmly over him, moaning with approval as his hips began to stutter and the muscles of his torso tensed.

He came with a hoarse cry, and she ensured that not a drop of him was wasted, swallowing the salty liquid before letting him withdraw from her mouth completely. He panted, his hand languidly smoothing over her hair as he observed her in awe.

"Ao dōrī gūrogon naejot kostilus issa ābrazȳrys."

You never cease to amaze me wife.

Rhaenyra smiled, unashamedly basking in his praise before he finally crawled onto the bed to settle behind her.

She felt the warmth of Daemon's torso press against her back, his arm coming to cradle her bump from behind.

" Gevie ."

Beautiful.

She breathed a sigh of content as he gently kissed along her neck, nuzzling her jaw with his nose as he rubbed soothing circles across her belly.

He took his time loving her, his teeth nibbling at her ear which caused her to giggle. He murmured sweet praises, licking the shell of her ear before his hand began to wander.

His palm grazed her breasts before giving one a gentle squeeze through the silk of her dress, feeling their soft weight against his calloused skin.

Rhaenyra hissed at the touch.

Her milk hadn't come in yet, but her breasts were sore and sensitive all the same. They'd grown even bigger as a result of the babe, becoming quite a nuisance when it came to fitting into her robes and gowns.

"Tolī olvie issa jorrāelagon...", she mewled softly, bringing his hand lower towards her pelvis.

Too much my love...
 
"Shijetra issa byka zaldrīzes", Daemon whispered in earnest, tilting her head to kiss her apologetically.

Forgive me little dragon...
 
"Sagon rȳ gīda valzȳrys", she murmured against his lips as she brought his hand underneath her gown to her centre.

Be at ease husband.

He could feel her wetness through her small cloth before he dragged the garment down her legs. With the thin barrier removed, he let his fingers trail across her slit, rubbing small circles across the bundle of nerves.

Rhaenyra inhaled sharply, her hand reaching behind to pull his face into the crook of neck.

She felt him press a finger at her entrance before sliding the digit in all the way down to his knuckle. A low groan escaped her throat as she revelled in the feeling.

"Tolī olvie?", he enquired with concern.

Too much?

She shook her head. "Tolī kostilus..."

More please...

He leisurely pumped the singular digit before inserting a second. She whimpered with delight, encouraging his ministrations.

"Ivestragī issa havor bē ao ābrazȳrys", she felt him rumble against her neck, causing her to shiver.

Let me feast upon you wife.

Rhaenyra imagined him between her legs, face hidden below her swollen belly. She shrunk away from the thought, instead focusing on the pleasure he was already giving her with his hand.

"Tubī daor", she muttered, hoping he wouldn't press the matter.

Not today.
 
Daemon buried his face into her hair with a growl of desperation, as if holding back a tantrum.

"Nykeā gūrotrir nyke jāhor umbagon syt, yn nykeā qilōnarion ry keskydoso", she heard the Prince sulk.

A prize I shall wait for, but a torture all the same.

He removed his slick covered hand from her heat to suck the digits into his mouth, a satisfied noise rumbling from his throat at her heady flavour.

"Yn nyke jāhor sup hen se source isse due jēda dōna hāedar."

But I will sup from the source in due time sweet girl.

She was thankful that he couldn't see the roll of her eyes as she guided his hand back to her heat, pressing herself against his palm before he reinserted his fingers.

He built her up steadily, pumping and circling in the ways he knew she liked best until he felt her clench around his fingers with a soft whimper. The orgasm washed over her skin gradually, like sinking into a warm bath, limbs becoming liquefied as euphoria seeped into her bones.

He smattered kisses across her shoulder, allowing her to recover.

"Issa jorrāelagon, issa ānogar...", he cooed softly, admiration dripping from his voice.

My love, my blood...

The tension had melted from Rhaenyra's body, lethargy teasing the edges of her vision. She felt his renewed hardness at her lower back, yet he made no move to probe at her centre.

Daemon just continued to stroke her hair and back, lulling her into a further state of ease. Her mind wandered, basking in the moment but also reflecting on their life together, the life they shared and family they'd created.

Emotion welled within her chest before a quiet sob followed. He hushed her with kisses to her cheek and temple, tasting her tears against his lips. He'd become well acquainted with her ever changing moods, but still frowned with unease.

"What troubles you little dragon?"

She shook her head.

"Ignore me, for I am a mess of joy and gratitude."

"I couldn't ignore you if I tried Princess", he quipped silkily, attempting to coax laughter from her downturned lips.

She jutted an elbow behind her, catching the Prince in the ribs before she heard his amused grunt.

"I only grieve the time we could have been together, rather than apart. If you'd married me when I was of nine an d ten, how different our lives would have been."

He listened to her musings, unable to deny that his mind often wandered to the very same thoughts. How they could have been this happy with each other a long time ago.

"But then we wouldn't have our boys and our girls, who I couldn't imagine our lives without. And even though we longed for one another for so long, I could have never prepared myself to feel the happiness I do right now."

Rhaenyra sniffled, wiping the excess tears from her face.

"I've gotten all sentimental and weepy on you, I'm sorry", she said bashfully.

Daemon's tone of compassion didn't match his words as he pressed a kiss between her eyebrows.

"You should be, you're positively hideous when you cry."

She couldn't help but laugh, his forehead leaning against hers with a mirrored grin.

"Careful rogue Prince, rumours of you being cunt-struck may spread about the kingdom if you continue showering your wife with such praise."

"I will wear the title with honour your Grace."

He licked his lips before his expression grew sincere.

"I can't let myself imagine what could have been, only what is right in front of me. And in this moment, I have the woman I've loved for an eternity in my arms as my wife, swollen with my seed, as our children laugh and rejoice downstairs. What came before only led me here, and I can't regret that."

She nodded in agreement, a poorly suppressed yawn making her eyes water once again.

It was only then that Daemon realised that the sun had begun to set and the shadows within the room had become larger.

"Rest now wife, I'll wrangle the children for a late supper."

"I thought you were going to have me properly? ",  she pouted sleepily.

"Careful Princess, rumours of you being cock-struck will spread throughout the kingdom."

Rhaenyra gave him a gentle swat as he extracted himself from her.

"I will", Daemon reassured her with a quirked lip, "Once the children retire and you are well-rested and well-fed. Then I shall have you, properly and thoroughly. The babe will be birthed before the morrow's eve if I have anything to do with it."

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra sat upon the Iron Throne, the dark empty throne room aiding her in her brief moment of solitude. That day, the room had been filled to the brim as she was officially crowned the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

The final eve of her father's life had reconnected and brought the once feuding family together again, finally united as one. Their support in her ascension had made the transition from Princess to Queen that much more seamless, the threat of rebellion and treason firmly quashed and burnt to ash once and for all.

Rhaenyra spotted the tall silhouette that she'd become so familiar with enter the throne room, knowing all too well that he would come and find her after she'd left him alone in their bed.

Daemon came to stand at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at her on the throne.

"I awoke to find your place in our bed cold and empty wife."

"I couldn't sleep."

He gave a nod.

"Does something trouble you?"

She shook her head.

“I think my mind is just too overwhelmed to rest.”

He walked up the steps until he reached her, tilting her chin up with his thumb so that he could observe her closely. His loving but firm gaze could see right through her.

She sighed; he knew her too well.

“My father wasn’t perfect, but he was kind, loved and respected by most in the realm. His reign was largely prosperous, peaceful and unchallenged. A good and fair King. What if I can’t live up to it?”

“Doru-borto riñītsos", Daemon replied with a small smile.

Stupid little girl.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Mērī ao'd dare ȳdragon naejot aōha Dāria hae bona.”

Only you’d dare speak to your Queen like that.

“Konīr issa", he said with a wink.

There she is.

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes but felt the small grin forming on her face against her will.

“My brother was a fine King, but his reign wasn’t without its’ trials and tribulation, especially at the beginning. He was easily manipulated by the whims of others and ran from the slightest trace of conflict. It took him a long time to find his way, and it was because of his love for you in the end that had him stand up for what was right.”

“I guess I do have the advantage of your knowledge and expertise by my side", she quipped playfully.

“True, but you’re also wise, fiercely protective of your family and what is right, and not afraid to stand your ground against adversity. You’re kind but fair, compassionate but strong, and you do not allow your emotions to rule you...most of the time.”

“Using flattery to get in my good graces is beneath you uncle”, she teased, quite touched by his assessment of her.

“I’d prefer to be beneath you, my Queen”, he smirked, his gaze darkening with a look she’d come to know intimately.

“Oh?”, she said dumbly, Daemon still having the same effect on her as he did when she was of six and ten.

He hummed in response, coming to kneel between her thighs as he shuffled her closer to the edge of the throne.

“Long have I imagined fucking you on this throne your Grace...”, he murmured as he kissed his way up from her ankles to her thighs, lifting the hem of her nightgown as he did so until it was bunched up at her waist.

She looked nervously to the closed doors of the throne room.

“Daemon, my guard-”

“I sent them away, warning them against disturbing us less they wish to be relieved of their heads.”

She could have laughed at his foresight if his head wasn’t between her legs.

“Now let me show my devotion to the crown”, he husked before covering her clit with his mouth, sucking at the small bundle of nerves like his life depended on it.

Rhaenyra's breath caught in her throat, back nearly arching off the throne at his onslaught.

He slithered his tongue up her slit, tonguing at her warmth and wetness with a moan, as if she were his most decadent dessert.

He brought a hand down to his groin, palming his hardness through his trousers as he continued to lap and suck at her with vigor.

“Fuck, Daemon...”, she keened whilst sliding her hand into his hair, pushing him further against her core to grind herself against his face.

The sharp angle of his nose combined with the soft prodding of his tongue was making her see stars. He gave her all the control, nearly finishing in his trousers at the way she used him for her pleasure.

Her whimpers became breathy and high-pitched, signaling her release was near.

“That’s it. Make yourself come on my face sweet girl...”, Daemon all but moaned himself before sucking her into his mouth once more.

His words were her undoing, the stuttering of her hips turning wild as she cried out.

His approving moan sent vibrations across her clit, drawing out her orgasm whilst slurping up the slick that now coated the lower half of his face.

She sank back against the throne, completely spent and satisfied as her legs trembled with aftershocks.

He sat back on his knees, wiping what remained of her on his face with the back of his sleeve.

“The crown owes you a great debt husband”, Rhaenyra mumbled with a sleepy smile.

“And rewarded I shall be...”, he said before scooping her off the throne, turning them so that he now sat upon it with her facing him as she straddled his lap.

She wasted no time; thankful Daemon wore his sleep trousers rather than his laced-up breeches. She freed him from his clothed confines, his length painfully hard and weeping in her grip.

“My poor husband is in need of some relief it seems”, she said with a devilish smirk.

“Your poor husband needs to be buried to the hilt in your cunt, my Queen.”

“I should have your tongue for that”, she teased, nudging the reddened tip of his cock against her folds.

“You’ve already had it”, he said before brutally kissing her, tongue swiping at her own so that she was met with her own flavor, emphasizing his point.

Rhaenyra giggled against his mouth before impaling herself on his cock.

They both moaned in unison, the sweet ache of Daemon stretching her still just as exquisite even after birthing six children. She still hugged him tightly with her warmth, her slick encouraging the ease of his hips to snap against hers.

She too slid up and down his length, finding a rhythm that suited them both.

He latched onto the erect bud of her nipple that was pert beneath her thin nightgown, the suction of his mouth combined with the friction of the fabric causing a bolt of fire to surge towards her clit. She whimpered, head falling back as she rode him on the Iron Throne.

“Daemon...”, she groaned loudly.

“Konir sagon ziry, ivestragī pōntoma rȳbagon ao.  Ivestragī pōntoma gīmigon qilōni gets naejot mazverdagon se dāria māzigon va zȳhon orvorta...”, he murmured sweetly.

That's it, let them all hear you. Let them all know who gets to make the Queen come on his cock.

He felt her clench around him, her undoing imminent. He brought his thumb down to rub circles over her clit whilst clasping his other hand around her throat securely. The pressure wasn’t enough to cut off her breathing, but enough for her to know that he was there, her pulse thrumming against his palm.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, my love? For me to fuck you while your subject's watched? For them to see their beloved Queen a quivering mess as she rode her husband’s cock?”, he bit out between thrusts.

Rhaenyra's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she fell apart, shuddering with a whine as her orgasm tore through her body like dragonfire.

He then prooceeded to drive himself into her wildly, his release following soon after with a hoarse cry into her shoulder.

They both collapsed against the throne with heaving breaths, still tethered to one another mind, body and soul.

Her forehead rested against his as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Ñuha Dāria, ñuha zaldrītsos...”, he cooed softly.

My Queen, my little dragon...

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips to his third eye.

"Nyke daor gaomagon bisa mijegon ao,”, Rhaenyra whispered earnestly.

I cannot do this without you.

“Kessa kostā, yn kesā dōrī emagon naejot”, Daemon replied, voice thick with emotion.

Yes you can, but you will never have to.

Fin.