Fire and Blood: The Dragon Princess

by Nychtas

Summary:

Blessed by the Fourteen Flames and protected by the Goddess Syrax, Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Dragon Princess, will face her enemies head-on and burn the snakes that crawl at her feet.

And alongside her beloved uncle, Daemon Targaryen, the Warrior Prince, they will write a new story that will be marked and told to future generations of the House of Dragon.

Rhaenyra and Daemon will live a ravishing, fiery, and eternal romance while taking revenge on those who dared to try to bring them down in the past.

Notes:

Hello, story originally published in Portuguese on the Brazilian Wattpad.

Chapter 1: Act I.

♛

Act I.

''Some say that we Targaryens are closer to the Gods than to men, so does that make us almost divine creatures and give us the opportunity to crush our enemies like insignificant insects without any consequences? Are our sins more easily forgiven compared to the sins that sheep commit?

Fire and blood are the words of my house.''

♛

 

Chapter 2: Prologue.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

The dialogues in italics are in High Valyrian... well, let's pretend hahahahaha

♛

Prologue.

In the tender 12 days of her name, she swore that one day she would take revenge on everyone, including King Viserys I Targaryen.

97 A.D.

The crackling of the flames filled the heavy air of the ancient Valyrian pantheon, and the heat barely enveloped the fourteen figures distributed around the sacred altar where the bonfire was burning. The flames danced, creating almost entirely human shapes and patterns.

''The last of our children weeps without tears for his human mother.'' Wailed a female figure. She was tall, with translucent white skin, piercing purple eyes, and long silver hair. Horns like those of a dragon grew majestically on her forehead. She looked away from her brothers, who had the same appearance as her, and faced the leader. ''What are we going to do? We can't allow fate to end like this, for another universe to be condemned in this way.''

The heavy silence continued to reign among the gods, but a thoughtful female voice broke it:

''Vhagar is right, brothers.'' The Goddess Syrax drummed her fingers on the edge of the sacred altar thoughtfully. ''That stupid boy sacrificed our chosen one for nothing.'' She growled softly, her serious, furious eyes fixed on the flames.

The flames of the fire rose higher than the divine figures and told a story that left a bitter taste of defeat in the mouths of the Fourteen Gods.

They, the Gods, had failed.

The flames showed how Drogon, the last dragon of Westeros, mourned and wept without tears over the death of his human mother, Daenerys Targaryen. The majestic creature let out little grunts and nudged the woman gently with its huge snout. She was lying on the cold ground, with no pulse of life in her body and a dagger stuck in her chest.

Drogon nudged Daenerys again, cried with tearless grunts, and burned the cursed Iron Throne, turning it into a pile of molten iron. The son picked up his dead mother and flew away, disappearing over the horizon.

''To what extent can we intervene? We all know that our magic is very limited now, just as we don't have enough power to change fate beyond what we've already done, tried, and failed to do by choosing the Manipulable King.'' Caraxes asked thoughtfully. He ran his hand through the flames, causing the image of Drogon carrying Daenerys to disappear. ''Honestly, I'm open to hearing any suggestions, brothers.''

The Syrax Goddess flashed a predatory smile and approached Caraxes, her companion, touching his arm with her fingertips. He stared at her and raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

''I know exactly what we have to do, my beloved.'' She murmured, her voice sensual to him. Then Syrax became serious again and faced her other brothers. ''It is true that our magic is limited and there is little we can do now, but we are strong enough to go back in time and choose the right Targaryen so that the history we have just seen will never be repeated in another life, in another universe.''

For the first time in a long time, the God Balerion spoke up:

''What should we do, Syrax?'' His voice was low and authoritative. ''We don't have the option of failing again, or we're all doomed.''

All eyes were on the Goddess Syrax, but she didn't feel intimidated or afraid of the plan she had carefully devised.

''Did King Viserys I Targaryen, the Manipulable, interpret our warnings sent in his dreams as good omens in both universes in the same way.'' She commented with restrained fury and then ran her hand through the fire. The flames came to life once again, and new images appeared before the gods. ''Now, I myself will guide our true Targaryen, whom we should have chosen before, and change her fate as much as I can.''

The flames rose higher than before and showed the image of a young boy with platinum hair, bright purple eyes, and a small smile. He held a newborn baby, wrapped in a red and black cloak with gold-embroidered details, in his arms, a little shaky with joy.

''The Dragon Princess...'' The Goddess Syrax smiled fiercely. ''Rhaenyra Targaryen is our chosen one.''

♛

King's Landing, 109 A.D.

How far can a man's greed go? A king? Someone who claimed to be your father? The one who swore to love her mother?

These were the agonizing questions running through the 12-day-old girl's mind as the icy wind ruffled her loose silver strands and the tears ran silently down her face. She wanted to scream with fury, bitterness, and disgust at what the king, her father, had done and at what he had allowed a cursed Meister to do to her beloved mother.

Queen Aemma Arryn had been cut through the belly, like a slaughtered animal, just so that the king could finally have his cursed male heir.

Now, a small bundle lay next to the cold, lifeless body of the woman who had once been his beloved mother.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen could still clearly hear her mother's terrified screams, pleading with the king not to allow her to be cut down alive, echoing louder and louder through the corridors of the Red Keep. If she took a deep breath, she could smell the strong ferrous odor of the blood that had spread in monstrous quantities over her mother, the bed, the floor, and the clothes of most of those present.

Queen Aemma was held down by four monsters as her belly was ripped open.

That afternoon, the day her mother would try to give birth to another child, the girl heard a voice whispering in her ear, telling her to leave the two ladies-in-waiting in the gardens and go find her mother. Rhaenyra obeyed. She escaped from her sworn guard, forced her short legs to run as fast as they could through the castle's almost endless corridors, and burst through the doors of the birthing chamber just as her mother was being opened on her father's orders.

At first, no one noticed the shocked, terrified, and crying figure of Rhaenyra, standing in a dark and isolated corner.

The King was more focused on holding his heir in his arms, the Maester on opening the Queen as if she were a pig, and the assistants were horrified by the grotesque scene. Aemma Arryn's cries of pain and pleas for her life paralyzed even the guards outside the room.

''Muña?'' Rhaenyra screamed, numb, when a thin, fragile cry sounded as soon as the queen stopped screaming and struggling on the bed. Aemma's eyes were wide open, frozen with dread, and completely lifeless. Her skin was white, her dress was torn at the sides, and the sheet under her body was soaked with her own blood. ''Muña!'' She screamed and ran towards her mother, tears streaming down her face.

Then the king and the others finally noticed the princess. Viserys froze and watched his daughter throw herself on his wife, the one he claimed to love, begging her to say something.

''Rhaenyra...'' He called her softly. The king was so shocked that he forgot that his male heir was in his arms. ''What...'' Viserys shut up as soon as the princess let out a moan of pain and hugged her mother, caring little for the exorbitant amount of blood.

''Mama, please!'' Rhaenyra cried out in anguish and deep sadness. She hugged her mother tighter and cried, for she knew that Aemma had been murdered. ''Munã, I love you.'' She whispered and, holding the older woman's face with her bloodied hands, kissed her still warm cheeks. ''I'll avenge you one day, I swear, Aemma Arryn.'' Her whisper was not heard by anyone else.

There was no longer any sign of tears in her purple eyes, just a redness and a restrained glow of fury. Although Rhaenyra's heart still bled constantly, and she regretted the cold and cruel murder of her mother ordered by her father, what remained of the young woman's goodness was disappearing and giving way to coldness, a lack of love, or any other good feeling towards the King.

As Princess Rhaenyra promised on her mother's deathbed, one day she would take revenge on everyone, including King Viserys I Targaryen.

''Little dragon?'' Daemon Targaryen, her beloved kepus, called out to her as he placed a large hand on her narrow shoulder. His voice was low and melancholy as he communicated in high Valyrian: ''The time has come.''

Daemon didn't need to say another word, and Rhaenyra nodded. Her eyes remained fixed on the pyre, the place where the bodies of her mother and brother lay next to each other. A knot formed in her throat at the sight of the small body, and she wanted to scream in the King's face if it was worth it to order them to open the Queen to an heir who had only lived for a few hours.

However, Rhaenyra refused to look at or speak to the bastard she had previously called father.

King Viserys didn't even have a dragon to order him to burn the pyre containing the body of his wife and heir.

Rhaenyra approached the pyre and looked at her golden lady. Since they had reached the top of the mountain, Syrax had moved away a little and was waiting for orders from his rider. The princess looked at her and nodded, causing the beautiful golden dragon with clear green eyes to approach the pyre.

Syrax let out a low grunt at the pain and fury his rider was feeling.

''Dracarys!''

It was in 109, after the Conquest, that Syrax's flames set fire to the pyre containing the bodies of Queen Aemma Arryn and her heir, Prince Baelon I Targaryen.

A week later, Princess Rhaenyra was called by her father to learn that she would be named Heir to the Iron Throne, becoming the Princess of Dragonstone.

Two moons later, everyone kneeled at her feet and swore allegiance to her, including her beloved kepus.

Three moons after asking Syrax to burn her mother's body, Rhaenyra again heard the same voice whispering for her to get out of bed at night and go to the King's chambers at that very moment.

A moon had passed since she caught her father in bed with Diana Higtower, the eldest daughter of the Hand of the King, Otto Higtower, and the scandal that a young maiden was warming the bed of a still grieving widower swept the Seven Kingdoms. It was around the same time that the king announced he was getting married for the second time.

Five moons after the death of Queen Aemma Arryn, King Viserys I Targaryen married for the second time and shortly afterward had a robust baby boy, Prince Baelon II Targaryen.

♛

 

Notes:

So that's it. We had the death of Queen Aemma at Viserys' request, but I decided that Alicent would not be the Green Queen, but Otto's fictional eldest daughter. Why did that happen? Well, I think the two actresses who play Alicent are very likeable and charismatic, so I decided to give her a different fate in the fanfic.

The age difference between Nyra and Dae will be 12 years and there's a reason for that, which will be explained soon.

See you soon!

Chapter 3: Chapter 1.

Notes:

Hello!

♛

Chapter 1.

"I knew who my uncle really was.’’

King's Landing, 113 AD.

Flying on the back of my golden lady, Syrax, was always like the first time I had taken to the skies - a unique and indescribable sensation. So many meters up, far from the ground and the snakes that roamed freely around Red Keep, it was just the two of us. The knight and the dragon. There was no one judging me with a falsely sweet and gentle gaze, whispering behind my back when I turned around, or spreading poisonous and lying whispers about me in court.

In the blue sky, almost reaching the white cotton clouds, and under the warm sun, there was only the freedom that allowed me to be who I really was, while no royal title weighed on my shoulders for some time.

"We're almost there, my golden lady!" I shouted to my beautiful Syrax. "I promise to give you a nice fat cow as compensation for our long journey!’’ I laughed and pulled the chain harder, encouraging it to fly faster.

Syrax let out a loud, happy roar like thunder, which made me laugh at her even more. The wind roared in my ears and blew back a few loose strands of my braid, at the same time as my lady's huge golden wings beat the air with a powerful noise. The further we both went into the sky, King's Landing appeared more clearly on the horizon. Although I was heading towards the place that should be my home, my real desire was to go to Driftmark or Dragonstone.

Even being in the bloody War at Stepstones was more appealing and healthier than returning to the king's court.

It didn't take long, and soon we were flying over the city. People in the streets looked up and waved happily or let out a few shouts. As I couldn't hear them, I just waved my hand in greeting and we headed towards the Dragons' Pit.

As Syrax approached the ground, the steady, strong beating of her wings kicked up a lot of dust everywhere. The dragon guardians covered their eyes and mouths to try to protect themselves. There was a discreet laugh at the men's desperation and, finally, my golden lady landed with a great thud, making the earth shake a little under her weight.

I released the chains that held me to the saddle and climbed down Syrax's right wing, using her horns for support. She let out a kind of purr as if she were a huge kitten as soon as I took off my leather gloves and began to run my hands over her hard, rough and very warm scales. My girl arched her neck and her snout bumped lightly into my chest, eliciting a satisfied giggle. I looked into her intelligent green eyes and shook my head slightly, because I knew exactly what she wanted.

"Right, right, ma'am, I'll have a nice fat cow brought up for you." I kissed her snout and I could almost swear she smiled with satisfaction at my words.

I rolled my eyes at how spoiled she was, although it was partly my fault and partly kepus Daemon's for spoiling her so much.

"Please, can you provide a nice fat cow for Syrax?'' I asked one of the guardians with a small smile.

A boy, who didn't look much older than me, was wide-eyed and took a quick glance between me and Syrax. I raised an eyebrow, but felt like laughing at his startled expression and flushed cheeks.

"Of course... princess.'' He stammered and bowed before running off.

I suppressed the urge to laugh, waved to my Syrax and whispered to the other two guardians who remained:

"Please leave Syrax free as always.''

They nodded and the eldest replied:

"Yes, princess.''

I smiled in response and started walking towards the exit of the Dragons' Pit to find a carriage or a horse that would take me to the Red Keep.

Two years ago, I managed to convince my father, King Viserys I Targaryen, that Syrax should always remain free and that she should never be chained in the Pit again. It was exhausting, and I had to fight with Otto Hightwoer, because the worm insisted that a dragon loose could be very dangerous for everyone and, as a consequence, would end up frightening the Lords and Ladies who were in the Capital. However, after showing Viserys some old Valyrian books that said a dragon free of chains was much bigger, he gave me permission to release my golden lady.

Fortunately, Syrax never caused any destruction or damage.

And, unfortunately, she never ate or set fire to Otto and Diana Hightower by "accident" either.

I couldn't always match my hunger with my desire to eat..

"Welcome back, princess! Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Royal Guard, greeted me with a small, discreet smile through his thick beard. "I hope you had a good journey." He continued and cast a brief glance at Syrax before turning to me, "I imagine your golden lady has protected you very well and I hope your stay in the Vale has been a good one."

I gave him a restrained but very happy smile and hurried my steps towards the man who, apart from having been my sworn guard for most of my life, was a father figure to me. Ser Harrold was wearing his well-polished armor, with his white cloak slung over his back and mounted on his white horse.

"Hello, Ser Harrold! I greeted him cheerfully as I stopped in front of him and stroked his horse. As we were alone, I put aside royal etiquette and acted more naturally around him. "Thanks to the Valyrian gods, the journey was uneventful, and my lady was great company, as always." I cracked a huge smile and got on my black horse. "And yes, my stay at my cousin's house was wonderful." I said as we started to ride towards Red Keep.

Four years ago, after the murder of my mother and the death of my newborn brother a few hours later, Viserys made me his heir, the future and first Queen Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. The King only did this to remove my uncle Daemon from the line of succession, in which he remained for some years, and also to keep him well away from the Iron Throne through his own idiocy and the poisonous whispers of the worm he calls the Loyal Hand.

At first, Viserys' idiotic decision and Otto Hightwoer's nefarious plans may have worked for four long years.

On the other hand, both didn't count on me and my choice of King Consort, since Viserys gave me the "freedom" to choose who would be my future husband. And who could be better than Daemon Targareyn to take on that role in my life? As well as being a prince by blood, my uncle was a dragon rider, a spectacular warrior and loved our Valyrian roots as much as I did.

Unlike King Viserys, I knew who my uncle really was and, in a way, his bad reputation only made him more attractive and incredible in my eyes as my future husband. I was never an idiot or pretended not to see Daemon's terrible lack of quality in some respects. It was true that he had slept with more prostitutes than he could count; he was also chaotic, somewhat impulsive in his actions, explosive and loved to spill the blood of his enemies.

But how could I criticize him when part of me was exactly like him? Chaotic, impulsive, a little explosive and would spill the blood of my enemies without hesitation if necessary?

Daemon Targaryen was much more than that worm in the Hand of the King liked to show at every opportunity, and my father agreed without hesitation. And yes, I was also fully aware that he was very far from being Prince Charming, riding in on his white horse in shining armor to save the princess from danger.

In fact, I wasn't even a princess in danger.

My uncle was someone I would trust with my life with my eyes closed. I knew he was an ambitious man, like all the others who lived in the Westeros and beyond the Narrow Sea, but he would never try to control me or reduce me to a mere breeding mare. Daemon could have so many faults, but he would never be someone who would betray our family and turn his back on me. Or be like my father, who ordered my mother to be cut up like a sow during his almost endless saga in search of his male heir.

No, Daemon would never do that to me.

So I was aware that if I lay down in a dragon's bed, I could be burned or devoured.

And who said I didn't want to be burned and devoured by Daemon Targaryen?

"I imagine Lady Royce was very pleased with the annulment of her unconsummated marriage to Prince Daemon." Ser Harrold commented with a slightly relaxed tone and gave me a sidelong glance. "When do you intend to tell your uncle that you managed to convince the king of the annulment, princess?''

I opened my mouth to reply, but as we were already leaving Rhaenys Hill and entering the busy streets of King's Landing, I just nodded to Ser Harrold, signaling that I would talk to him later. We passed through the streets and several people stopped to see me, shake my hand and say hello. I tried to keep a kind expression and not frown when the horrible stench of pigsties, stables, brothels and open sewage reached me.

I felt like going back to the Dragons' Pit and taking Syrax to the skies one more time to escape the stench that seemed to have entered my nose.

One thing I had been insisting on with my father, and for which Otto Hightower had criticized me at every meeting of the Small Council, was improving the city streets. All the corners were very dirty, and people were forced to live their daily lives in this chaos, which led to even more disease and a poor quality of life for everyone.

When I visited Driftmark a few weeks ago, I had built an initial and well-consolidated project with Aunt Rhaenys, and I took it to be presented at the meeting with the royal advisors, but Otto simply dismissed the whole thing, and the idiot king didn't even give me a chance to explain anything.

"Everyone here knows how deplorable and disgusting the life of the people in the city is, so with the help of Princess Rhaenys, I've drawn up a project that could improve the quality of life of our people and clean up the streets, Your Grace." I mumbled, trying to contain my excitement, and pushed the parchments with my detailed idea and the amount it would cost the Crown to Viserys. "I believe that many of our people's illnesses will be prevented if we pay more attention to eliminating dirt."

The king took the parchments and began to read what I had initially written, which gave me more hope that this time I would be heard. Earlier, Otto had pointed out that my project had some flaws, and Viserys agreed without actually reading anything. Perhaps now, since Aunt Rhaenys had helped me, he would take me more seriously and allow me to contribute to improving people's lives a little.

The projects that my great-grandmother, Queen Alysanne, had started were forgotten when my father sat on the Iron Throne, and the poor and vulnerable people of King's Landing were left to fend for themselves. Two years after I was appointed Heiress, I started trying to help them and to revive some of the projects the Good Queen had started and to continue those that my mother had managed to maintain while she was alive.

"Princess Rhaenyra, it's great to see that you care about the plight of the little people, but the Crown isn't overflowing with gold at the moment and we have more pressing matters to attend to first," muttered Otto Hightower in a hateful and falsely understandable voice. "Correct, my king?'' The worm turned to the puppet with a restrained smile.

Viserys hadn't finished reading even half of the first scroll and put it aside. Angrily, I clenched my hands into fists under the table and kept an unreadable expression on my face. My fingers wanted to grab the dagger stuck in my right thigh under my dress to show Otto how sharp the blade was. The worm could irritate me too much, but he could never break my control in front of anyone.

"Correct, Otto.'' Viserys turned to me and gave a small, humorless smile. "My dear, it's good to see that you care so much about the little people, but we don't have the funds for this King's Landing street project and the installation of some community toilets at the moment. Perhaps, at a more suitable time, we can talk about this again."

I wanted to scream in the king's face that spending rivers and rivers from the royal coffers on tournaments, banquets, parties, hunts and extravagant clothes for the royal family didn't help the less fortunate at all. However, I just shook my head and gave a smile without showing my teeth.

"Of course, Dad."

It took a while for me to exchange a few words with the little people and promise to visit them in a few days. Soon we were climbing Aegon's High Hill, and the Red Keep entered my field of vision. I took a deep breath to contain my disgust, approached Ser Harrold and muttered the answer to his previous question:

"I have my own means of speaking to my uncle other than through the royal ravens, so I'm thinking of sending a letter through one of our contacts."

When Daemon and the Velaryons were out of town, I could almost count on my fingers the people I trusted and who I knew wouldn't stab me in the back.

"Right, princess.'' He nodded and gave me another discreet smile. "I hope these days off in the Valley have left you well rested, because we're going to train early tomorrow morning."

I laughed and agreed.

"As you say, Ser Westerling."

All my recent good humor, due to the long journey with my lady and the meeting with my old sworn shield, disappeared as soon as we reached the main courtyard of the castle, and I was greeted by the sight of the King with his new family. I had to hold back the urge to roll my eyes at the sight of Visery's huge smile and my stepmother Diana Hightower's forcedly cheerful expression. Behind the pregnant queen, there were two nannies with my two younger half-brothers, Baelon III Targaryen and Aegon II Targaryen, and some royal guards.

And, to make my already bitter mood worse, my current and chosen sworn shield, Crispin Colen, was at the queen's side.

"Welcome back, my child!'' The king exclaimed happily when I got off my horse and opened my arms to him. I nodded slightly to the guard who picked up my horse to take it back to the royal stables. "I'm very happy to see you well, dear." His smile was huge under his moustache.

I'll never forgive the King for allowing his new son with his second wife to be named after my late brother, the same baby my mother had her belly cut open so he could be born and who lived only a few hours.

"It's good to be back home, Dad". I lied shamelessly and hugged him begrudgingly. My gaze turned to the Queen and I gave her a brief, dismissive smile. Diana's frown of displeasure deepened. "I'm glad to see you too." My smile turned into something sweet as I turned to face him.

After four years, sweet and deceitful lies came out of my lips all too easily. All the love, respect and affection I felt for my father died together on the same day that he ordered the accursed Meister Mellos to cut open my mother. My heart was hardened by pain and throbbed for the day when I would take revenge on everyone, including the king.

Now, I was just using Visery's affection, his "love" for me, to take advantage of him, when the worm and the queen's cow couldn't manipulate him against me.

"I believe the princess is tired and would like a hot bath and a good meal." Queen Diana's soft, falsetto voice reached my ears. Ser Crispin's dark eyes remained fixed on me, so I had to hold back a grimace and swallow a few swear words. "Isn't that right, my dear stepdaughter?'' There was another forced smile on her face.

Diana Hightower's beauty was undeniable. She had long, wavy red hair, green-brown eyes and white skin. However, her dress, always in dark tones, with a high collar, long sleeves, a tight bun on top of her head and a necklace with a seven-pointed star, made her look more like a Septon than a Queen Consort.

The Queen was the reflected image of her devotion to the Faith of the Seven.

Well, that's what everyone thought...

"Not much, dear stepmother, but thank you for your concern." I smiled with thinly veiled disdain into Viserys' eyes and turned to my two younger half-brothers. Both boys gave huge smiles and left their nannies. "Where's my hug, little brothers?" I muttered in high Valyrian, just to annoy her even more.

Diana stood rigid as a statue, with her annoyed expression and angry eyes, while the two fair-haired, purple-eyed boys came towards me with huge smiles. The boys threw themselves into my arms and laughed out loud when I started kissing their fluffy, flushed cheeks.

"I miss you, sister." Baelon whispered in high Valyrian and put his short arms around my neck. Aegon climbed into my lap when I sat down on the floor. "More kisses, Nyra!'' He laughed out loud when I complied with his request.

It was a fact that I would never forgive my father for a few reasons, one of which was the fact that he had baptized his firstborn son with Diana Hightower of Baelon. On the other hand, as much as I tried to hate or at least reject the two little boys, they managed to find a breach in my wall of self-preservation and infiltrated my heart like two little plagues.

The two little boys, one aged three and the other almost two, were not to blame for anything.

I could never say the same about their parents.

♛

Notes:

Once a Crispin Cole, always a Crispin Cole!

Chapter 4: Chapter 2.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! Sorry for the delay, but my life has been a bit turbulent.

Now I'll be posting more quickly.

I had a little help from the copilot's website to write the fight scenes.

p.s. Se alguém aqui for BR, a história já está com mais capítulos no Wattpad e está em português.

♛

Chapter 2.

"I won't hesitate to bathe in the blood of these pigs if necessary.’’

King's Landing, 113 AD.

My breathing came out in loud, heavy gasps; sweat dripped non-stop down my face, causing some loose silver threads from my braid to stick to my skin and soaking my tunic stolen from Daemon. My muscles were burning and begging for a good rest, while parts of my body ached from the blows and falls I'd taken over the last few hours.

''Are you giving up, princess?'' asked my training partner, with a glint of amusement in his brown eyes.

The sun was already high in the completely blue sky, and the scorching morning heat had already made me rip off my training armor. It was just the two of us in the training yard, although I could feel the stares of our small audience in the shadows of the castle balconies.

''Not yet, Ser Harwin.'' I gave a mischievous smile and advanced towards the huge man.

Ser Harwin advanced with firm steps towards me, his sword launching precise and powerful arcs through the air. I gripped the hilt of my sword with both hands, and the blades clashed just above my head, causing a high-pitched sound. I grimaced, and the muscles in my arms protested against the immense effort I was making against my opponent's sword. Meanwhile, he kept smiling and exerted more force to defeat me.

Harwin Strong was known for his monstrous strength, and he didn't take anyone lightly in training.

Obviously, being small and female, my physical strength would never compare to his or that of almost any other man. On the other hand, my kepus and Ser Harrold taught me from an early age to use my short stature as a form of advantage in training and over the possible enemies I might face one day.

''Go on, princess!'' A female voice broke through our cloud of concentration with an excited shout. ''Make Ser Harwin eat dust, cousin!'' She clapped her hands.

He didn't take his eyes off mine, but gave a sideways smile and raised an eyebrow when he heard my cousin's request.

''Well, your bride is on my side, my dear friend.'' I scoffed.

I took a step back and swung my sword to attack him from the left side. He intercepted my blow and counterattacked, charging towards me like an enraged bull. I knew Harwin wouldn't hurt me, but I wasn't willing to let him win again either. Victory in the final round was mine. With that thought in mind, I deftly dodged the Harrenhal heir's furious attacks.

My blade sliced through the air, creating a metallic hiss.

I spun my sword in quick movements and attacked him head-on, delivering the strongest blows I could. My breathing became shallower, and a few strands of hair stuck to my sweat-soaked neck. Harwin blocked me from the front, stepping back a little, his gaze fixed on me and my frantic movements. He stepped to the side and brandished his sword, but I dodged with slightly staggering steps, almost falling flat on my butt.

Harwin smiled broadly when I raised an eyebrow.

He launched himself at me with a completely unexpected vertical blow, but I dodged just in time to escape and rolled to his right side, standing up in an abrupt leap. Harwin shuddered for a brief second, and that was all I needed. While he was still recovering from the blow, I planted my left foot firmly on the ground, raised my right leg, and kicked him in the ribs with all the force a woman my size could muster. Although he was wearing the breastplate of his armor, my attack managed to leave him breathless and off balance.

Laena's screams became louder and more euphoric.

I didn't give Harwin time to recover completely, as he could no longer cope with his physical strength because he was so exhausted. To tire him out a bit more, I attacked him with my sword, and he dodged with a gasp. He was still out of breath from my kick, and a small part of me felt guilty. The heir of Harrenhal swung his sword to strike another blow, which cut through the air just as I parried it once again.

A brief smile appeared on my face.

Holding the hilt of the sword in one hand in case I had to strike back, I supported half my weight with the other hand and my left leg on the ground, then rotated my hip and struck him from behind with my right leg. Harwin let out an unexpected scream and fell to the ground. I got up at the same moment, without waiting for him to recover, and drove the point of my sword into his armor-covered chest.

I gasped heavily in an effort to catch my breath.

''I think I've won our last round of training, my good friend.'' I muttered, with a sideways smile. ''You look like you've been run over by a dragon, Ser Harwin.'' I mocked him jokingly and pointed to his disheveled state.

Harwin's dark hair was drenched in sweat, as was his dirt-stained face and a cut on his left cheek that I had made with the tip of my sword earlier. His clothes were in no better condition after a few hours of training.

With good humor, he rolled his eyes and retorted:

''You're not in much better condition, princess. Besides, my bride loves to see me in this state.'' He puffed out his chest proudly as he commented in a whisper. I grimaced. ''Prince Daemon will be very pleased when he hears that your training has progressed a lot in the last two years.'' He gave a sincere smile.

Ah, Prince Daemon...

The longing for my beloved kepus exploded in me when I heard his name, and I had to take a deep breath to contain the emotion.

It had been two years since he left for the War of the Stepstones and this was the last time we had seen each other in person. We exchanged a few sporadic letters during that time, but it wasn't the same as looking into his eyes, seeing his arrogant smile, or having a conversation in the language of our ancestors. Even when my father exiled Daemon for some reason in his own head or whispered by Otto's worm, he was never many moons away from King's Landing.

Every day, the longing and worry about him only grew.

''I hope so.'' I forced a smile.

Laena let out another scream and ran down the stairs towards us. Fortunately, there were only the three of us left in the training yard, so her natural reaction wouldn't have been considered inappropriate by some Red Fortress rats. I looked at my cousin and the lady-in-waiting with a gentle smile. Harwin stood next to me and caught her in his arms as soon as she threw herself at him. I laughed softly at the grimace and murmur of pain he let out.

''Sorry, love.'' She asked and pulled away, her cheeks flushed. Laena's purple eyes shone brighter when her groom gave her a warm smile. To pick on them both, I forced out a loud cough. ''Well, our princess won today's final round.'' She commented a little shyly, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Then Laena cracked a smile that looked like it would split her face in two and threw herself at me. I grunted softly in pain and hugged her.

''Congratulations, cousin!'' She laughed, held me by the shoulders, and looked at me with slightly wide eyes. ''I loved the beating you gave my groom.''

''It's always a pleasure to knock your groom to the ground, my lady.'' I made an exaggerated flourish.

Harwin snorted loudly, feigning irritation, while Laena and I laughed at him.

''Now, my princess, we must be off, for I asked Annora for a hot bath, and you stink like those dirty drunks from Flea Bottom.'' Laena hummed and turned to her groom. ''See you later.''

Harwin took her hand and left a kiss on her delicate fingers. She laughed softly, and the blush on her cheeks became more evident.

''You're both disgusting.'' I made a sign as if I were going to vomit. ''Oh, woman, don't be violent!'' I laughed when Laena slapped my arm lightly.

She rolled her eyes and pointed a finger at me.

''When you're together with your prince, I'll make fun of you too, my princess.'' She promised in high Valyrian. ''Now, let's go, because we still have a lot to do today.'' Laena commented in common and gave me a penetrating look.

I took a deep breath because I knew that very bad news would accompany her sudden appearance in the training yard. We said goodbye to the heir of Harrenhal and linked arms, walking towards my chambers in silence for the first few seconds.

''What have you discovered?'' I asked in high Valyrian as we turned a corner and entered a corridor empty of servants and guards.

''The Small Council will meet in an hour, Princess.'' Laena whispered.

I frowned slightly at the information. Viserys hadn't ordered any servants or guards to inform me of a last-minute meeting, which was strange and unexpected. I had always attended all of them, before as a cup bearer and, two years ago, as a member, after I demanded that I stop serving wine to those old men and took my place as Heiress of the Realm. Was this an emergency meeting? I glanced at my cousin, and she remained with a soft expression and a sweet smile on her lips.

Laena was amazing at court games.

''Emergency meeting, cousin?'' I asked and smiled at some employees who were passing by. ''We had a meeting yesterday, and there was nothing pending for today.''

I got back from the Eagle's Nest two days ago, and we had a meeting the next day. I didn't even have time to return to the city during the day or evening on the same day of my arrival, as I had planned, because Viserys insisted that we have a family dinner, and I was too mentally exhausted after having put up with the queen and her worm of a father for a period of time. But then, did this have to do with Daemon and the situation on the Stepstones? Snapping me out of my internal questioning, Laena put her hand on my arm and whispered:

''No.'' She seemed to tense up, although she was still smiling sweetly.

''One of our little birds informed me that the Hand and the Queen were discussing how they could get the King to marry you off as soon as possible, so I imagine that's what this meeting is about, cousin.''

Inside, I was boiling with hatred, as I wanted to cut off some heads and let Syrax burn some vermin in the Old City. I knew that my father's promise that I could choose my own husband and consort was like a huge weight hanging from a rotten rope, fragile and weak. There would be a moment when it would break, and it would hardly be in my favor.

King Viserys was so manipulable.

At the same time, I wore my usual mask of friendliness and smiled at everyone, even the walls if necessary, to try to prevent any more rumors about me from spreading, which, in the end, was always useless. Almost everyone commented behind my back how absurd it was that I, a princess by blood and future queen of the Seven Kingdoms, wore pants like a man, wielded a sword, and trained with the royal guards, or my kepus.

The queen's whore and her worm of a father even tried to get Viserys to forbid me from practicing such acts, as they both claimed it was a lack of decorum and elegance. I saw that he was going to agree with them, but I reminded him of how my own mother supported me, always telling me that I should know how to defend myself and even giving me my first sword as a child.

''I'm sorry, cousin.'' Laena whispered as we entered the corridor that would take us to my chambers.

To be honest, I wasn't the least bit surprised. The annulment of Daemon's marriage to Lady Royce was already part of my plan to have him as my husband and future consort. The problem was that he was in a war that had already lasted two years, and there was no prospect of victory. And neither the Crown nor my father were willing to help him.

''Your uncle went without my permission to a war that had nothing to do with us or the Kingdom, so let him deal with the consequences of his own choices.'' Viserys muttered when I went to his chambers after the meeting of the Small Council and practically begged him to send ships with men, food, and provisions for the war. ''Now, let's not talk about your uncle's headache anymore, my dear. Tell me about those days with the Arryns."

I shook my head at the bitter memory and forced a smile to try to reassure her.

''I'll cut off everyone's head and rain down fire if they dare try to force me to marry anyone other than Daemon, my cousin.'' I promised, my voice harsh and full of sincerity. I felt Laena tense beside me again. ''I couldn't manipulate my father into annulling my uncle's sham marriage for nothing. Now, I don't have to get rid of Lady Royce in my own way, but I wouldn't hesitate to bathe in the blood of these pigs if necessary.''

She stared at me with wide eyes and whispered in a slightly disturbed way:

''Sometimes you seem like the female version of Cousin Daemon, Nyra.''

I cracked a predatory smile.

''That sounds like a compliment to my ears, my fair lady.''

She laughed and nodded.

''I imagined it would.''

It was a pleasant surprise when Daemon, before going to the War of the Stepstones, told me and showed me the functionality of the tunnels and secret passages built by Maegor during his reign. The Cruel King was a disgrace, but at the same time very cunning and ingenious in ordering the creation of escape routes and spies. I now found myself in one of the passages leading to the council chamber and looked through the peephole at the King, the Hand Worm, and other lords discussing the decision whether I should marry the Prince of Dorne.

As if I were going to marry Prince Qoren or any man other than Daemon Targaryen.

''I will use my victory in this war to annul my marriage to the Bronze Bitch.'' Daemon whispered, two years ago, when we were in the Dragon Pit, that he was about to go to war with Caraxes.

I cried in his arms, and he kept his lips glued to my hair. Finally, he pulled away, looked at me lovingly, and whispered:

"If when you grow up you still want to marry me, little dragon, we'll do it, but I need to be free of Rhea, and we know that Viserys will never grant me an annulment of his own free will.''

''A marriage between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Qoren would bring great advantages to the Crown, Your Grace, and my lords.'' The worm muttered in his hateful, neutral voice. He was sitting in his hand position and casting a calculated glance at the faces of each of the lords present. ''As well as bringing the Dornese closer to us and having an unbreakable bond with Dorne, the Crown's coffers will once again be filled with gold at a time when the Royal Treasury is running low.''

I pressed my lips together in a straight line and gripped the hilt of my dagger tighter to stop myself from cursing out loud.

As well as seeing me as a breeding mare for future princes and princesses, now I've become a bargaining chip?

Mom was absolutely right when she said that we women were mere instruments and wombs for almost all men, which is why she attached so much importance to my growing up as a “different” princess and learning to defend myself physically. She told me this when she was pregnant for the last time, and, at the time, I didn't understand her.

Until I held her dead in my arms, I was named heir to the Iron Throne and given a stepmother before the ashes of my mother and brother were six months old.

''Your Grace, Lord Hand, excuse my sincerity...'' Lord Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws, began in a cautious tone. ''But I thought the King had promised the Crown Princess that she could choose her own husband and future consort.''

Only Lord Lyman Beesburey agreed with the Master of Laws. Over the last few months, I managed to win the Lord of Coin's favor as he taught me during our hours of study. Meanwhile, the other lords and Grand Master Mellos thought like Otto. I didn't even have to look at my father to know that he was considering the worm's words.

''Lord Strong is right, gentlemen.'' The nice little gentleman turned to the king. ''My King, shouldn't the Crown Princess be at this meeting too? After all, we are discussing a possible marriage between her and Prince Qoren, although she is free to choose her future husband and consort.''

At first, my father muttered a few incomprehensible words in response to the two sensible gentlemen, but he didn't stay to follow the rest of the damn meeting. I had little time to prepare for the next steps and prevent the king from trapping me into a marriage with the Dornish prince.

I turned my back and started walking back to my chambers.

♛

 

Notes:

People, Viserys is such a useless father and such an idiot king.

In the next chapter, Nyra will go to Flea Bottom to find out more about the war before preparing to go after Daemon.

Kisses!

Chapter 5: Chapter 3.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

How are you? I hope you're all well!

Guys, this chapter will have deaths and attempted explicit sexual violence at the end.

p.s. se algum br estiver lendo isso, saiba que esse mesma história está postada no Wattpad, em português e com bem mais capítulos. Meu perfil lá é DeusaBastet e a história é '' Fogo e Sangue: A Princesa Dragão ''

♛

Chapter 3.

"Come on, princess, help her!’’

King's Landing, 113 AD.

The old clothes of a peasant boy and the shabby cloak hid my true identity, allowing me to walk around like any other child, without attracting unwanted attention to myself. At that time of night, the city streets were full of people in the streets, alleys, and lanes of the Bottom Flea. The neighborhood was one of the dirtiest, most dangerous, and smelliest. There were cheap brothels, low-class inns, breweries, stables, and a lot of garbage in the open.

There was a lot of work to be done, but the Crown and the King were more inclined to please the nobles with feasts, tournaments, banquets, ballets, and hunts than to look after the survival of their most rotten and needy people. Since Viserys married Diana Hightower four years ago, he has doubled the number of celebrations for no good reason, to the point of leaving the royal coffers dangerously low, from what I heard at the Small Council meeting.

And marrying the damned Dornish prince would solve almost all the financial problems caused by Viserys, the queen's cow, and the worm in the hand.

After returning to my chambers, I had to take a few deep breaths to calm down and not let my anger overshadow my rationality. As I knew Viserys, he shouldn't have made any final decisions at the damn meeting, but that didn't mean he would keep his word with me for long or that the worm and the green cow wouldn't whisper in his ear as soon as possible.

I needed to be smarter, stay calm, and find out how things were really going on the Stepstones. The Small Council knew that my kepus urgently needed more men, food, and provisions. Although they had two dragon knights and thousands of men under Lord Corlys' command, the damned pirates were managing to fight off my uncle and his army. The enemies were still taking refuge in the caves of a great mountain.

The dragon's fire had no effect on the mountain, and it would be suicide for anyone to enter an unknown labyrinth full of traps in search of the pirates and their leader, Craghas Drahar.

Fortunately, during the afternoon, Harwin brought Laena a message from our Black Canary. She asked to see me that very evening, as she had urgent matters to discuss with me that involved my kepus. My body froze, and tears of despair caught in my throat as I read the Canary's words before burning the paper. I had to take deep breaths not to let the dread overwhelm me, and my lady-in-waiting helped me calm down.

Now, Harwin and I were walking towards one of the brothels bought by Daemon to find the Black Canary. Meanwhile, Laena was in my quarters, just in case someone showed up unannounced. She claimed that I was suffering from female problems, and my private healer recommended that I get a good night's rest after drinking some sleeping tea.

Ever since my cousin's groom met me outside the Red Keep, we'd been walking in silence, but I could almost hear the gears in his head turning and frying at the thought.

''Speak up, Harwin.'' I muttered and dodged a few drunks on the street. We turned left, and it took a while before we finally reached my destination. ''What's got him so upset?'' I stared at him.

Like me, the heir of Harrenhal wore peasant clothes and hid his true identity. It was his night on patrol with the City Watch, but Laena asked him to accompany me. To accompany me, and he managed to swap shifts with Ser Luthor Largent.

''How?'' He widened his eyes a little. ''I don't know what you mean, Prin... Nyra.''

I raised an eyebrow in response, and my hand rested on the hilt of my sword as we passed a few more drunken men. They didn't even notice us.

''No problem.'' He sighed and continued in a slightly shy tone: ''Do you think my bride will really be happy in Harrenhal with me after we get married?''

I stopped walking abruptly and looked at him with both eyebrows raised. Harwin's question took me by surprise. He motioned for us to move to a less crowded corner, and I followed.

''What makes you think my cousin wouldn't be happy with you in Harrenhal?''

He gave a half-hearted smile and scratched the back of his head.

''Laena is just as happy at court, by your side, or in Derivamarca.'' He sighed.

I shook my head and gave him a small, reassuring smile.

''You don't have to worry about any of that. Laena is very happy to be your bride, and with the prospect of moving to Harrenhal after the wedding.'' I assured her sincerely.

Apart from the safe return home of her father and brother, my cousin was begging the Valyrian gods for the war to end soon so that she could marry her beloved. Secretly, Aunt Rhaenys and I almost ran away when Laena started talking about her marriage to Harwin.

''Besides, Laena has her old fire-breathing lady, so we'll always be able to see each other, or she can travel whenever she wants, my friend.'' I patted him on the shoulder and signaled to the street. ''Shall we? I don't want to take any longer than necessary.''

We walked down two more streets and through an alleyway to finally reach the brothel. Inside the establishment, there were lots of people everywhere I looked. Some were having sex oblivious to the spectators, drinking, smoking, or simply chatting. The first time I entered a brothel a year ago, I was horrified and wished the ground would open up to swallow me up with the shame I felt as soon as I saw a naked woman riding a man.

''I'm here to talk to the Black Canary.'' I muttered and put my hands on the wooden counter to show my Valyrian steel ring with the engraving of a three-headed dragon. ''Please?'' I tilted my head, and my face became more obvious to the man.

The tall, slightly balding man paled and nodded quickly in recognition. He approached a short woman, whispered in her ear, and pointed discreetly at me. She smiled slightly at me, and I nodded discreetly in greeting. She then walked up the stairs and disappeared from my sight. It wasn't long before she returned and came towards me with a cheerful expression.

''The Black Canary is waiting for you at the usual place, Lady Nyra.'' whispered Amelly.

I agreed and turned back to find Harwin standing at the bar, sipping beer, his eyes scanning each person present. Finally, he looked at me.

''I won't be long.'' I warned him.

He nodded and went back to examining his surroundings. Amelly smiled wider and took my hand, pulling me up the stairs. We went up two floors and entered a long corridor. As we passed, we could hear moans, male and female voices, and cries of pleasure. At the end of the corridor, we entered a bedroom dimly lit by the few candles available, passed through another door with two guards in front of it, and finally arrived at my destination for the night.

The Black Canary's office.

Behind the huge desk, with a pile of parchments, inkwells, and quills, stood a woman with long black hair, green eyes, and dark skin. She, Lisye Galekeep, was Boremund Baratheon's bastard daughter with a midwife. The woman must have been as old as Aunt Rhaenys and was only Amelly's mother.

The Black Canary smiled openly as soon as she saw me and stood up to greet me.

''Welcome, Princess!'' She greeted me and bowed slightly. ''I'm glad you're back.''

I gave Black Canary a quick hug and sat down when she pointed to the chair in front of her desk. She returned to her seat, while Amilly settled behind her mother and gave me a shy look with her big green eyes.

''Thank you, my beautiful lady.'' I smiled sincerely. Then I got serious and leaned my elbows on the arms of the chair, looking intensely at our lady of whispers. ''I believe you have urgent news for me, as you said in your note, Canary.''

Canary signaled her daughter to pour two glasses of wine and murmured:

''Although the news reaching the ears of the king and the advisors of the Stepstones is bad enough, that worm, Otto Hightower, has managed to stifle the true extent of the problems surrounding the war and Prince Daemon, my princess.'' Lisye sighed, and her forehead wrinkled with worry. ''There are strong rumors that the pirates and their leader, Craghas Drahar, are working with the Dornese to obtain scorpions to kill the dragons.''

Scorpions? The damned Dornese are offering scorpions to kill the dragons? The same weapon that killed Queen Rhaenys and her dragon Meraxes?

Fury and worry flooded me in equal measure. 

They wanted to and could take down and kill my kepus, Laenor and the dragons with ease.

The hatred I already felt for Otto and Viserys doubled at that moment, as tears of anguish and fear streamed down my face. I was paralyzed, with my lips pressed tightly together and my nails digging into the arms of my chair. My mind seemed to have gone into a kind of trance, and my vision was blurred by the low sobbing.

Daemon! No! My beloved prince! My beloved kepus!

I screamed internally.

''My dear?'' Lisye whispered and touched my hand with hers, making me relax my grip on the chair. I turned my head to look at her and cried softly. ''Come here, princess.''

I gladly went into her arms, and she hugged me tightly. I rested my forehead on her shoulder and began to cry softly, letting myself weaken for a moment. Lisye ran her hand over my tense back and whispered words of comfort. We stayed in the same position for a short time.

''Feeling better, princess?'' She held me by the shoulders and looked at me lovingly. I nodded positively. ''I know the news isn't the best, and I'm very worried about our Rebel Prince, but I know that Daemon won't be defeated so easily by these bastards.'' There was a strong confidence in her low voice. ''Besides, I believe you have plans up your sleeve and won't let this stubborn boy down.''

Daemon met Lisye when he was still a young knight and had just been forced to marry Rhea Royce. At the time, he had been badly wounded in an ambush, and Caraxes fled with him on his back but ended up in front of Lisye's hut in a forest at Storm's End. She took care of the young platinum-haired boy with her healer's wisdom and saved his life from death.

Years later, they became great friends.

My uncle took her to King's Landing, along with Amelly, when he bought some brothels and offered Lisye a position as a healer to look after the girls who worked for him. However, the moment Daemon executed Mysaria, his favorite ex-lover and former head of his spy network, because she was working for Otto and selling his secrets, Lisye took the traitor's place and became our Black Canary.

''I'm better, thank you.'' I whispered, giving a small smile. I wiped my cheeks and took a deep breath to regain my composure, since the moment of fragility was behind me. ''Is there anything else I need to know, Canary?''

Lisye's expression turned somber, and she leaned back in her chair. I settled down opposite her too.

''The Prince and the Sea Serpent are increasingly in need of men, food, and provisions. Many die during the battles, and others are leaving because they think the war will never end and that the Crown doesn't care about them, not even the King's brother. As the enemies seem to gain strength, the men are becoming more tired, hungry, unmotivated, and without hope of victory. And the royal worm makes it sound like the situation is nothing close to what I'm telling you, Princess.''

I gripped my wine glass tighter and took a deep breath. I had lost count of how many times I wanted to separate Otto's head from his body. Although fury and a thirst for revenge pulsed through my veins like the mesmerizing song of a siren, I couldn't let emotion overshadow my rationality.

''Anything else, my beautiful Canary?'' I drank some wine and put the glass on the table.

Lisye grimaced and snorted in disgust. Amelly, who had remained silent, giggled.

''The worm is exchanging crows with Prince Qoren to try to make a wedding ring between you and the Dornese, but I think you already know that from our little bird.'' She grumbled and tapped her fingers on the table thoughtfully. Slowly, a smile appeared on her lips. ''Our Rebel Prince won't be at all happy when he learns that the King is thinking of selling his bride-to-be to another man.''

I felt my face burn with embarrassment, and my eyes widened slightly.

''Lisye!'' I gasped, horrified.

The Black Canary threw her head back and laughed out loud.

''I'm only telling you the truth, my princess.'' She winked.

After leaving a bag with some gold dragons for the Canary for her excellent work, I met up with Harwin, and we set off again through the quieter, emptier streets of Flea Bottom. All the way, I could feel the heir of Harrenhal casting almost furtive, curious glances in my direction, although he didn't say or ask anything. He knew that I would tell him everything once we were in a safe place and out of reach of that worm's possible spies.

If there was one thing that Laena and Harwin were very similar at, it was their shared curiosity.

''It's all right, Prin... Nyra?'' Harwin didn't hold back and asked in a whisper almost as soft as the night breeze.

I opened my mouth to let out a mocking joke, and the words died in my throat as soon as a desperate scream cut through the silence of the night. The street, where we were closest to the Red Keep, was empty of residents, and there was no sign of any Golden Cloaks patrolling. A few seconds later, another chilling scream sounded, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end in response.

Harwin stared at me with wide eyes and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

''Princess?''

Come on, Princess, help her!

The voice, which had been with me since my mother's death, sounded in my ears like a soft night breeze.

''We need to help her, Harwin.'' I muttered hurriedly.

''It could be a trap, princess!''

He tried to grab my arm, but I dodged and pulled my sword out of its sheath. There were more screams and desperate pleas. It was a woman asking for help. Anger made me run faster through the dirty, dark alleys, although always with caution in case it was an ambush. My heart was galloping furiously, and there was a ringing in my ears. Harwin was right behind me.

It didn't take me long to find them.

In a cul-de-sac, there were five figures under the shadow of the roof of an abandoned house. Four men were standing with their pants down and touching their penises, while the fifth was standing over a girl on the filthy ground. She was crying, struggling, begging, and trying to fight off her tormentor.

The bastard was trying to hold her down with one hand and shove his disgusting penis between her legs with the other.

''Please don't do this!'' She begged between tears and broken sobs. ''Let me go, I beg you!'' She screamed. ''Help me!''

The man standing over her raised his free arm and slapped her across the face. She groaned in pain and was paralyzed. After that, everyone laughed.

''Good girl.'' He praised her and kissed her cheek.

Her new wave of loud, terrified screams snapped me out of my stupor of horror at such a monstrous, disgusting, and cruel scene. Hatred heated me up inside like Syrax fire and made me see red.

''I hope your bloody sword is sharp today, because we're going to behead some bastards, my good friend.'' I muttered coldly to Harwin as soon as I noticed his slightly panting presence beside me. ''Hey, bastard!'' I shouted.

It was instinctive, and the bastards turned their heads in our direction. The darkness didn't allow me to see any of their faces, and I didn't care either. Die! The first one took a few steps towards me and pulled out a knife, but I just raised the sword and moved the blade towards his hard penis, still hanging out of his pants, cutting it off with a single blow. He howled in pain, and his head fell to his feet with my second movement.

Fresh blood dripped from the tip of my sword.

The next unfortunate man let out a kind of roar, like an enraged animal, and set off towards me with unsteady steps. I gave him a mischievous smile and got out of his way as soon as he tried to stab me on the left side. When he turned to face me again, I simply moved my arm horizontally and cut his head in two.

Some of his blood splattered on my face and clothes.

''Fuck, that's disgusting.'' I grumbled, annoyed, and wiped my hand across my face to try to clean myself up a bit. I was a little out of breath from the recent run and the cut from two heads and a stick. ''Well done, Ser Harwin.'' I smiled wryly the moment I saw two more bodies on the ground. ''Now, where's our other little friend?''

The fifth man, the same one who was about to rape the girl, was now cowering and trembling in a corner. He looked more like a helpless little animal than the bloody, aggressive, and horny monster of moments before. I approached him, and my smile widened when I noticed that he was crying and his pants were wet with his own urine.

''Please... please...'' He begged softly and cringed even more.

Glancing over, I saw that Harwin had thrown his cloak over the crying girl and was hugging her tightly. I turned to the unfortunate man and ordered, in a low, icy whisper:

''Get up now!''

He shook his head desperately.

‘’No…’’

I sighed heavily and had to change my plans. He wouldn't get up, and I didn't have the time or patience to keep demanding.

''All right, then.'' I whispered, expressionless.

The bastard raised his head at me, and I gave him a mischievous smile, which was the last he would ever see in his miserable life. He seemed to recognize me because his eyes widened, and he opened his mouth with yellow, rotten teeth to say something, but I was more agile.

The bastard's head fell in a deafening thud at his feet.

''Are you all right?'' I walked towards Harwin, wiping the blade on my worn cloak, and put the sword away in the scabbard attached to my waist. ''Are you all right, dear?'' I gave the girl a small smile.

She looked younger than me and was very pretty. She has curly red hair, blue eyes, discreet freckles on her cheeks, and white skin. Furthermore, she sniffled softly and threw herself into my arms, taking me by surprise.

''Thank you…'' She cried. ''Thank you so much, my princess.''

I was a little shocked, but I relaxed and hugged her back.

''Thank you so much.'' I took her by the shoulders and stared into her red eyes. There was a big red, hand-shaped mark on her cheek, and her lower lip was bleeding. ''Just don't tell anyone you saw me here, okay?'' I asked with a smile. She shook her head frantically. ''Ser Harwin, can you take her to the Black Canary, please? I want her to be examined, take a bath, eat something, and rest well until tomorrow.''

He agreed and then asked:

''What about you, princess?''

I pulled up my hood to hide my platinum hair.

''We're very close to the fortress, so I'll be back safe and sound.''

In the end, Hawrin and the red-haired girl went back to Black Canary's brothel, and I headed through the streets towards the castle, leaving the five bodies in the same alley so that the Golden Robes could take care of them as soon as dawn broke.

♛

Notes:

If all of us women could do that to these bastards, the world would start to become a little safer for us.

In the next chapter, Nyra will stop off on her island and set off for the War, where she will meet Daemon again.

Chapter 6: Chapter 4.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons.

Are there many translation errors in the chapters? I'm Brazilian, so I write the chapters in Portuguese and then translate them, but I'm not at all fluent in English. I apologize for the mistakes and will correct them soon.

There's a bit of blood in today's chapter.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 4.

"My skin was being kissed by the flames of Balerion and melting in the process."

Dragonstone, 113 AD.

The first time I heard an unknown female voice whisper to me, I was only 12 days old and still just a princess, covered in a thin layer of protection and innocence from the real world that awaited me. The first invisible alert occurred on the same afternoon that I entered the birthing chambers and found my mother dead, her fresh, warm blood dripping from the bed directly onto the cold floor.

The second time I heard the same voice was three months after I had asked Syrax to burn the Queen and the One-Day Heir. I had already lain down to sleep, but a great restlessness wouldn't allow me to close my eyes and let sleep take me into a desirable unconsciousness until the next day, even though I was very physically tired from a day's training with my kepus.

Get up now and go to the king's chambers, princess!

Startled and a little afraid of hearing it again, I left my own chamber, with Ser Harrold following me in silence, and headed for the king's bedroom. Viserys' guards tried to prevent me from entering, however, I managed to bypass them and burst into the room, only to find my father sharing the bed intimately with a young maiden, Diana Hightower.

The voice also told me that when Viserys decided to marry his late first wife's former lady-in-waiting, Diana was pregnant, and the King would finally have his male heir.

''Are you sure about that, Nyra?'' Laena's tone was low and apprehensive. Her eyes widened slightly when I pulled the white silk robe over my naked body. ''Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?'' She insisted for the second time.

I once thought I was going mad because I heard a voice, even though everything she told me either really happened or was a warning. I even thought that a curse had fallen on me and that I was doomed to be locked up and isolated at the top of a tower so that people would be safe from me.

But I was never crazy, nor would I have been locked in a tower or had a curse on me.

‘’I am, cousin.’’ I gave her a small smile to try to reassure her. I took the chalice with Syrax's warm blood with the fingertips of my left hand and a lit candle from the candlestick with my right hand. ‘’There will probably be screams...’’ I grimaced as I remembered the pain Queen Visenya felt during the ritual, which she described in one of her diaries. ‘’But you can't interrupt me at any time, right?’’

She let out a resigned sigh, gave me a brief hug, and walked away with a still worried expression on her face.

''I hope everything goes well, Rhaenyra.''

I hope so too, Laena.

It was the answer that was on the tip of my tongue, but I mumbled it:

''Everything will be fine, Lae.'' I squeezed her shoulder affectionately and walked towards the secret passage to Queen Visenya's room. ''Cousin?'' I looked at her over my shoulder, and she tilted her head slightly to one side in a silent response. ‘’The next to perform this ritual will be you and the lady.’’ I gave her a playful smile and a wink.

Laena went a little pale.

''Okay.''

I gave Laena one last smile and entered the secret tunnel that would take me to an adjoining room that belonged to Queen Visenya. I felt anxious, apprehensive, excited, and very hopeful that everything in the ritual would go well and connect me even more with my golden lady.

''I know that Syrax is my soul mate.'' I whispered to myself, walking down the narrow, stuffy corridor, with cobwebs and lots of dust. One or two mice scurried past my bare feet. ''Is it silly to hope that Kepus is my twin flame?'' I sighed softly at the thought of him and said a quick prayer to the Valyrian Gods that they would continue to protect him.

The next morning, when I visited the Black Canary, I left for Dragonstone, while Laena went to Driftmark at my request. I had a plan in mind to get some men, provisions, and food in a short space of time to try to help Daemon in any way possible in the war. House Baratheon, in Storm's End, was my best option in a moment of urgency to get help from Stepstones.

However, there was a high probability that Lord Baratheon would not willingly help me, without expecting any future compensation from the Crown, and I didn't want to involve the King in the matter either. So it was to Aunt Rhaenys, the powerful man's niece, that I asked a great favor and guidance through a letter that Laena handed to her.

Fortunately, the eldest princess was always by my side and sent a raven to Lord Baratheon asking if he could provide us with some warriors.

The ships that would set sail from Dragonstone with food, barrels of water, and some wine to boost the men's morale were already ready, just waiting for my order to leave. However, on the same day that I set foot in the land of my ancestors, a voice whispered to me, and I didn't hesitate to listen.

Just as in the Red Fortress, there were secret passages, tunnels, rooms, doors, and corridors that almost no one knew about in the castle of Dragonstone.

It was behind one of the tapestries hanging from the ceiling of former queen Visenya's huge bedroom that I found a secret passage. After walking down the stuffy corridor, I found an old wooden door, slightly jammed from lack of use, and an adjoining room. I expected to find just an abandoned place in terrible condition, covered in dirt, infested with rats, and with large cobwebs.

It wasn't just an abandoned place, it was a shrine in honor of the Valyrian gods.

There was an altar in the center of the dark room, with no opening for air or light. On the altar, the image of the Fourteen Flames is carved into small statues with a base for lighting a candle in front of each one, a dagger with a Valyrian steel blade with a handle made of dragon bone, and a simple chalice made of dragon glass. Although everything was very mystical and unexpected, it was the ten old diaries, with their well-worn pages, that caught my attention the most.

There were rumors in our family that Queen Visenya was some kind of witch, or at least performed blood rituals during the Conquest.

I didn't hesitate to pick up the ten journals with devotion and care, after all, they were legends told to the following generations in the House of the Dragon and had never been seen in person by anyone. And suddenly I was holding in my trembling, sweaty hands a small part of the woman who had inspired me so many years after her death.

And for the second time, on the same day as my arrival in Dragonstone, the voice whispered for me to pick up the third diary and read the penultimate pages.

How could I describe the feeling I had when I read what Visenya had written so long ago?

In fact, the shock took away much of my rationality at first, as soon as I reread the same pages for the third time. Was it possible? I began to wonder, and I paced back and forth across the room, my heart racing. There was a reason for my recent discovery, and the voice directed me to find the diaries, the shrine, the pages to be read, and how the blood ritual was to be carried out.

Then, a crazy plan began to form in my mind, and this could be a precious advantage to use in Stepstones.

Queen Visenya told me in her diary that there was a blood ritual that linked the mind of the rider to the mind of his dragon, as if they were one. It was a unique connection that would only be broken with the death of one of them. She, King Aegon I, and Queen Rhaenys performed the ritual and bonded with their dragons before the Conquest.

And now, I would try to bind myself to my beautiful Syrax like my ancestors to fight in the war alongside Daemon.

The shrine door creaked loudly when I pushed it with my elbow, and the smell of mold mixed with old dirt reached my nose. I wanted to give the shrine a good clean, but time was running against me at the moment, so I put it off until after the war. I left the candlestick with the lit candle and the chalice with Syrax's blood on the altar while my thoughts turned to Daemon, and a small smile appeared at the thought of him.

My uncle was not a man who believed in magic. In fact, he was rather skeptical, even though he rode a monstrous fire-breathing beast, and the two of them shared an enviable bond. However, he loved our Valyrian roots and stories and had enormous admiration for the great warrior and legendary queen that Visenya Targaryen once was.

It was inevitable to imagine what the Rogue Prince would say when he heard about Vinesya's shrine, her diaries, and the blood ritual.

A smug smile appeared on my lips at the thought that, although he too had inhabited the queen's chamber when he was exiled by the King or when he visited Dragonstone on his own, Daemon never discovered the passage, the tunnels, or the secret room with Visenya's shrine. I was the one who found everything, including the ten journals.

''Concentrate on what you have to do now, Rhaenyra.'' I ordered myself to stay focused.

With the help of the candle I had brought from my bedroom, I began to carefully light the other candles already positioned in front of the statues of the Fourteen Flames. As soon as the shrine became clearer, I took off my robe, becoming completely naked, and the silver curls fell around me like a waterfall. I kneeled in front of the ancient images, picked up the dagger, and placed the chalice with Syrax's blood in front of me.

The silence seemed so disturbingly loud around me that I could hear my heart beating fast. I took a deep breath to calm my churning stomach and keep my mind focused on the ritual.

I couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

Hissing softly with discomfort, I gently pressed the tip of the blade into my palm, and a thin layer of blood began to drip. The smell of rust was a little strong, but I kept my concentration on letting the crimson liquid fall into the chalice and mix with the still warm blood of my golden lady, which I had collected that very afternoon. I then put the dagger aside, not caring about the cut, and spread our mixed blood on my finger.

On my forehead is the rune of the mind.

Between my breasts is the rune of the heart.

On my left shoulder, the blood runs.

On my right shoulder is the rune of fire.

My skin began to burn slightly where I had made the runes, but I paid no attention. I bent forward, closed my eyes, and began to mutter the ancient prayer in high Valyrian:

"O mighty Valyrian Gods,

In this sacred moment, I, the night, join you,

my dragon.

With blood, fire, and magic,

Our minds intertwine,

Like the wings of a dragon in flight.

May our connection be strong and true,

And may we share thoughts,

Visions and wisdom.

May it be so!’’

As soon as the last words were whispered, the air seemed to become denser, making it a little difficult to breathe normally. The silence deepened even more, and the surrounding heat intensified. The sensation of magic was incredible and disturbing at the same time. I opened my eyes and shuddered at the sight, feeling my lips reopen in sheer disbelief.

The flames rose and reflected the images of me with Syrax.

Drink your blood mixed with that of your dragon now to complete the ritual, Rhaenyra Targaryen!

Ignoring the burning on my skin that gradually increased where the runes had been drawn, I took the hot chalice in my trembling hands and brought it to my lips. The bitter, ferrous, and unpleasant taste went down my throat with difficulty, leaving a burning trail. It was as if I had started to burn from the inside. Desperate to get rid of the sensation, I choked on what was left, then started coughing loudly and dropped the chalice on the floor near my knees.

I started scratching my skin to try to relieve the burning in my throat, but it didn't help. On the contrary, the sensation of fire and despair only increased rapidly over a short period of time. Although I had read the experience described in detail by Queen Visenya, the reality proved much more cruel and unforgiving.

I was being burned from the inside out.

The first scream escaped from the bottom of my chest without my permission. The second and third screams I managed to hold back by pressing my lips together, but tears of anguish and physical pain poured from my eyes. A new metallic taste appeared in my mouth when I accidentally bit my tongue. My mind was a mess, with confused and blurred images, none of which I could distinguish.

Amidst all the chaos, a glimpse of a beautiful night, with a full moon and bright stars, flashed through my head, accompanied by a familiar, sad grunt.

I couldn't stand it any longer, not at the moment when the fire seemed to spread from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes. So I screamed as loud as my despair would allow, begging for it all to end soon, for the Valyrian gods to have mercy on me. It was of no use, and the tears gushed out even more. Now it wasn't just my insides that were being burned, my skin was being kissed by Balerion's flames and melting in the process.

I fell onto my side, and the sensation of the cold ground against my skin brought a little relief to my suffering. I remained in the same position, only curling up tighter against myself and crying with muffled sobs. Furthermore, I gasped softly, my heart beating fast throughout the process. At some point, the burning became more bearable, so I was able to relax my tense, aching muscles and breathe more normally.

I don't know how long I was trapped in the Visenya shrine, although it felt like a long time. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as soon as I was able to sit down and stretch my legs a little in the limited space of the altar. Now there was only a slight burning sensation in my lower back. I took another deep breath and licked my dry, slightly parched lips.

I looked at the flames and found them at their normal size.

It was all so surreal.

Despite feeling physically exhausted, my muscles tense and aching, I had to get back to my bedroom and find my cousin. Laena must have been distressed by my cries and my delay. I found some support on the altar and stood up with my legs still shaky and weak.

‘’Damn it!’’ I cursed softly and grimaced when I almost fell as I bent down to pick up my cloak from the floor.

I let out a soft moan as the fabric of the robe came into contact with the very sensitive skin of my back. Then I tried to tie my disheveled hair into a high knot, blew out the candles, placed the chalice on the altar, and left the sanctuary, closing the door behind me with a loud creak.

The candle in the candlestick cast a little light down the narrow corridor, and I walked with slow steps.

''Rhaenyra!'' Laena exclaimed with tears in her eyes as I came out of the secret door and threw herself on top of me. Her arms squeezed me so tightly that I let out a low moan of pain. ''I'm so sorry, princess!'' She held me by the shoulders and examined me from head to toe, looking for injuries. ''I was so worried.'' She sniffled softly.

I wiped away her tears and gave her a small smile.

''A little sore, but I'm fine.'' I whispered, sincerely. ''The worst is over, Lae.''

She shook her head, her eyes watering, and her countenance still worried.

''I could hear you screaming, begging our gods...'' She started crying again and let out a sob. My heart was squeezing, and I pulled her into my arms. ''Don't ever scare me like that again, Rhaenyra!'' She ordered through her tears.

I hugged her tighter, stroked her back, and then whispered:

''I'm sorry, Laena.'' I pulled away to look her in the eye. ''But I had to...'' I licked my lips. ''I'm willing to do anything to make sure our family wins.''

At first, she seemed startled by what I was saying, but then she nodded.

''If Alicent were here, she'd want to hit you, Rhaenyra.'' She murmured, calmer now. I had to laugh because it was true, as the longing for our friend flooded through me. ''But had Queen Visenya's ritual worked?''

I still didn't feel any new or more intense connection with Syrax, so I couldn't be sure. It would be very frustrating if the ritual had gone wrong.

''We'll find out now, Lae.'' I smiled a little tensely.

The cloak fell in a small pile around my feet, and I stood with my back to Laena. If the ritual had worked, a design exactly like that of my golden lady should appear on my skin, as if someone had made it with their own hands.

''Laena?'' I called out to her when she didn't say anything. ''Did it go wrong?'' I turned my head over my shoulder and could see the tip of a black line. ''Cousin, there's something here, but I can't see it properly.''

I finally faced my lady-in-waiting, and she was wide-eyed, and her lips were parted.

''Yes!" she laughed and clapped her hands. Although her purple eyes and the tip of her nose were reddened by recent crying, Laena's expression was euphoric, and her smile was huge. ''You have the image of Syrax drawn on your back so perfectly, Nyra! You need to see this!''

A huge, satisfied smile spread across my face as my heart leapt with happiness. Not caring about my nakedness, I walked over to the mirror and stood back, looking over my shoulder. I gasped a little, and my eyes went wide when I saw the full extent of the huge design that covered almost all of my skin.

It really was as if a very talented painter had drawn Syrax on a piece of parchment or a painting.

I could see every detail, down to the smallest, of the majestic and perfect way in which each line shaped my golden lady. It was as if Syrax was in full flight, with her beautiful wings beating heavily in the sky and a powerful torrent of fire coming out of her huge open mouth.

''We're finally connected, my girl.”

A shiver went up my spine when the voice, which was a mixture of something feminine and a kind of sweet grunt, sounded so tender in my head.  Tears flooded my eyes, and I fell.

''Syrax?'' I whispered, holding my hand over my chest. ''Is that you?''

Laena, who was standing in front of me, gasped softly and took my trembling hand between hers.

“Yes, my princess.”

I gasped loudly and hugged Laena. We laughed like crazy girls.

''It worked, cousin!'' I looked at her with a huge smile. ''My golden lady and I are linked, as Queen Visenya described.'' I laughed with pure happiness.

Laena kissed my cheeks and then murmured:

''So you're protected from the fire too, right?''

I turned away from her and walked towards one of the lit candles. Without hesitation, I touched my finger to the flame and felt no immediate burn from the contact. After feeling as if I had been burned alive from the inside out, the sensation was comforting. I smiled but frowned when I noticed that the cut on my palm had completely healed.

“We're waiting for you here, my princess.”

As soon as Syrax had finished whispering, screams of dread began to resound through the castle, and there was the familiar sound of powerful dragon wings beating the air.

''What the hell is going on?'' exclaimed Laena, frightened.

♛

Notes:

Our princess Rhaenyra is linked to Syrax and they can talk now, but our beloved Nyra will be linked to another dragon for the time being. Any guesses as to which dragon?

Rhaneyra's prayer was taken from an artificial intelligence website.

Beijos na bunda, gringos!

Chapter 7: Chapter 5.

Notes:

Hello, my loves! I'm back with another chapter! Did I hear an amen? Amen, brothers and sisters! Today, we're going to find out which dragon appeared with our beautiful Syrax, but two people have already figured it out. I also want to thank all of you for your favorites, reads and comments!

As always: the dialogues in italics are in Valyrian.

P.S. SE VC É BR E TÁ LENDO ISSO AQUI, SAIBA QUE ESSA MESMA HISTÓRIA ESTÁ SENDO POSTADO EM PORTUGUÊS NO WATTPAD. Lá, a história está com mais capítulos. Meu user @DeusaBastet

♛

Chapter 5.

"I could feel his fury through the weak connection that was gradually growing between the two of us."

Dragonstone, 113 AD.

The moment I crossed the castle gates and my bare feet touched the cold stone floor of the main courtyard, I stopped running abruptly and gasped loudly in sheer disbelief at the sight before me. Some servants, guards, and Maester Gerardys himself had already told me what all the fuss was about in the middle of the night, but I still couldn't believe my eyes.

''No, princess!'' Startled, Laena screamed and grabbed my arm as I took a step forward.

''You can't come any closer! It's dangerous!''

She tried to pull me into the protection of the guards with their swords at our backs, but my feet remained firmly planted on the ground. I felt trapped in a state of horror, enchantment, confusion, and hypnosis, unable to look away from the beautiful, monstrous beast that was perched next to Syrax. A small part of my brain realized that everyone present was murmuring fear and insecurity.

All it took was for the dragon to open its mouth and blow out a flame of fire to burn everyone except me, in theory, as I had experienced with the candle flame moments before.

''There is no need to fear him, my princess.'' Syrax's voice sounded confident and reassuring in my mind. She remained calm, neither letting out a warning growl against the other dragon nor stepping forward to protect me. "Tennebris is here to join us in the battle that is about to take place.'' She turned her large golden head towards the other dragon and stared at him intensely with her clear green eyes.

My heart raced the moment the emerald green eyes of the great, majestic, and wild dragon with scales as black as the deepest, darkest night met mine. Known as Cannibal by ordinary people and by the Targaryens themselves, Tennebris crawled heavily towards me and stopped a few meters away. His piercing, fierce eyes scanned us cautiously and then focused on me, while his hot breath hit me and stirred my disheveled hair, still tied up in a high bun.

I shivered at the intensity, and it was the first time that the presence of a dragon had intimidated me. Tennebris had never been seen so closely by people. On the contrary, we all knew that he lived on Dragonstone, but his cave was on a mountain on the other side of the island, in a more hidden place that was difficult to access. Now, however, he was in front of me, and a slight connection began to form in my heart as I looked at him.

''This is the child blessed by the Fourteen Flames? Protected by the Goddess Syrax since birth?'' Tennebris asked my golden lady. I felt my brow furrow at the mighty dragon's “words”. "Is she the true Dragon Princess? From her blood will come the promised heir, as Aegon I Targaryen dreamed?'' He seemed rather dismissive of me.

A dragon was actually mocking me?

A sudden fury seized me. I snorted loudly and crossed my arms, staring at the dragon with narrowed eyes. The murmurs behind me got louder, and I could feel Laena staring at me as if I were crazy.

And maybe I really was going mad.

''Don't talk about me as if I weren't here, Tennebris!'' I retorted angrily in high Valyrian. My gaze focused on my golden lady. ''And why can I hear you too, Syrax? Shouldn't the ritual only connect me to you? And what does it mean that I have been blessed by the Fourteen Flames and protected by the Goddess Syrax? And why will Tennebris join us in the War of the Stepstones?'' I poured a torrent of questions into my dragon.

Still behind me, Laena suddenly choked and started coughing loudly. Of all of us gathered, she was the only one who knew the language of our ancestors. Syrax crawled heavily towards me, while the guards and some servants backed away in fear and nudged my chest with her huge muzzle. It was automatic to hug her, put my face against her super-warm scales, and feel the rest of my tension go away.

''Finally, I can put into words how much I love you, my brave little warrior girl,'' Syrax declared with intensity. "I am so proud that you are my knight, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.''

A few warm, shy tears rolled down my cheeks, and I faced my lady with my heart racing. Syrax tilted her head and winked her light green eyes at me.

''I love you too, my girl.'' I whispered, overcome with emotion, and wrapped my arms around her neck again. ''I've always loved you, Syrax.’’

Syrax let out a gust of warm air through her nose and tapped her muzzle gently on my stomach, making me laugh. At that moment, I felt very happy and complete inside. Finally, I turned to face the two dragons. Tennebris was a little distant and mentally silent.

''To try to prevent the House of the Dragon from falling into the hands of the Greens, the dragons from dancing themselves to death, and the Targaryens from becoming extinct over the years, the Valyrian Gods used the rest of their powers to bless you at your birth, Princess Rhaenyra.” My golden lady murmured. ‘’The Goddess Syrax herself took you in as her ward and has been guiding you since you were 12 days old. The voice you hear is that of our Goddess, speaking and guiding you in the best possible way."

The rounds of revelations from the two dragons left me in a state of pure bewilderment. A lot of information was being dumped on me in a very short period of time, and a large part of me wasn't prepared for even half of it.

Blessed by the Fourteen Flames? Protected by the Goddess Syrax? The fall of the House of the Dragon in another world? Had the gods chosen me to prevent our downfall in this world? Was the voice I had been listening to and guiding me for the past four years that of my favorite goddess? What did it mean that dragons danced themselves to death? Would there come a day when we Targaryen's would no longer exist?

My eyes blurred with tears of fear, while my stomach churned distressingly and my breath seemed to catch in my throat.

"There's no need to fear, my child.'' Sensing the flood of negative feelings in me, Syrax moved. ''I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that the path will be easy, Rhaneyra, because it won't be. However, you won't be alone at any time. You'll always have the two of us...” Her golden tail waved in the direction of the black dragon. “The humans who are loyal to you, the Valyrian Gods, and the Warrior Prince."

The image of Daemon flooded my mind.

‘’Daemon...’’ I sighed his name, feeling a sudden wave of longing.

Syrax let out a grunt of approval.

“Yes, my girl.”

"In another world, we were all condemned to a terrible death and irreparable loss because of a foolish Targaryen. The Gods sent warnings in the form of dreams to King Viserys, but he thought himself special and interpreted them as he saw fit.” Suddenly, Tennebris let out a loud, animalistic roar of pure irritation. "That stupid human!'' Another roar rang out in the middle of the night, causing another wave of agitation in the guards, and a green glow rose in his throat. ''I've lost my girl because of those bastards!"

Tennebris was furious.

I shuddered at the sound and could feel his fury and pain through the weak connection that was gradually growing between the two of us. Tennebris' feelings also began to affect me, although they were no match for Syrax. I took a deep breath. How much more could this night reveal? I was a little startled when Laena's trembling, sweaty hands encircled my arm. I tilted my head in her direction and saw that her eyes were shining with fear and elation.

''You're managing to communicate freely with Syrax and the Cannibal.'' She murmured, without looking away from either of them, in high Valyrian.

''Tennebris.'' I automatically corrected her. ''His name isn't Cannibal, it's Tennebris. And yes, I can communicate with both of them.''

Laena seemed to become more incredulous and delighted with the direction our evening had taken after my ritual. As she said nothing more, I turned my attention back to the dragons. Syrax had moved away from me and was growling at Tennebris. The black dragon seemed a little calmer, although his mind was a mess of flashing images. However, one image caught my attention uncontrollably, and an immeasurable sadness gripped my heart.

Suddenly, I fell to my knees and started gasping loudly for breath.

''Rhaenyra!'' Laena despaired and grabbed me by the shoulders. ''Cousin?'' She called out, as I gasped loudly for air. ''Maester Gerardys, please!''

Tears gushed from my eyes.

''Lady Laena, I'm here.'' Maester Gerardys kneeled in front of me and held my face between his hands. ''Princess Rhaenyra, I need you to concentrate on my voice and breathe with me.''

I wanted to answer him, but my tongue was too heavy, and my mind was increasingly out of touch with reality.

''Cousin!''

I could only relive the scene I had witnessed of the black dragon, although the memory didn't seem to belong to this Tennebris either. But that didn't stop him from feeling pain and grief in equal measure.

''Princess, please focus on me!''

"Rhaenyra!?'' Syrax approached, but neither Maester Gerardys nor Laena moved away. ''What did she see in your mind, Tennebris?'' She snarled at the other dragon, furious.

"Nothing!'' He roared. "I just remembered when my version of the other world lost its rider."

A cry of anguish escaped from the bottom of my chest as the image of a small package being burned on a pyre replayed itself in my mind. It was as if I were present at the funeral and felt all the anguish, anger, disgust, regret, and desire for revenge of the silver-haired woman standing in front of the pyre, although I couldn't see her face. Next to her, there was a man, and he seemed to share her state of mind.

Deep in my memory, a loud, ferocious roar, overflowing with pain, sounded.

It was Tennebris mourning the loss of his knight, who had barely breathed in the other world.

''No!" I screamed in sheer agony and began to struggle against Laena and Meistre Gerardys. I wanted to thrust my arms into the flames, grab the little bundle, and protect it from the world. ''No!" The tears gushed out. ''She's my daughter! They killed my daughter!''

The incomprehensible words came out of my mouth on their own, and the feeling of loss, sadness, anguish, hatred, and revenge welled up inside me with every tear shed. I was in such a delirious state that all I wanted to do was grab my sword, climb onto Syrax and set off to slaughter everyone who had taken the little girl from the maternal arms of that woman in the memory of Tennebris.

''Rhaenyra? Princess?'' Laena shook me. ''What the hell!''

The moment my mind and body slipped into a state of extreme lack of control, everything seemed to suddenly shut down on me. My vision began to blur, my breathing became slower, and even my heart seemed to beat more slowly.

''Help me, the princess is about to faint!'' shouted Maester Gerardys.

I could still see that Laena was crying, Syrax and Tennebris were snarling at each other in a kind of dragon argument, and the guards and servants present were agitated.

''Cousin!''

Finally, the darkness swallowed me up.

♛

Before almost fleeing from King's Landing to Dragonstone, I sneaked into the room containing the royal treasures to get two special objects to use in the Stepstones War. Although I didn't care about the consequences or fear any punishment, my act could be considered an unforgivable theft, as I did it without any order or recognition from the King.

In my opinion, an unforgivable act would be to keep Queen Visenya's Valyrian steel armor and Queen Rhaenys Fire Heart sword, also made of Valyrian steel, in a corner, totally abandoned and dusty, in the royal treasure room.

''By the Valyrian gods...'' Laena muttered in astonishment as she walked away after helping me put on the queen's armor. She looked me up and down with a slightly wide-eyed purple gaze. ''Rhaenyra, you look like the living image of Queen Visenya.'' A smile appeared on her beautiful face.

Fortunately, the late Warrior Queen and I had the same short stature and a slightly stronger body due to training than the other young maidens my age. Only the breastplate of the armor was a little tight and uncomfortable on my larger breasts.

''I'm flattered to hear that, my fair lady'' I winked, and my smile turned mischievous when I saw her cheeks blush. ''Laena, are you ready to leave Driftmark too?'' I asked, turning my back to her and going to fasten Queen Rhaenys' sword around my waist.  ''Cousin?'' I frowned at her continued silence and turned to look at her. ''Lae?''

Laena was closer than I had expected and ended the short distance between us when I stared at her curiously. With her cheeks still flushed, my cousin had a warm gleam in her eyes and a provocative smile on her lips. I swallowed because I recognized that expression. Finally, she put her left hand on my waist and slid the delicate fingers of her right hand into the hair at the nape of my neck, where she dug her nails in. A shiver ran up my back.

''Laena?'' I shouted doubtfully and licked my own lips. ''What are you doing?'' I whispered.

She forced my face towards hers, and her soft lips brushed mine in an almost non-existent caress. I was paralyzed, my arms inert at my sides, and my mind in a state of confusion.

''Nyra...'' She purred and bit her lower lip. ''It's to bring you luck.'' Laena smiled, digging her nails further into the back of my neck.

Her lips covered mine in a slow, delicious kiss. In return, I put my hands on her waist and pulled her close to me. She moaned softly when I slid my tongue between her lips.

''Cousin...'' I widened my eyes, gasping a little when she pulled away from me. Laena gave another teasing smile. ''Laena, why did you kiss me, and why the hell did I kiss you back?'' I asked, even more surprised.

She shrugged, with a relaxed posture.

''Think of it as a good luck present from Harwin and me.''

I blushed, but I had to laugh at her audacity.

''You're impossible, Lady Laena.''

Relaxed, Laena gave a shrug and a mischievous wink.

''It's part of my resilient charm, my beautiful princess.''

Anyway, it wasn't as if it was the first time we'd kissed.

♛

The icy waves broke against the strip of dark sand at the foot of the mountain, where the castle stood. The strong, cold sea breeze kissed my face as I walked towards the two mighty dragons waiting for me. At the top, the sky was completely gray, and it looked like it would start raining at any moment.

At that time of the morning, it was just the three of us on Dragonstone Beach.

''Syrax!'' I was very excited when I saw her, and I cracked a huge smile, running to catch up with her. Fortunately, the armor was light and didn't hinder my movements. ''My lady!'' I threw myself on top of her and wrapped my arms around her neck.

"My girl!"

Syrax let out a series of happy snaps and made a sound that reminded me of a cat's purr. I laughed and kissed her warm scales, then turned to Tennebris. The wild dragon was further away, lying on the dark sand and watching us intently.

''Tennebris!'' I exclaimed with the same excitement, and my armor made a soft clink as I moved towards the black dragon. ''It's good to see you too!'' I stopped in front of him with a huge smile.

His emerald-green eyes seemed to analyze me from head to toe with a certain disdain. I raised an eyebrow at the dragon. Tennebris snorted at me and swung his long, heavy tail in the salty water, causing a few drops to fall on me.

"Are you always annoyingly happy first thing in the morning?" His “voice” sounded a little curious and somewhat accusatory in my mind.

I snorted and rolled my eyes at his bad mood.

''I didn't know a dragon could be as bad-tempered as Caraxes.'' I grumbled in Valyrian and gave a small smile at the thought of my uncle's red dragon. ''You're a grumpy old man, Tennebris.''

It was still surreal to think that, the night before, I had joined Syrax in any way and even been given a second fire-breathing beast as a companion to fight in a war.

The most unbelievable thing was knowing that the same dragon that had been called and known as the Cannibal by people in recent years for its obvious eating habits, as well as being completely wild and having never been ridden by any Targaryen, could be an almost “friendly” and somewhat ill-tempered beast. And, after having a brief glimpse of the memories Tennebris possessed and feeling the pain that still consumed him, a strong affection began to grow inside me for him.

It was true that, although he and I never shared the same connection that Syrax had with me, our bond grew stronger with each passing moment. Moreover, my heart told me that he had come into my life to stay, but not to be “mine” until the end. It was as if Tennebris and I had a partnership that only the gods knew why it had happened.

"Don't compare me to that weird dragon.'' Tennebris retorted more sullenly.

Syrax let out a roar of rage and headbutted the black dragon, causing it to growl at her in response. They didn't “say” anything mentally that I could understand, they just let out angry growls and grunts at each other.

Syrax and Tennebris were “arguing” like two spoiled children.

''Enough!'' I shouted at their beasts, who could crush me with a single paw or tear me apart with a bite. ''I order you to stop this right now!''

Like two spoiled children, Syrax and Tennebris stopped and looked at me.

''Two days ago, the ships with the supplies I obtained left Dragonstone in the early hours of the morning, and Lord Baratheon sent a small army of warriors from Storm's End at the same time, as written on the raven that Maester Gerardys received yesterday.'' I muttered, my cheeks flushing. ''They should already be near Stepstones, so we also need to escort them, in case the pirates try to attack.''

"Very well, my princess.'' Syrax lowered a wing for me to climb into the saddle attached to it.

I gave my mistress a small smile and kissed her muzzle.

''As Tennebris allowed the Guardians to put an old Vhagar saddle on him yesterday, I'll go with him this time to prevent him from being too frightened by our sudden arrival, my pretty.'' I gave Syrax another kiss and turned to the grumpy dragon. ''Let's go?''

If it were possible, the black beast would have rolled its emerald eyes at me as it lowered a wing for me to climb on. I climbed onto it without difficulty and used the pointed horns as levers to move faster. My chest bubbled with excitement as I was about to meet my uncle again and face my first real battle.

''Let's go!'' I ordered, after sitting in the saddle and tying the chains tightly around me. ''Fly, Syrax and Tennebris!''

Finally, the two dragons ran a little and launched themselves into the air with force.

♛

 

Notes:

Whoever said "Cannibal" got it right, but now we'll call him Tennebris. And I'm already loving this grumpy old dragon. I can already tell that Tennebris and Caraxes are not going to get along because of Syrax. Our little red dragon will be as possessive of his golden lady as Daemon is of Nyra.

Laena kissing Rhaenyra, I LOVE IT!

Just to clarify: there was no betrayal in that kiss. Let's just say that Laena kissed Nyra for herself and for Harwin, and he also knew that Lae would give our dragon princess a "good luck" kiss. And Rhaenyra and Daemon aren't a couple yet, they're both single, BUT only for a short time. Our Nyra is going after the man she loves and will soon claim him as her own.

Kisses!

Chapter 8: Interlude 1.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

I've finally managed to climb out of the hole I was in and I'm back to post another chapter.

While Nyra flies off with Tennebris and Syrax to war, let's see how the rats of King's Landing react to this news?

♛

Interlude 1.

 “Her deepest, darkest secret was the overwhelming love she felt for his good brother.’’

King's Landing, 113 A.D.

The young Meister's footsteps echoed through the corridors of the Red Keep as he ran, almost out of breath. In his trembling, sweaty hands was a letter from the Heir Princess, who had just arrived from Dragonstone, to be delivered to the King immediately.

Five days ago, Princess Rhaenyra had left for the island of her ancestors with the first rays of sunshine, and, ever since, the King had been upset and wanted his daughter back. The Heir to the Iron Throne left only a note for Viserys, saying that she had gone to Dragonstone to sort out some local matters and would be back soon.

‘’I need to speak to Your Grace.’’ He said, almost out of breath, to the two Royal Guards who stood in the doorway of the Small Council chamber. The red, sweaty face of the Maester's race showed his urgency to deliver the message. ‘’A raven from Dragonstone has arrived...’’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘’It's from the Crown Princess.’’ He added it nervously.

One of the guards nodded to the other and entered the Council Chamber. The large man in the well-polished armor and white cloak didn't take long to ask the young Meister to enter, with the order given by the King himself. The boy's legs trembled a little, and he broke out in a cold sweat as he stood under the gaze of all the members of the Small Council. Grand Meister Mellos looked at him with an irritated expression and a frown.

‘’Your Grace...’’ The young man bowed awkwardly to King Viserys and lifted the silver tray on which the letter lay. ‘’A raven has just arrived from Dragonstone.’’ He stuttered a little and approached the table when the king signaled with his hand.

King Viserys was anxious to hear from his beloved daughter and heir, so he wasted no time in breaking the seal with the engraving of a three-headed dragon and opening the paper to start reading. Not far from him, the worm, also known as Otto Hightower, ordered the boy to leave and exchanged a glance with Grand Master Mellos.

Later, they would meet secretly to talk.

“No!” shouted the King suddenly, startling the other men present. They all looked at him and were surprised to see how red Viserys' face was with rage. ''I can't believe Rhaenyra would do such a foolish thing!'' He roared and punched the table furiously.

Lord Strong and Lord Beesbury exchanged a startled glance with each other, but said nothing. Mellos, the Lord Commander, and Lord Tyland Lannister stirred uncomfortably in their seats. It was the worm who broke the tense silence as the king let out indecipherable whispers and turned redder and redder.

''Your Grace...'' The Hand of the King began in a neutral, restrained tone. ''Are you all right?'' He tilted his head in a false sign of concern. ''Is Princess Rhaenyra all right?''

Any inconvenience the Crown Princess caused the King was an advantage for his plans and those of his daughter, Queen Diana Hightower. And, apparently, the brat had done something very serious to annoy Viserys and make him explode with rage like that.

The worm had to hold back a satisfied smile.

''Rhaenyra... my daughter...'' The king paused abruptly and ran his hand nervously through the silver wires. ''See for yourself and read it out for all to hear, Otto.'' He pushed the parchment towards his most faithful servant, who took the paper with restrained eagerness.

King Viserys was trying to calm his anger and think rationally. He knew that his little girl was a free spirit, loved to ride Syrax on harmless adventures, and could handle a sword much better than many knights, but the action she had taken could only have the finger of her damned younger brother in the middle. As always, since his miserable birth, Daemon Targaryen has remained his main source of headaches and sorrow.

Ah, the Stranger could have taken Daemon instead of Alyssa, his beloved dead mother, on the day of his birth.

It was a dark desire that the King hid in the deepest place of his heart, and it was one of the reasons why he didn't lift a single finger to send any kind of help to Daemon during the two years of the war. To tell the truth, he didn't care about his younger brother or the situation in Stepstones because Otto claimed that everything was fine, that it would stay that way, and that nothing would affect the Kingdom in any way.

And now, somehow, his damned brother had managed to get in direct contact with his beloved little girl, despite the fact that no raven that reached the Red Keep ended up in her hands, and convinced her to send her Dragon Stone ships with food and provisions to Stepstones. And as if this affront to the King of the Seven Kingdoms wasn't enough, the damned Rogue Prince also dragged the Heir to the Iron Throne into a bloody war that had nothing to do with the Crown, as Otto had whispered.

There would be a day in the future when the King would regret the past, but it would be too late for any forgiveness.

Viserys was brought out of his angry and turbulent thoughts when his faithful Hand began to read aloud the message sent by his little girl:

''Your Grace, by the time this letter reaches your hands, I will have left Dragonstone for Stepstones with Syrax.

Contrary to what the Hand reports in the Small Council, the situation of the war and my uncle is one of the most dire and worrying. I have therefore taken the decision to act on my own, since neither you nor the Kingdom are inclined to offer any help to the brave men fighting, nor to Lord Corlys Velaryon or even Prince Daemon Targaryen. From my own island and my own financial funds, ships have been sent with men, food, and provisions for my uncle.

I will only return to King's Landing when the war against Crabfeeder is won.

Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.’’

As soon as Otto had finished reading the parchment, his satisfaction became tastier and deeper. The brat had dug her own grave by joining her violent uncle in a war without the king's permission or knowledge. Now, it was only a matter of time before he and his daughter managed to pour sweetly poisonous words into the King's ear, and Viserys removed the brat from the line of succession and declared his grandson, Baelon III, the rightful heir.

Otto needed to meet with Diana urgently so that the two of them could start drawing up a plan for how to approach the King at this important moment, but without upsetting him and losing a precious opportunity to put his blood on the Iron Throne.

''Everyone...'' Visery's deep, still irritated voice drew the men's attention. ''Leave now, please. Even you, my friend.'' The king whispered directly to Otto when he realized he was going to say it now. ''I need to be alone and think about what to do.''

The men stood up, bowed, and left the Small Council chamber with very different thoughts.

Otto saw a great opportunity to bring down the spoiled brat; Lord Beebury was already thinking about how much gold the war won by the Targaryens could bring into the royal coffers, which were currently at a very low level; Grand Master Mellos and Tyland Lannister shared the same opinion that a woman could never wield a sword, let alone have the ability to win a war; Lord Strong was more confident that the ships sent and the princess herself riding a dragon were what they needed at Stepstones.

As for Lord Commander Harrold Westerling?

He was deeply proud of the Crown Princess and prayed that his gods and her gods would support her as Rhaenyra waged war. The Lord Commander knew that the young Princess was brave and skilled with the sword, even though she had never taken part in a real battle, and he was a little afraid that she would end up getting hurt. On the other hand, he was also sure that the Rogue Prince would protect her if necessary.

♛

The Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, Diana Hightower, was in her manner, her legs a little swollen, resting on a sun lounger, and her hands resting on her protruding belly from seven moons of pregnancy. Around her, her ladies-in-waiting were having tea with various cakes, sewing, or gossiping among themselves in excited whispers.

Diana kept a gentle expression, although she was boiling with anger at having to put up with these boring, superficial, and chatty women around her almost all day. She would have liked to push each of them out of the window of the highest tower of the Red Keep, or order one of her personal guards to whip them. But unfortunately, in her eyes, these were just wishes that would never come true.

She herself had once been a lady-in-waiting to the late Queen Aemma Arryn when she was just a maiden, so she knew how important it was to keep these dull, empty-minded women around in order to maintain her high status and have allies in powerful Houses.

At the beginning of her life as queen, it wasn't easy for Diana to get ladies from great and noble houses because, secretly, no father wanted his own daughter to have her image linked to that of the woman who slipped into the king's bed still in mourning. Before her success as King Visery's consort, Diana had to face a torrent of gossip, judgmental glances, and nasty whispers behind her back when she turned around.

The birth of her firstborn, Prince Baelon III, seven moons after her hasty marriage to the king, only added to the evil rumors about her. And in the end, who was to blame? The brat her husband still kept as the heir to the Iron Throne. At the time, the princess was just over 12 days old when she barged into her father's chambers like a damn uneducated child and caught them in an intimate act.

One day, the pathetic “Heiress Princess” would pay for putting her through such embarrassment and almost having her reputation completely ruined forever within the Royal Court, Diana Hightower was sure of it.

''Come in!'' The Queen muttered when she heard a loud knock on her bedroom door.

The door opened, and the guard bowed when he saw her.

''Lord Otto wishes to speak with you, Your Grace.''

Diana gave a genuine smile and nodded to the guard.

''You may let him in, sir,” she murmured and turned to her ladies. Diana knew that her father would have something important to talk about, as he was supposed to be at a Council meeting at that moment. ''My lovely ladies, would you excuse me?'' She asked in a falsely sweet tone. ''I need to have a private word with my beloved father.''

Her ladies giggled, bowed respectfully, and left the manor as the worm entered and closed the door behind him. Diana's expression really lit up, and she smiled at her father.

''Daddy, I'm so happy to see you!'' She exclaimed and then frowned. Otto went over to a table, poured some wine into a glass, and sat down quietly on the sofa next to his daughter. ''Although I appreciate your visit, shouldn't you be meeting with the King and the other Lords now, father?''

Otto raised a finger to ask for a break and took a sip of the wine, enjoying the sweet taste. Finally, he left the glass on the table next to him and looked at his daughter with a huge smile.

''After the brat managed to get the idiot king to sign the annulment of that bum's marriage to Rhea Royce in my absence from King's Landing, I bring excellent news for our plans, my child.'' Otto's eyes sparkled with every word he said, and his mind kept planning the next steps they would both take. ''A raven from the little prostitute arrived today from Dragonstone.''

Diana shifted her posture, and her smile widened. The news sounded so good to her ears that she even forgot her annoyance at the child who had been kicking her from an early age.

''What's the pest doing this time?'' she asked, impatient and excited.

The queen loved to have any reason at hand to make “innocent” comments to her ladies-in-waiting about her prostitute stepdaughter. Diana knew that the gaggle of women would spread the rumors about Rhaenyra through the court like fire through dry hay. And if there wasn't a real buzz, there was nothing to stop her from inventing one.

''The brat went off to war alone to help her tramp uncle.'' The worm widened his eyes with contempt, but then smiled openly. ''That fool gave us the perfect opportunity to whisper in the King's ear and make him see that Baelon must be the true Heir to the Seven Kingdoms, my dear daughter.''

Diana's broad smile turned into a roaring laugh. She laughed a lot until she felt her belly begin to ache and the baby kick harder. Distractedly, she stroked the affected spot with one hand and gestured for her father to pour her a glass of wine.

''What splendid news, Dad.'' She took a sip of the wine and licked her wet lips, but became serious when a thought occurred to her. ''Father, what makes you think that this time my useless husband will change his mind? Viserys insists on keeping that little daughter of his as an heir, while my son is the future rightful king after his death.'' Diana frowned and continued in an irritated tone: “I've already given him a male heir, a spare, and I'm pregnant for the third time in four years, but Viserys only seems to see his little whore daughter.''

Viserys' insistence on keeping Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, despite Diana having already given birth to two Targaryen-looking boys, both completely healthy, was a point that unnerved both father and daughter.

If it had been for Diana's wish, they would have already gotten rid of the King and his little girl, as they did with the late Queen Aemma Arryn, and placed Baelon as King. However, her father and uncle said that it was too soon, that everyone should keep calm and continue to act cautiously, as one false step would lead years of quiet victories into the mud.

Her uncle, Lord Hobert Hightower, and her father kept saying that, because they weren't the ones who had to lie down with an ugly, disgusting, paunchy man like Viserys Targaryen. Pretending to love him, always maintaining the mask of a loving stepmother, a caring mother to the two brats she gave birth to, and being a woman with a fervent and submissive faith, the kind and charitable queen demanded a lot of her.

She hated, with all her might, the fact that she was married to Viserys.

On the other hand, being Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms gave Diana beautiful and precious jewels, wonderful dresses with rare fabrics from the Free Cities, access to the best food and drink, authority over almost everyone around her, adoration from the nobles, fame, status, fortune, power, parties, banquets, and the certainty of her superiority to any noble.

To tell the truth, all she had to do was snap her fingers, and her husband's doormat would give Queen Diana Hightower almost anything just to see a smile on her beautiful face. Although there was always something she desperately wanted but could never get hold of, in fact, it was someone. Her deepest, darkest secret was the overwhelming love she felt for her good brother, the Prince Rouge, Daemon Targaryen.

Ever since Diana was a young maiden with 15 days to her name, she fell in love with the fierce, handsome, rebellious, violent, and womanizing Prince of the Realm. She spent sleepless nights dreaming of Daemon, longing to have him in her bed, to be his wife and the mother of his children. On the other hand, apart from the fact that the prince had never seen her in a good light, Diana knew that her destiny was much grander: she was born to be Queen Consort and mother of the future King of the Seven Kingdoms.

On the other hand, she would always compare a handsome and charming warrior prince like Daemon Targaryen with her disgusting older husband, King Viserys I Targaryen.

''Daughter?'' Otto's slightly worried voice brought her back to reality. ''Are you all right, dear?''

Diana blinked and forced a smile at her beloved father.

''Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry, I got distracted.'' She murmured sweetly. Whenever she thought of her handsome prince, her mind traveled to a world where Daemon was the king, and she was his beloved queen and the mother of his beautiful children. ''But what were you really saying?''

Otto studied her soft expression and finally looked convinced.

''I was saying that the damned Dornese had managed to send some scorpions to Stepstones.'' He repeated it with a victorious tone. ''If those idiot pirates know how to use their weapons, they'll kill the hideous beasts, Daemon, and that boy who swallows swords, my dear.''

Diana's eyes sparkled with pure malice, and her wide smile was a perfect copy of Otto's grin.

''I'll pray to the Seven that the little whore and her beloved golden lady, as she herself likes to say, are also slaughtered.'' Diana whispered and took another sip of her wine. ''But...'' She paused and smiled mischievously again. ''Perhaps we could send some men without tongues to pay a little visit to our beloved princess, Papa.''

The worm's answering smile was all Diana needed to know that her father agreed with her idea.

And more hidden than the love the Queen felt for the Prince Rouge was the envy and carnal desire she had for the Crown Princess.

♛

Stepstones, 113 A.D.

The Rogue Prince's expression was one of pure indifference, while his purple eyes examined the letter that had just arrived from King's Landing with great disdain. Taking a deep breath to contain his anger, he broke the seal with the engraving of a three-headed dragon, unrolled the parchment, and began to silently read the reply to yet another request for help from the Crown.

Even the gentle sea breeze, which stirred a few strands of silver loose from his hair in a disheveled braid, seemed to make the atmosphere more tense and the men uncertain and fearful of the Prince's lack of reaction. With each passing day, the situation in Stepstones became even more critical for everyone, which led several warriors to give up and try to leave.

And it was in a last desperate attempt that Daemon sent another request for help to the King.

''Prince...'' began Lord Corlys, hesitating in the face of Daemon's continued silence. Although the Rogue Prince maintained an indifferent expression, the Sea Snake could see a furious, bloodthirsty storm brewing in the eyes of the man who had fought by his side for two years. ''What is King Viserys' answer?''

Laenor exchanged an uncertain look with his father. Finally, Daemon rose from the stone he was sitting on and faced the brave men who had fought by his side for so long.

''Prince Daemon Targaryen,

Unfortunately, the Crown does not have the resources to send aid to Stepstones.

Otto Hightower, Hand of King Viserys I Targaryen.“

Every word Daemon said tasted bitter, with contempt for almost everyone in King's Landing and no sign of surprise. He had swallowed some of his pride and sent a request for help to the Crown, but he already knew what the answer would be before he even received it.

''As before, our beloved King Viserys I Targaryen does not have the resources to help us, my good and brave comrades in arms.'' Daemon's voice rang out, full of disdain and resentment for his older brother. Even to answer him, it was that worm, Otto. ''Burn that shit.'' He threw the crumpled parchment in Laenor's direction.

Boiling with hatred and contempt for those two, the Rogue Prince turned his back on the dirty, hungry, and tired men and walked with heavy steps towards where Caraxes was resting. The presence of the Bloody Worm was the only thing that could appease the rage that boiled in Daemon's blood. A large part of him wanted to take to the skies, go to King's Landing, and burn those worms that were crawling around the Red Keep.

However, Daemon wouldn't do any of this for two reasons.

The first was that his dragon was momentarily unable to fly after being hit lightly by a scorpion arrow in the left wing and having the membrane slightly damaged. He would have to stay on the ground for a few days. And the second reason was that the day would come when his beloved and beautiful niece, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, would become the first Ruling Queen, and she would need the Red Keep standing.

''Old friend...'' Daemon whispered as he stopped next to Caraxes and leaned his forehead against his warm scales. The red dragon let out a low, sad grunt as he realized his rider's feelings. ''It shouldn't hurt anymore...'' He sighed as the Bloody Worm wrapped its abnormally long neck around him. ''But it still hurts... and I'm so tired of the loneliness of not having a family too.''

Daemon Targaryen was mainly known for his bad reputation as the Rogue Prince, but almost everyone seemed to forget that he was also a human being. Well, except for his niece, who had always loved him from the earliest years of her life, who dearly loved receiving gifts from him, handling a sword under his supervision, and who said she wanted to marry him when she reached maturity.

The same niece, who was a few kilometers away, had two fierce dragons attached to her and a few ships with the help everyone needed.

♛

 

 

Notes:

In the next chapter, the Crown Princess and her two beautiful beasts will burn some pirates.

Chapter 9: Chapter 6.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

Finally, Rhaenyra, Syrax and Tennebris are at war.

The dialog in italics is in “High Valyrian”.

Happy reading!

p.s. se vc é br e tá perdido aqui como eu, saiba que essa mesma história está sendo postada no wattpad br. lá, está com muito mais capítulo e em português. Meu user é DeusaBastet

♛

Chapter 6.

“The scene below us was simply an image of chaos, violence, death, fire and blood.”

Stepstones, 113 A.D.

The first flame launched from one of the boats passed within millimeters of my right shoulder just as Tennebris launched his huge black body to the right, taking us out of almost perfect range. Syrax, who was coming up behind us, let out a deep, furious growl that seemed to echo like impetuous thunder in the gray sky covered in black clouds. I clung tightly to the saddle with both hands, and the fury pulsed more intensely through my veins, leaving me thirsting only for chaos and victory over the men who were keeping my uncle away from me.

''Attack!'' I exploded into a violent shout that could be heard above the sound of the dragons' wings beating constantly. ''Dracarys!''

Flying side by side in perfect sync, the two dragons seemed to free-fall through the air at my command, diving straight towards where our enemies were located. A kind of euphoric and completely bloody sensation washed over me as I went into the adrenaline frenzy of battle.

''Dracarys!'' I shouted at the top of my voice to my two dragons.

A torrent of fire covered half of the pirate ships, scorching them and turning everything into ashes and pieces of wood into floating embers. Some pirates, desperate and screaming for their lives, tried to throw themselves into the sea to escape certain death, but none of the dragons would let them. Tennebris liked to swallow them in a single bite, and Syrax chewed them up and spat them out. While other men moved their heavy iron and wooden weapons towards us and launched a hail of arrows.

''Tennebrys...'' A mischievous smile appeared on my face, and the wind threw my braids back violently. My ears were ringing with an accelerated pulse, and my body was boiling with the desire to exterminate all the damned pirates. ''Dracarys!''

Syrax was flying at a higher altitude than both of us and burning the ships with her flames, leaving a trail of death, destruction, and fire behind her. My golden lady acted with ferocity, making incredible maneuvers to dodge the arrows and letting out roars that would make the bravest of men tremble at her power.

''Syrax, look out!'' I shouted, with my heart stuck in my throat, as Tennebris turned us around to burn some more boats, and I saw an arrow pass very close to her. ''Syrax, dracarys!''

I couldn't look at my golden lady any longer, even if she did rain down more fire on anyone who tried to hurt her. Just as Syrax was turning our enemies into ashes in the sea, Tennebris made a sudden move to the right, taking us out of the sights of an arrow that would have hit me in the stomach and caused my death immediately.

''What the fuck!'' I roared with a more intense rage than before and got back into the saddle, holding on tightly. ''Dracarys, Tennebris!''

The green flames of Tennebris destroyed the boat that had almost killed me. He then tilted his gigantic body to the side in the shape of a half-moon, making me cling to the saddle tighter, and opened his mouth to let out another animalistic roar accompanied by a shower of fire.

''Dracarys!'' I exclaimed, feeling the steam from the salt water hit my skin, which was chilled by the violent and bloody emotion. ''Burn them all, my beloved dragons! Dracarys, Syrax! Dracarys, Tennebris!''

Through the connection that united the three of us into a single battle unit, I felt how the two dragons vibrated with enthusiasm and didn't hesitate to comply with my request. In just a few minutes, the remaining parts of the ship were reduced to mere scorched wreckage, almost completely burned, broken, and without the slightest chance of future recovery. The smell of death and smoke mixed perfectly. There were no more weapons or living men either, although there were burned, chewed, and torn-up bodies or parts of human limbs floating in the calm waters of the sea.

The scene below us was simply the image of chaos, violence, death, fire, and blood.

“Now I can understand a little why the Goddess Syrax chose you and why the Fourteen Flames blessed you.'' Tennebris held us still in the air, and his huge black wings flapping non-stop caused a loud noise and waves of wind. ''You are not afraid to face your enemies, nor to bathe in their blood.”

I gave him a half-smile and playfully slapped him on the neck, just to provoke and irritate him. Syrax flew calmly around us and let out a cry of agreement with the black dragon's words.

“I warned you that our princess is fierce, Tennebris.'' She hummed mentally and wagged her tail at one of Tennerbis' feet, causing him to growl angrily at her. Syrax let out another cry of joy, and I had to laugh. They looked like siblings, she was the annoying youngest, and he was the grumpy firstborn. “Rhaenyra is our Dragon Princess for a reason.'' She looked more serious.

I drew my eyebrows together curiously at being called “Dragon Princess” again and opened my mouth to question them, but let out a strangled groan and gasped loudly afterward.

“Human cub?’’

The sudden feeling of suffocation and a sharp pain in my chest made me topple forward, breathing loudly in despair. Tears flooded my eyes, and I clung tighter to the saddle, trying to keep control of my body. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears as my heart raced faster and faster.

“My girl?” Syrax stirred.

I opened my mouth to answer her, and all that came out was a cry of anguish that seemed to come from the depths of my soul. Tears welled up, and I screamed even more, feeling an agonizing pain burn just below my shoulder. I didn't know where the pain was coming from, as I hadn't been injured during the conflict against the pirates. I only felt the physical sensation of my skin being pierced by something sharp and pointed, and then the burning.

Furthermore, I tried to suppress the screams by pressing my lips together, but it was no use.

“Rhaenyra!” Tennebris roared as I grunted in agony.

Uncontrollably, I began to run my nails over the breastplate of the armor to try to get it off me so that I could touch the place that hurt as if it were being burned repeatedly.

“He needs you now, Dragon Princess!"

The voice that had been keeping me company and guiding me for four years sounded like the roar of a dragon in my head.

''Daemon...'' I whispered my beloved's name with such dread. He was hurt, and my heart raced absurdly as the agonizing certainty penetrated the cloud of disorientation in my mind. I could hardly see anything in front of me because of the tears, all I knew was that we needed to get to the island soon. ''He needs us...'' I gasped loudly as another wave of pain seemed to twist my flesh. ''Come on, Syrax, Tennebris!''

The two dragons let out a furious roar. They flew side by side at high speed, their powerful wings beating non-stop, taking us faster and faster in the direction I knew Daemon was heading. The ships coming from Dragonstone and Stormlands would have a clear path for the pirates, so it was one less thing to worry about at the moment. I gripped the saddle tighter between my damp palms and prayed tirelessly that the Valyrian gods would protect my kepus.

Silent tears streamed down my face and were carried away by the wind.

‘’Faster!’’

Syrax and Tennebris remained mentally quiet, but I could sense that they were both worried, irritated, and a little confused by my crying state. They knew that it was the urgency of finally meeting Daemon again—of looking into his beautiful purple eyes and seeing his sneaky, cheeky smile—that made me shout for us to go faster and faster. I needed to know that everything was all right and that he was still standing and strong, like the fierce dragon he had always been.

It was the first time in 11 years of conquering the skies on the back of a dragon alone that I didn't feel the familiar sensation of freedom, the power of flying so many meters above the surface, or the pleasure of the panoramic view of the world that each new place gave me.

I only felt fear.

A few kilometers from where the wreckage of the burnt-out ships lay, and the pirates were reduced to almost nothing, I spotted a large piece of land. I narrowed my eyes to see better and noticed small figures moving fiercely against each other, the black smoke rising high into the gray sky, and the unmistakable color of the fire destroying everything in its path.

Finally, we reached the battlefield on the Stepstones.

Although I had trained and wielded a sword since I was very young, I had never been on a real battlefield. I had never seen a real battle until moments before, when the two dragons burned hundreds of men under my firm command without a hint of regret. I raised my sword against another person to kill them, and I did so without hesitating to spill the blood of someone who no longer deserved to live.

Furthermore, I was always sure that I wouldn't find a beautiful garden with the most beautiful and rare flowers in the Seven Kingdoms the moment I decided to go to Tennebris, with Syrax, to fight in a war alongside my beloved kepus. It would be the first time I had seen a real battle and wielded my sword to kill someone who could also eliminate me without hesitation.

It was then that I switched off most of my emotions, giving myself over to bloody violence and raining down fire on the enemy army.

''Syrax, dracarys! Tennebris, dracarys!''

It was a beautiful, chilling, and unique moment to see how the orange flames of Syrax mixed with the green flames of Tennebris, but I could no longer watch the effect it caused and concentrated on the arrows that were now being aimed at both of us.

''Burn the archers at the top of the mountain, Syrax!'' I shouted as soon as Tennebris had burned hundreds of men at once. My golden lady turned her body, going behind the men to take them by surprise. I felt immensely proud of her. ''Dracarys, Syrax!''

The archers were startled when they saw her and tried to aim their arrows at Syrax, failing miserably. They screamed in despair as the flames engulfed them, and some fell from the top of the mountain. Still in the air, I noticed that the appearance of two more dragons and the shadow that Tennebris' immense body unexpectedly cast over the two enemy armies alone caused several men to raise their heads to the sky in horror.

The malicious smile appeared on my lips, and the cries of suffering at being burned alive rang out loudly as I exclaimed to the black dragon:

''Dracarys, Tennebris!''

The green flames covered much of the ground, scorching the enemies, leaving only a trail of charred bodies, destruction, black soil, ash, and death. Syrax, who had already eliminated all the archers, was not far behind us, and she was burning anyone who stood in front of her. There was no point in running, death would find them in the form of dragon fire. At one point, I realized that only Laenor and Seasmoke were in the sky with us, and there was no sign of Daemon or Caraxes.

Perplexed by what I had just realized, I frowned slightly and began to turn my head, desperately searching for the Bloody Worm in the sky or its unexpected rider on the ground. However, amid the thick black smoke, the fire, the few men still fighting, and the chaos that the battlefield had become, I couldn't see them anywhere.

''Get down on the ground, Tennebris.'' I ordered, urgently. My racing heart, the bitter taste in my mouth, and the growing feeling of helplessness in my stomach weren't helping to calm me down. ''I need to find my uncle, Tennebris.'' I said this when the dragon seemed to hesitate a little. ''I feel he needs me...'' I whispered, my heart writhing in agony.

The ground seemed to shake beneath us as Tennebris landed on the ground with a loud thud, and his sharp claws dug into the ground. The black dragon stretched its neck forward, opened its monstrous mouth, and let out a roar that reverberated impetuously around us. Syrax landed next to it, raised its head, and blew out a torrent of flames, which seemed to fall to the ground like a deadly orange rain.

''Kill them all!'' I muttered as I saw some pirates running towards them like a bunch of fools. ''Dracarys!''

I held on to the saddle as the dragons advanced furiously, burning, trampling, biting, chewing, and swallowing the enemies that stood in front of us. Then Syrax took to the skies, and she started burning the pirates coming after us, while Tennebris made a meal of it. I grimaced, and my stomach churned with disgust as I heard him chew up some men and then swallow them. My golden lady landed beside us again when there were only the three of us, the warriors and Lord Corlys Velaryon, left on the battlefield.

''Princess Rhaenyra?'' My uncle's voice was incredulous, and his wide-eyed gaze was divided between Syrax, me riding another dragon, and the dragon itself. Almost everyone there only knew Tennebris as a Cannibal. ''But... how?'' He took a step forward and swallowed when Tennebris growled at him. ''I... I... I don't understand how...'' He recoiled even more when he heard the black dragon's second growl.

My uncle Corlys' men were also startled and backed away, with wide eyes, terrified expressions, and inaudible murmurs between them. A quick analysis of the warriors only confirmed to me how precarious the situation was on the Stepstones and how untenable it would become in a few days. In addition to the filthy appearance and the strong smell due to the lack of bathing, it was obvious that everyone was not eating properly, not sleeping, and not drinking enough water.

My hatred for Visery's willful blindness and Otto's deep power of manipulation over the King took root in my heart even more.

I knew that no war was like taking a stroll and having a picnic on a beautiful island, where there was no danger and no risk of being hurt. And the men in front of me had the same awareness, but they would all have been in a better position and more inclined to victory if the damned Crown had bothered to help them with more men, food, better weapons, and provisions.

''Hello, Lord Corlys!'' I greeted him with a neutral tone and bowed my head slightly in respect. The man in front of me was someone I considered to be more of a father to me than Viserys himself ever was or would be. And, like him, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was a mother figure to me. ''I hope I arrived with good news and company.'' I smiled briefly and slapped Tennebris on the neck.

A little annoyed, he let out a growl that sounded like a kind of disgruntled snort to my ears, but it was enough to scare the men off again. Syrax grunted, and she flicked her golden tail at his black paw, making him growl.

''Behave yourselves!'' I ordered, seriously, in high Valyrian. I still needed to find my kepus urgently, and I didn't have time to deal with two quarrelsome dragons. ''Where is my uncle Daemon, Lord Corlys?'' I asked, my gaze scanning the sea of men and not finding the familiar face my heart yearned for. ''And Caraxes?'' I frowned.

Before Uncle Corlys could say anything, Laenor and Seasmoke landed a few meters away from the three of us. My cousin's eyes widened, and the color drained from his face as soon as he saw me riding Tennebris. The silver-grey dragon let out a ferocious cry, and Tennebris responded with a warning growl, which showed its deadly, sharp, and large teeth.

''Calm down, Seasmoke!'' Laenor asked shakily of his agitated dragon. ''Stay calm, boy!'' he ordered, while his mount continued to shake and growl at Tennebris.

I realized that Tennebris was about to approach him, so I stopped him with a firm tone:

''Stop right now, Tennebris!'' I pulled the chains tied around his black neck. ''That's an order!''

The black dragon stopped and turned his head to look at me with one of his emerald-green eyes. I gave him a mischievous smile, quickly forgetting my earlier distress, and mentally hummed a compliment.

''Rhaenyra?'' Laenor spoke again, his tone still uncertain and frightened. ''Why are you riding Cannibal?''

Tennebris turned his head towards Laenor and growled loudly when he heard his old “name”. Seasmoke grunted back, taking a few steps back.

''Tennebris, your name is Tennebris.'' I answered Laenor without hesitation and turned to face his father, my heart racing again. ''Where's Daemon, Uncle Corlys? I need to see him.''

Corlys took a deep breath and shook his head negatively. His tense reaction and the lack of an immediate response caused a cold feeling of dread in my stomach. No! Nothing could have happened to my Daemon! I mentally affirmed this and climbed down from the saddle with tear-filled eyes, walking with firm steps towards Lord Velaryon.

''Where is Prince Daemon, Lord Corlys?'' I asked in a harsh, sharp tone as I stopped a few paces away from him and his warriors. ''I demand to be taken to him right now.'' I continued, not caring if I was being arrogant or spoiling anyone.

Uncle Corlys took a deep breath and nodded positively at me.

''Come, princess.''

I nodded and turned to Syrax and Tennebris.

''Stay close, please!''

The two dragons let out grunts of agreement. I smiled slightly at them and then turned to Uncle Corlys. He gave me a slightly apprehensive look, nodded, and we started walking. The men opened the passage for both of us.

''This way, Rhaenyra.'' murmured Corlys expressively.

It didn't take long for us to move away from the battlefield and down the rocks towards the wide sandy shore of the beach. We walked in an agonizing and uncomfortable silence, which allowed the worst and most painful scenarios to take shape in my head.

Where were Daemon and Caraxes? Why hadn't I seen any sign of either of them?

The tears came back to my eyes, and I closed my lips tightly to stop the sobs from escaping. I wouldn't cry in front of anyone or allow the heavy anguish to cloud my rationality, bringing me to the brink of collapse and extinguishing my hopes that everything was all right.

I would rain blood on anyone who had hurt my Daemon.

Furthermore, I put my hand on the hilt of the Heart of Fire for emotional balance and walked faster to catch up with Uncle Corlys.

The only sounds that filled the surrounding scenery were the soles of my boots crunching on the damp sand, the slight rustle of the armor caused by walking quickly and steadily, the breaking waves, and the seagulls flying over the sea. The near-silence was very uncomfortable. If I hadn't seen and taken part in the brief battle on the shores of Stepstones, I might have believed that the island didn't have two armies fighting bloody and deadly battles because the scenery looked so peaceful.

The spot just below my shoulder ached again.

My anxiety increased even more the moment the two of us left the beach, climbed up some slightly slippery rocks, and the camp entered my field of vision. The few men present looked at me with a mixture of surprise, suspicion, and interest. It wasn't as if every day I, the Crown Princess of the Iron Throne, the Delight of the Realm, appeared in front of them wearing armor, with a sword hanging from my waist, and walking with a confident air in my upright posture that I had acquired after years of dealing with the snakes that crawled at my feet in the Red Keep.

One of the rules that Princess Rhaenys Targaryen taught me was to always keep my chin up, my expression soft, and my posture erect in situations where I would be tested, observed, and spoken to as soon as I turned my back.

''We've reached Daemon's tent, Rhaenyra.'' Corlys' husky, serious voice brought me back to reality. ''Before you go in, I need to...''

However, Corlys was interrupted by a loud, unrestrained grunt coming from inside the same tent. I hissed in pain and gasped softly as the site of the invisible wound began to hurt more this time. Before either of us could say anything, an anguished cry cut through the brief silence.

''Hang in there, Prince Daemon!'' Someone called out urgently from inside the tent. ''Damn, he's really strong!''

The following events became a blur for me as I began to act on automatic. For a brief moment, I realized that I had taken my sword from my waist, walked blindly into the tent, and was about to cut off the heads of the men trying to pin my kepus to the bed when a voice exploded around us.

''Stop, Rhaneyra!'' shouted Uncle Corlys. ''They're trying to save Daemon's life! By the gods, don't kill anyone, child!''

The sword fell from my hand, and I felt as if my whole world had been destroyed when I saw the state of Daemon, who was lying on his bed.

♛

Notes:

Daemon is wounded and Rhaneyra will take revenge on the pirates. She won't let her uncle's assassination attempt go unpunished.

Is anyone enjoying the interaction between Rhaenyra, Syrax and Tennebris? I particularly love all three of them. Tennebris and Caraxes are not going to like each other.

See you soon!

Chapter 10: Chapter 7.

Notes:

Crawling out of the hole I was in, I'M BACK, LITTLE DRAGONS!

Is anyone still here?

I don't remember saying this before, but here we go: I don't watch the series or read the books, BUT I've been reading a lot of fanfiction for almost a year. I know everything that's going to happen, the tragic events, from HOTD. A lot of what I write comes from my mind, although I also search Uncle Google, and I'd like to read it in someone else's fanfiction. I ask for a little patience and understanding if I make any mistakes on any subject.

What I can assure you will never be lacking here, in The Dragon Princess, is a lot of Daemyra romance, them being extremely possessive of each other and acting like the mated dragons they are.

Now, without further ado, happy reading!

♛

Chapter 7.

“My blood begged for revenge on those who dared to hurt my kepus."

Stepstones, 113 A.D.

There are still those who whisper that some Targaryens may be born mad or end up going mad at some point in their lives for some reason. Others also claim that madness arose because of our customs of incest, when a brother marries a sister, an uncle marries a niece, or an aunt marries a nephew. Or even because of the bond we create with the monstrous, deadly, fire-breathing beasts that take us to the skies and make us closer to the gods than to men.

But could anyone other than the Targaryen's have gone mad at some point in their lives?

After my mother's murder, I started to hear the same voice inside my head frequently, so I began to think that I was cursed and going mad because of it. Until I realized that it wasn't madness that was overwhelming me, but something—someone, someone in fact, who was helping me, guiding me through the sea of snakes that had become my own home in the Red Keep over the last four years.

However, the moment my gaze fell on Daemon and the state he was in, the worst almost overwhelmed me completely. I was one step away from giving in to my own family's insanity and carrying out a massacre with my two dragons, regardless of whether they were allies or enemies who stood in our path of fire and blood.

My blood begged for revenge against those who dared to harm my kepus.

Seeing him lying as if he were really dead on the bed of his tent also awakened a fear I had never felt before, causing a cruel and invisible despair to drive its sharp claws into my guts and twist them without a shred of mercy. It was also as if part of me was freezing with part of the North. In the midst of the extreme dread of losing him, fury and a thirst for revenge were about to blind me, and my rationality was almost reduced to dust.

Outside, Syrax and Tennebris roared so loudly that they seemed to shake the whole island.

''Please help me get him to drink the tea!'' asked the healer in an urgent voice. The men surrounded the bed and tried to hold my uncle down by his arms and legs, while he struggled like a furious bull and grunted, despite having his lips clenched in pain. ''Shit!'' The man cursed as he tried to open Daemon's mouth, and half the liquid was wasted.

Although I wanted to cry and give in to the despair of seeing Daemon like this, I acted on pure instinct. Without any delicacy, I pushed aside a man who was holding him by the right arm and climbed onto the bed, oblivious to the fact that I was still wearing the armor. I managed to sit down on the makeshift pillow and hold the kepus's head in my lap. As if recognizing my touch, Daemon gradually stopped struggling, calmed down, and fell silent when my hands grasped his flushed, feverish cheeks.

''Love?'' I whispered with my voice almost stuck in my throat and tears in my eyes. I took a deep breath because I needed to stay calm and get him to drink the herbal tea. ''You need to drink the tea your healer made, please.'' I continued in high Valyrian.

''Little... dragon?'' His voice came out so weak, slurred, and devoid of the arrogance I knew so well. By the gods, I had to take another deep breath to hold back the tears, and I smiled weakly, shaking my head at him. ''What are you doing... here?'' He tried to sit up, but groaned loudly in pain.

I held his face tighter and whispered an order:

''Don't move, kepus.'' A few more tears ran down my cheeks. ''Now, I need you to drink this tea and rest.'' I forced a smile and continued when I realized he was about to protest: ''When you wake up, I'll be right next to you, and we'll talk, okay?''

Daemon agreed with a grunt of pain and drank the rest of his tea. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, although his expression conveyed a lot of discomfort, and he was still in a cold sweat. My mind was full of questions, and everything seemed to get worse as soon as I noticed the wound covered with a paste of aromatic herbs on the left side of his body. My uncle was injured on his shoulder. Instinctively, my hand covered the same spot on myself.

Could the inexplicable pain I had felt earlier be linked to the fact that Daemon had been injured? If so, how could that be?

I had to swallow a bitter laugh as the questions came to mind, because now almost anything was possible, in my opinion. If I could speak and be answered mentally by two dragons, why would it be impossible for there to be some kind of magical connection between me and my kepus? I had to shake my head to keep from being consumed by a sea of questions and concentrate on stroking my uncle's silver strands.

It was a critical moment to have answers and not dwell on possibilities.

''What happened to Prince Daemon?'' I asked no one in particular in the tent, although I wanted an immediate answer. I continued to stroke his disheveled hair, dirty and wet with sweat. ''How had he been wounded? Was he on the battlefield without his armor?''

It was such a stupid question to ask out loud. Daemon was arrogant, a great warrior, and very confident in his fighting and defense skills, so I couldn't imagine him going out onto the battlefield without his armor. As well as being very foolish, it was an act of suicide.

''The prince was hit by an arrow, princess.'' The healer's hesitant voice made me raise my head and look at him with a frown. ''A damned pirate from the Crab Feeder army managed to hit Prince Daemon at point-blank range with an arrow, which managed to pierce his armor and wound him in the shoulder.'' The man's expression darkened as he continued to explain: ''And there was poison on the tip.''

My fingers froze between the silver wires, and my gaze turned to the wound.

''Poison?'' I repeated the word, which left an ashy taste in my mouth. ''What kind of poison? Is Daemon out of danger because of the tea you gave him?'' I asked, my heart racing and my palms damp with nervousness. Another wave of panic at having lost him began to cloud my senses. ''Is there anything I can do to help?''

The healer approached the bed and looked at me intensely. I wanted to scream at the poor man in the brief seconds it took him to answer me.

''To be honest, Princess, the Prince is still at risk.'' His worried gaze fell on my uncle, who was still burning up with fever and breaking out in a cold sweat. He licked his lips and continued in an urgent tone, ''He was poisoned by a plant called the Lady of the Night. The tea we gave Daemon delayed the symptoms caused, which were the future total paralysis of his body and a painful death from internal bleeding a few hours later.''

For the second time in one day, the world seemed to crumble beneath my feet. I had to fight hard against myself to keep the rest of me calm and not allow despair to cloud my senses.

''And the... antidote?'' I stammered, with tears stuck in my throat and hatred for the person who poisoned him boiling in my blood. ''There is an antidote, right?'' I asked him, almost voicelessly.

He hastened to shake his head.

''Yes, princess. The herbs I need for the antidote are in the palace of the Prince of Pentos, who is a friend of your uncle.''

A plan began to formulate in my mind, so I wiped away the tears that were flowing, propped Daemon's head on the pillow, and dragged myself out of bed. I was already on my feet and about to grab the list of herbs the healer needed when a groan of pain sounded in my back.

''Ny-yra...'' He stirred again in his sleep. I kneeled beside Daemon and took his hand in mine. He opened his eyes in short intervals, looking at me in silent supplication. ''Don't... go... please.''

The tears flowed uncontrollably, and I sobbed softly. I wanted so much to be able to hold him tightly, take away the pain that was consuming him and putting his life at risk, tell him how much I loved him, and whisper in his ear that nothing and no one would ever separate us again. But all I could do was pray to our gods and go in search of the herbs.

''Ah, kepus...'' I put my hand on his feverish cheek as he closed his eyes again and moaned softly. My heart sank even deeper into sadness and anger. ''I'm so sorry.'' I kissed his forehead and promised in a hoarse whisper, ''I swear to you, my love, that everyone will regret hurting you.''

I had to go to Pentos, but I couldn't leave him now.

''I'll go to Pentos and come back, cousin.' Laenor's serious, determined voice filled the brief silence in the tent. Still kneeling on the ground, I turned my head towards him and gave him a grateful smile. ''Seasmoke is fast, so I promise I won't be long.'' His posture was tense, and he seemed as upset to see Daemon like that as I was.

I shook my head, the feeling of gratitude mixing with sadness and hatred.

''Thank you, cousin.'' I mumbled, almost without a voice.

Laenor was about to answer me, but a small commotion started outside the tent, distracting us. I frowned as I recognized Uncle Corlys' voice arguing with another man. Laenor took a deep breath and left. I kissed Daemon's forehead again, muttered a promise that I wouldn't go too far, and got up to see what was going on.

''Why is she still here, Corlys?'' the man asked angrily. I could hear a few shy whispers of agreement. ''A battlefield is no place for a woman to be.''

The previous anger began to boil in my veins again when I pulled aside the tent curtain and watched the two men arguing. Uncle Corlys looked at his brother without patience and seemed about to punch him.

''Because neither she nor I owe you any explanations, brother.'' Corlys replied angrily.

Although the two of them hadn't noticed me yet, the other men present saw me and widened their eyes a little.

''They're talking about me without my presence, is that it?'' I crossed my arms and gave a slight smile, although I was boiling with disgust inside. ''Perhaps you should be more concerned about the health of my uncle, the prince who fights alongside everyone else, than arguing about whether I should be on a battlefield because I'm a woman and don't have a bloody stick between my legs.'' I stared at the man with a cold, contemptuous gaze.

My words caused more shock than indignation in those present, but I only cared about Daemon and his health. It wasn't at all surprising to find a man, or several, making fun of me just because I was a woman. Riding a dragon and knowing how to handle a sword much better than many knights? That only increased the reasons for the veiled mockery, the looks of disdain, and the judgment. Being a princess and future queen ruler? Everything seemed to be doubled when I turned my back.

''Laenor, you will go to the Prince of Pentos and he...'' I pointed to the healer's assistant, with a firm look at my cousin. There was no time to lose, as long as the clock was ticking and Daemon's life was at risk. ''Well, he'll go with you so that everything turns out as the healer asked.''

Laenor shook his head, but his uncle couldn't keep quiet for long.

''And by what authority do you think you can be in charge here, Crown Princess?'' Vaemond Velaryon barked with a mocking tone at the mention of my royal title. ''We're not in King's Landing, so no one here is your servant for you to...''

The rest of the words died on the tip of his snake tongue as the point of my sword pressed into his neck and a crimson liquid oozed out. The brave man's eyes widened, and he swallowed as I increased the size of the cut.

''Lord Vaemond...'' I muttered his name dismissively and gave him a brief, mischievous smile. ''I think you should know that a sword with a Valyrian blade has an impeccable, clean cut, so I suggest that if you want to keep your head, you shut up right now.'' I moved the sword away and wiped the dirty edge of his blood on his own tunic. ''Or you'll see for yourself that Fire Heart is just as good as Dark Sister.''

Vaemond's scowl grew deeper and more severe with my words. He wrinkled his thick eyebrows, clenched his jaw, and pursed his lips in a straight line. Wisely, he shut up, snorted loudly, and stormed off as if I had kicked him in the balls. With a sigh of relief, I watched him disappear between the men and the other stalls.

''Does anyone else here have a particular problem with me, apart from the fact that I don't have a bloody penis between my legs, and I'm a princess?'' I asked the other men present sternly. Their heads nodded negatively, and I gave them a falsely sweet smile. ''Glad to know I'm welcome here, knights.'' I muttered with a strong tone of mockery in my voice.

Laenor disguised a laugh with a loud cough, while Uncle Corlys raised an eyebrow and gave me a brief smile. I shrugged and was about to return to my kepus' tent when shouts filled the room. A boy, who must have been about my age, came running towards us with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. The men were already drawing their swords as he tried to catch his breath and gestured towards the sea without stopping.

''What is it, boy?'' Uncle Corlys grabbed the boy by the shoulders, almost shaking him. ''Speak up!'' He demanded loudly.

The boy's eyes widened, and he mumbled a few incoherent words.

''Ships...'' He gestured towards the sea again. I looked in the same direction and smiled as I recognized the ships appearing on the horizon. ''We saw ships approaching, Lord Corlys, but we don't know if they belong to the pirates.'' He muttered in a single breath.

Before chaos reigned again, I hastened to intervene.

''They're not pirate ships, Uncle Corlys.'' I muttered, and his eyes turned to me with surprise and suspicion. I restrained the urge to roll my eyes, and a headache was coming on in my left temple. ''Before I came here, I managed to gather supplies in Dragonstone on my ships available on the Isle, and Lord Baratheon also sent some men here.''

The men began to exchange glances, while Laenor frowned and Uncle Corlys looked very surprised.

“Cousin, we received a letter from King's Landing earlier today... Laenor licked her lips and quickly exchanged a cautious glance with her father. “Well, the Crown said they couldn't help us at all.”

When he said the Crown, I thought it was Otto's worm that had sent the message with the reply asking for help. The King made a point of not opening any letters from the Stepstones and left everything in the hands of his faithful servant to sort out on his behalf.

I gave a wry smile.

''The help that is coming is just a partnership between Lord Baratheon, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon, and me.'' I turned to the men and adopted a softer tone. ''I just want to bring a little hope and the basics to you, who have fought so bravely for the last two years. I know that I'm not welcome and that I'm viewed with a lot of suspicion for being a woman and a princess of the Seven Kingdoms, but I just wish that this war would end soon and that you could return safely to your families and homes.''

There was a brief moment of silence, and then I began to feel nervous about the looks they were giving me. As someone who was born and raised in the king's court, I was used to being the target of countless stares. And ever since I became the first heir to the Iron Throne, it has only gotten worse. It was almost inevitable not to have someone stare at me if they knew who I really was.

I resisted the urge to twist the rings on my fingers and seek some comfort in the Valyrian steel necklace hidden under my armor.

''Long live the Dragon Princess, men!"' A man shouted and then fell to his knees in front of me. A shockwave paralyzed me, and I opened my eyes wide as the rest of the warriors also knelt. ''Long live our future Dragon Queen!''

The men repeated the first man's words, and I looked with admiration at Uncle Corlys. He had a proud smile on his face and also knelt down, standing next to Laenor.

''Long live our future Dragon Queen, my men!'' he exclaimed.

♛

It had been just over a day since I  arrived at the Stepstones and a few hours since Laenor had returned from Pentos with the antidote herbs for my kepus. Now we just had to wait for Daemon to wake up on his own, as the healer Luli had assured us would happen. Although he was out of danger and no longer in danger of dying from the poisoning, his body was still quite tired, and the wound near his shoulder would take a short time to heal completely.

When I asked how an arrow managed to pierce Daemon's armor, Uncle Corlys told me that the tip was made of the same iron as scorpion arrows, which were used to pierce the hard and powerful scales of a dragon.

''Daemon was very lucky, Rhaenyra.'' Uncle Corlys muttered the night before when he came to bring me a meal. I gripped my fork tighter and looked at his figure across the small table. The single candle, which was close to both of us, made his expression more dangerous. ''If the arrow had hit his heart, it would have been fatal.'' He grunted as his gaze fell on Daemon.

Kepus still had a fever, but the healer Luli managed to bring it down in the last few hours, while we waited for Laenor to return from Pentos.

''The Dornese are working with those damn pirates.'' Corlys looked at me again. His voice was low and equally furious. ''They managed to hit Caraxes on his wing and almost brought down my son with Seasmoke a few days ago. Now, they almost kill Daemon.''

I turned my attention away from Corlys again and looked at my uncle's figure, illuminated by the two candles I had lit around him. He was fast asleep and hadn't woken up like before. I had managed to clean his face and torso, comb his hair, and braid it loosely. At my request, Healer Luli and Uncle Corlys changed Daemon's pants for cleaner, more comfortable ones.

''They'll pay for everything, Uncle Corlys, I swear to you.'' I said it in a low, inexpressive tone. I went back to eating, although I couldn't taste the food. Furthermore, I could feel his eyes on my face. ''And let's just say that, before we arrived, I kindly asked Syrax and Tennebris to burn and destroy some ships with scorpions and pirates on board.'' I gave a brief sideways smile.

Uncle Corlys laughed briefly.

''Gently?'' He scoffed. ''From what I saw on the battlefield of your interaction with those two monstrous beasts, I can only imagine how kind you were to our enemies.''

I shrugged, still smiling.

 Kneeling beside the bed, I brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead and ran my fingertips along the smooth skin of his left temple, then reached his still slightly flushed cheek. My gaze settled on his reddened lips, slightly parted as he breathed in a regular rhythm. There was no longer any trace of pain or physical discomfort in Daemon's expression, just a slight grimace.

Daemon seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

''You need to wake up soon, love.'' I whispered in high Valyrian, my fingers barely touching his soft lips.

I swallowed with the sudden but familiar desire to know what Daemon's kiss tasted like. After I first entered a brothel and discovered what real sex was — something totally different from what the septans had taught me — I began to fantasize about what it would be like to feel him so intimately — the sensation of his bare skin against mine at the height of physical passion — for him to claim me as his own.

''I have so much to tell you and talk about.'' I sat up and rested my chin on the bed, still looking at him. ''You had to see Otto's face when he found out that I had persuaded Viserys to annul his marriage to Rhea while he was in the Oldtown, kepus.'' I laughed at the sweet, tasty memory.

It was at the first and last meeting of the Small Council that I attended between my return from the Vale and my departure for Dragonstone. On the day in question, Lord Lyonel asked aloud how “my visit” to the Vale had been, and I had the immense pleasure of replying that it had been a lovely few days in the company of my cousin Jeyne, including how pleased Lady Rhea Royce had been when I had taken the annulment of her marriage to Daemon into her own hands.

At first, Otto stared at me with slightly wide eyes. In response, I gave him a mischievous smile and raised an eyebrow in silent defiance. The worm's face started to turn very red, and I wished that he would fall hard to the ground in anger, which unfortunately he didn't. Before he could open his mouth, Otto's eyes went wide. Before he could open his mouth and start protesting against his beloved king, I interrupted him by asking Viserys how the kingdom was doing in my absence.

''Cousin?'' Laenor appeared at the entrance to the tent, almost out of breath. A little startled by his sudden appearance, I stared at him. ''Rhaenyra...'' The boy looked a little pale.

I immediately got up and went to get my sword, as we could only be under a surprise attack in the middle of the night. I found the Fire Heart in its sheath on the table, with my armor on the floor.

''The pirates aren't attacking us, cousin.''

I froze instantly and turned my head to face him, my forehead wrinkled with confusion.

''No?''

Laenor swallowed it and hastily denied it.

''No, princess.'' He murmured and took a deep breath. ''We have received word that Crabfeeder and his pirates are celebrating the possible deaths of Daemon and Caraxes, as both have not been seen for the last two days. Now, they are confident that they can massacre us since the dreaded Warrior Prince and his monstrous beast have been successfully slaughtered.''

The rage that had lain dormant in my chest for the last day began to awaken like a dragon and boil my blood with great speed, but silently. With a calm I didn't possess, I put on my boots, hung my sword at my waist, and put on a heavy cloak. I approached Daemon and touched his hair.

''I have to leave soon, but I'll be back soon, Uncle.'' I kissed his forehead.

I passed a confused Laenor and a cool evening breeze welcomed me outside. The men, who were around some fires having dinner and chatting, raised their heads and waved at me as I passed them. I waved back, with my cousin still at my heels.

''Where are you going, princess?'' he murmured at last. Some men approached us. ''Cousin, you're not going to do what I'm thinking, are you?'' He asked in a mixture of concern and confusion.

Laenor's response was Syrax and Tennebris landing behind me with a deafening noise. I didn't even have to call out to them, all I had to do was think about what we were going to do, and they both appeared.

“Finally, a bit of fun.’’ Tennebris' slightly excited voice sounded in my head.

Syrax let out a cry of agreement and lowered her wing so that I could climb onto the saddle attached to her. Ever since she found out that Daemon and his beloved Caraxes had been wounded, my golden lady has been furious and eager to burn some damn pirates.

''If you're asking me if we're going to burn the same bastards who are celebrating Daemon's near-death and Caraxes' injury right now, then the answer is yes, cousin.'' I said it coldly as I sat down in Syrax's saddle. ''You and Seasmoke stay in camp, Laenor.'' I continued when I realized his intention, leaving no room for discussion. ''Fly, Syrax, Tennebris!’’

Anger and the desire for revenge led me to take only my sword, without putting on any armor, and set off with my two dragons to the enemy's camp for a little reckoning.

Maybe the whispers weren't so wrong when they talked about the insanity of the Targaryen family, and I really was going mad.

♛

Notes:

I hate Vaemond Velaryon and I loved Nyra putting him in his place.

In the next chapter, the wonder trio (Nyra, Tennebris and Syrax) will cause chaos and burn some sons of bitches on the neighboring island.

See you there!

Chapter 11: Chapter 8.

Notes:

Uh uh uh uh Mommy's home...

Little dragons, let's read about the wonder trio burning the pirates and the real reunion between Nyra and Daemon?

P.S. if you're Brazilian like me, this same story is posted on Wattpad in Portuguese and with more chapters.

link:https://www.wattpad.com/story/371969226?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=DeusaBastet

♛

Chapter 8.

“In the chaos we caused, only the three of us remained standing."

Stepstones, 113 A.D.

The new moon was the main witness to the sea of fire that descended from the sky, completely black and without a single star present in the immensity above us, like a terrible and deadly deluge. Not a drop of rain touched the ground, but it was the synchronized flames of Syrax and Tennebris that turned the entire sandy coast into what seemed like hell itself in the land of Balerion.

I watched with a certain sick fascination and satisfaction as the flames consumed the same damned people who were celebrating the near-death of my kepus.

The place — where the pirates gathered around the bonfires as they ate, drank, and celebrated the “death” of the Warrior Prince and his monstrous beast — was now just a scene of charred bodies, ash, and destruction. The strong smell of the sea mixed with the smell of smoke, burnt flesh, sulfur, and the purest, truest terror that could consume a man.

They made two dragons bleed, and then they would pay with their miserable lives.

In a world of powers and ambitious games, only the strongest and most intelligent would have the best chance of surviving the end of each day.

''Dracarys, Syrax.'' My whisper sounded almost inaudible, even to myself, but my golden lady heard me very well, and her flames engulfed the fleeing men.

In order not to be seen in front of our targets, we flew higher than the dark clouds and dived towards the ground, with Syrax and Tennebris side by side in a perfectly synchronized movement. The wind hummed loudly in my ears as we flew towards them, the constant, loud flapping of the two dragons' wings finally catching the men's attention.

Not all the hatred I had built up for Viserys, Otto, and Diana over the last four years could compare to what I felt when I saw how the pirates were celebrating the near deaths of Daemon and Caraxes.

For a few moments, my vision was blurred by mortal fury, and my blood was so hot in my veins that it felt like it belonged to Syrax. I wanted everyone's head, especially Crabfeeder, to be driven into a stake at the edge of the beach as an explicit warning of what would happen if you hurt a Prince of the Dragon House.

My cry of hatred echoed through the night and was accompanied by the furious roars of Syrax and Tennebris.

The bravest and equally foolish pirates tried to shoot arrows in our direction, only to be easily burned, crushed, or swallowed in a single bite by the great green-eyed black dragon. In the sky, the cold, strong wind blew my long, loose hair back like a silver cape, while Syrax rained down fire and let out terrifying roars.

Just as I felt for Daemon, my golden lady was very angry and vengeful with the bastards who had hurt the Bloody Worm.

''Dracarys, Tennebris!''

Tennebris landed at the entrance to the same mountain that the pirates and Crabfeeder himself used as a hiding place, made a loud noise, turned his black head with its magnificent pointed horns forward, and let out a chilling roar. The torrent of green flames swept away all the fools running in that direction, leaving behind only the black ground and the smell of burning flesh. Others, seeing that they couldn't hide in the caves or foolishly behind a rock, ran towards the sea, screaming in desperation and begging for mercy.

Tennebris didn't allow any of them to put a single foot in the water.

Sitting on Syrax's back, still in the sky, I cracked a mischievous smile and felt a deep surge of pride for the ill-tempered dragon.

''The scorpions are being aimed at Tennebris' back, Syrax!'' I shouted as I saw some pirates climbing to the top of the mountain and pointing three heavy guns at the black dragon. Tennebris was still on the ground, burning the few who were still standing and trying to save their lives. ''Dracarys, Syrax!''

I gripped the chains tighter, and the cold wind blew my hair back as Syrax plunged towards the pirates, letting out a furious cry. Two pirates tried to swing the heavy weapon in our direction, but the flames consumed them first and the others, who were a little further away.

In the chaos we had caused, only the three of us remained standing.

Majestically, Syrax landed on top of the same mountain as a queen sitting on her throne. After her sharp claws dug into the rocks with ease, she spread her beautiful wings to the sides, raised her head to the sky, and let out the loudest, most imposing roar I've ever heard coming from her. My smile widened, and my pride in my golden lady only increased.

From the ground, Tennebris also raised her head to the sky and launched a blast of green fire into the air.

''Let's go!''

Syrax shouted in agreement and took off, being propelled upwards by her long, strong legs. Tennebris came after us next, as mentally silent as she was. Unlike our short trip to pay a little visit to the pirates, when feelings of hatred and revenge were mixed and intensified by the bond shared with the two dragons, our journey back was going smoothly.

With my eyes closed and my heart much lighter, a brief smile appeared on my lips.

It was the first time since stepping on the Stepstones that I had allowed myself to relax a little and breathe a sigh of relief. And it was also at the moment when we were flying close to the water and the cold wind wrapped around me like a hug that the first tears began to silently stream down my face. I didn't try to hold back the sobs that seemed to come from the depths of my broken soul and mingled with the sound of the churning sea and the constant flapping of the dragons' wings.

I just held the chains in my trembling hands and wept silently.

Something inside me had finally broken and had to be thrown away.

Ever since Syrax burned the pyre with my mother's body and the tiny body of my younger brother, there have been very few times when I have allowed myself to cry, to let my weakness come to the surface, and to scramble my emotions.

At 12 days old, I learned that hardly anyone could see my tears and know that my heart was wounded, because in the world I was raised in, there would always be a snake lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike and take me down. Keeping my guard up at all times, not being able to trust my own shadow when I was in the Red Keep, and fighting to survive in such a cruel world were too exhausting.

And I was very exhausted.

Syrax let out a low, sad cry, feeling the sadness in my heart. I gave a small smile, stretched out my arm, and ran my palm without the leather glove over her neck, feeling how overheated her rough golden scales were compared to my own temperature. My little girl let out another low cry and sent me a wave of tenderness and love, which was like a balm for my soul.

Tennebris remained silent, but I sensed that he was proud of me for leading our attack against the enemy.

''Thank you, my dears.'' I whispered, with a lighter heart.

It didn't take long for us to reach the camp, but I was surprised to see my cousin still waiting for me. He stood up when we landed on the wide strip of sand and even took a couple of steps towards us, but gave up when Tennebris turned his head towards him and stared at him with a single emerald green eye. I laughed softly and climbed down from the Syrax.

''I'm glad you're here, Rhaenyra.'' Laenor murmured.

Before turning to my cousin, I kissed my golden lady's neck and smiled openly at Tennebris. The grumpy black dragon let out a sort of snort, but I didn't sense any wave of disdain coming from him. He even seemed a little shy. Then they flew off into the sky, and each went to its own makeshift nest. Tennebris was a little further away from the camp, in a small clearing that was barely big enough for his size. Syrax, for her part, was sleeping next to Caraxes, unable to leave Bloodworm alone while he recovered from his wing injury.

The red dragon seemed to be very happy and satisfied with the presence of my golden lady, as he emitted low clicks and almost purred like a kitten next to her.

''What is it, cousin?'' I asked, frowning slightly, walking towards him with slow steps. Laenor looked a little pale, and her purple eyes were slightly wide. ''Laenor, what happened while I was away?'' I insisted when he only muttered a few incomprehensible words.

He swallowed, ran his hands through his silver hair, and stammered with a nervous tone:

''Cousin, Daemon's awake.''

My smile was huge, and a wave of relief mixed with joy washed over me. However, the way he was still looking at me, as if he had seen a ghost, told me that there was bad news on the way too.

''And what else?'' I encouraged him.

The boy seemed to pale more and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the camp, more specifically in the direction of my kepus' tent. He looked at me again and gave me a tense smile.

''And he's very angry and would have gone after you if Caraxes hadn't hurt his wing.''

I sighed loudly and ran my hands through my hair.

''Why did I go and burn some pirates?'' I asked, already knowing the answer. Laenor nodded in agreement. ''Fuck!''

Obviously, I wanted Daemon to wake up soon, but I thought that would give me time to visit the next island, burn some bastards, and come back. A thousand times, damn it! In fact, at the moment when rage overwhelmed me and insanity obscured my coherent thoughts, all I could think about was taking revenge by raining fire down on everyone who had celebrated the “death” of my uncle and the Caraxes.

''Cousin is very angry with you, Nyra.''

I didn't answer him and forced my suddenly shaky legs up the rocks. I crossed the camp with quick steps, even though I wanted to sleep next to Tennebris that night, and shook my head at some of the men who greeted me along the way. Laenor hadn't come with me, and I didn't know whether it was better or worse to face the great, evil dragon alone.

''Shit...'' I sighed and put my hand on the hilt of the Heart Fire in search of a little courage. ''Where's your courage now, Rhaenyra?'' I sighed heavily, grimacing.

In all my life, I have never felt afraid of my uncle. On the contrary, Daemon has always provided me with affection, security, well-being, respect, love, comfort, joy, and family warmth. These feelings I only felt in Aunt Rhaenys' arms and in Aemma's on the rare occasions when she could just be my mother and not a breeding mare in the hands of King Viserys in his almost endless search for the male heir to the Iron Throne.

Well, what now?

The thought of facing the fury of Daemon, who I knew was waiting for me inside the tent, was neither pleasant nor did it encourage me to finally enter. Those were the rare times when the kepus scolded me or got angry with me. He was always more inclined to spoil me, to give me beautiful and expensive presents, to teach me how to handle a sword, to read High Valyrian, to play with me, and to fulfill almost every wish of his eldest niece.

For this reason, Viserys always grimaced and found a futile “reason” to exile my uncle.

Now, probably, the fact that I left the Royal Court without the king's permission, rode a wild dragon, appeared by surprise on a battlefield during a bloody war, and then went to visit the pirates on the neighboring island, without armor and with only a sword strapped to my waist, with two dragons with escorts to avenge me, made him a little upset and angry with me.

In other words, I did exactly what Daemon would have done if he had been in my place.

But how do you make him see the obvious?

I forced a slightly shaky smile and pulled the curtain away from the door, entering the tent with calm, silent steps. With a little caution, I walked around the space while my gaze scanned the corners in search of him. I frowned when I saw his empty bed and no sign of him nearby. I touched the slightly hard mattress and felt that the sheet was cold.

Where could he be?

I was about to call out for Kepus when I heard a soft movement behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end in response. I didn't have to turn around immediately to make sure he was watching me, because I could feel the ferocity and depth of his purple eyes all over my body. His heavy, angry breathing sounded loud in the uncomfortable stillness that reigned over us, although it seemed that mine had gotten stuck in my throat.

I swallowed, my heart racing and the blood running hotter through my veins. There was also a warm, pleasurable sensation spreading through my stomach. Apart from the nervousness of facing his fury, there was something else boiling inside me.

For the Goddess Syrax!

''Imagine my surprise when I wake up and discover that my eldest niece, the Crown Princess of the Iron Throne, is actually on the Stepstones, right in the middle of the battlefield in a war.'' He was the first to break the tense silence. His tone was low, harsh, and angry. ''Now, can you imagine that this same princess went out alone with two dragons, one of which was completely wild and known for its eating habits, to burn some pirates in the middle of the night without any damn armor?'' He asked with an angry grunt.

Two years.

Two years without hearing his voice, a single whisper coming from his lips, just a few words exchanged between the two of us through letters and information from the Black Canary. I spent a long time without seeing him, without being able to feel the security that his hugs always gave me, the warmth and affection of his eyes, the rare sound of his real laugh, and the magnetic power that his smile possessed.

Although he was fine now and out of danger, I was very close to losing him forever.

''Ah, Daemon...'' I whispered, my eyes blurred by thick tears, in high Valyrian. I crossed the short distance that separated us and stopped in front of him, just a few centimeters away. ''Kepus...'' My hands were shaking. ''I was so scared, Uncle.'' I sobbed softly, despair rising up and muffling my voice. ''Very much so.'' I started sobbing again.

The glint of anger in his eyes softened dramatically and gave way to a strong concern. Daemon closed the small distance between us and held my face between his large, rough hands. I rubbed my cheek against his warm touch, and the tears rolled freely.

''Rhaenyra...'' His voice was terrified and shaky. ''Are you hurt?''

I wrapped my fingers in the fabric of his old tunic, holding it in place, just as Daemon was about to turn away from me, and I hastened to shake my head in the negative.

''No, Uncle.'' I swallowed back another wave of tears. He wrinkled his forehead a little and gave me a suspicious look. ''I'm fine, just a few strands out of place, smelling like a dragon and dirty with soot.'' I joked and realized I'd gone the wrong way, as he began to frown again. ''I was afraid of losing you, Uncle.'' I pulled his tunic tighter.

My kepus' frown softened again, and his calloused fingers dried some of the tears that were still flowing.

''My princess…'' Daemon whispered and leaned his forehead against mine. ''You'll never lose your old uncle here.'' He promised hoarsely, and his arms wrapped me in a tight embrace. ''I'm too stubborn to let you get rid of me so easily.'' He added it with a small laugh.

I would have liked to believe his words, but I saw, with my own eyes, death circling him like a vulture and his enemies celebrating.

He really could have died.

''Daemon?'' I whispered, almost voicelessly. There was a new, painful tightness pulsing in my chest. ''Look at me, please.'' I asked, touching his cheek with my free hand.

Without releasing me from his arms, Daemon opened his eyes and stared at me with a disconcerting fervor. I gasped softly the moment I became the target of his beautiful purple eyes, and the warm, pleasurable feeling in my stomach became more intense. There seemed to be something magnetic in the air—a feeling of pure expectation that enveloped us and connected us just by exchanging glances. I licked my lips, and he moaned softly, which seemed to send a rush of adrenaline down my spine.

Suddenly, breathing normally became a little difficult, and my mind seemed to go blank.

''Rhaenyra...'' Daemon brushed his lips across my cheek and rested his left hand on my waist. ''My love... you're so beautiful.''

My heart seemed to skip a beat with him calling me “my love,” and my cheeks heated with pleasure at the sloppy way he looked at me. Fuck, Daemon Targaryen is mine.  His grip on my waist became more intense and possessive.

''Kepus...'' I whispered, always careful not to bump into his injured shoulder, and licked my lips again. Daemon seemed hypnotized by the simple gesture. ''Touch me...'' I bit his chin lightly. ''Please.''

My body was on fire with desire for him.

Daemon let out a hoarse grunt and slid a hand down to my ass. I moaned softly as I felt him squeeze my flesh without any shame. Suddenly, he moved us and helped me sit on the tent's small dining table, which shook with my weight. He raised an eyebrow as his wild gaze fell on the sword strapped to my waist.

''I don't suppose the king knows that it was stolen by his own heiress.'' There was a strong mocking amusement in his voice, husky with desire. ''I wonder from whom you learned to sneak into the royal vault rooms, little dragon.'' His deft fingers took a Fire Heart from my waist, and he placed the ancient sword on the chair next to it. ''I also saw that Queen Visenya's armor had come for a visit.''

I shrugged and successfully ignored the warning implicit in his words. I gave him a mischievous smile and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. My arousal increased when I felt him so hard and throbbing, just covered by the thin fabric of his pants.

''Fuck, Daemon!'' I grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth to mine, but I didn't kiss him. ''Tomorrow, you'll give your speech about how I shouldn't be here, to have stolen the king's idiot or ridden a wild dragon, but right now I demand that you kiss me.''

He laughed hoarsely, held my face between his hands, and gave me a wicked smile that made the hairs on my arms stand up. I couldn't help myself, and I broke into a smile that mirrored his.

''Do you know that if I kiss you now, I will claim you as my own and kill anyone who dreams of possessing you, Rhaenyra?'' Daemon slid his right hand into the loose strands at the nape of my neck, curling them between his fingers and tugging them a little too hard. I closed my eyes and moaned softly. ''I asked you a question, and I want an answer, little dragon.'' He demanded possessively.

My mind was confused, and the words simply disappeared from the tip of my tongue with his touch. Daemon dragged his warm lips across the sensitive skin of my neck in soft kisses and bit my jugular, eliciting a muffled cry from me. He let out a wicked laugh and licked the same spot. I had to hold on to his hair because it wouldn't be long before I fell off the table.

''I still want an answer, little dragon.'' Daemon cracked a wicked smile, his voice dripping with possessiveness and dirty promises. ''If I kiss you now, you'll only be mine, Rhaneyra.''

I gasped and pulled his hair too, not caring if it hurt. Daemon grunted, and my mischievous smile widened.

''Ah, kepus!'' I whispered, not looking away from his eyes, clouded with desire. ''Why would I want someone else when I can marry you? The man I chose to be my husband, future king consort, and father of my children?'' I nibbled my lower lip as shock crossed his face. ''Dragons are selfish and possessive creatures, and I am a dragon, and I will never share my man with anyone.''

Daemon smiled.

''Little dragon…''

I didn't let my uncle say any more and pulled his head towards me, eliminating the small space between us. His mouth crashed into mine with a certain violence and a lot of excitement, his right hand gripped the base of my neck, and his left hand squeezed my thigh. With my legs still wrapped around his waist, I pulled him closer and dug my nails into the back of his neck, making him grunt against me. I smiled slightly, and his tongue slid into my mouth.

We continued kissing for a long time, our hands roaming each other's bodies, and we had to hold back loud moans so as not to attract the attention of anyone outside the tent.

''Gods…'' He gasped loudly when we broke the kiss, and he leaned his forehead against mine. I laughed softly, my breathing and hair just as messy. ''You really are a delight, Rhaenyra.''

I blushed with pure vanity at the compliment and pulled away to look him in the face. Daemon's silver hair was disheveled, his lips were moist and swollen, his eyes were still dilated, and his breathing was a little difficult. I didn't even have to look in the mirror to know that my state was similar to his.

''And all yours, uncle.'' I murmured with a smile, and my gaze shifted to his tunic, where there was a small red stain almost at shoulder height. I frowned and touched the damp fabric with my fingertips. ''Did I hurt you, Daemon?''

He looked at the bloodstained tunic, frowned, and then denied it.

''No, princess.''

I sighed and got up from the table, my legs a little shaky. I took his hand, pulled him towards the bed, and made him sit on the edge.

''Take it off, please!'' I asked and went to get one of the bottles from the table next to the bed. ''I'm going to clean the wound and apply the herbal paste that the healer Luli prepared for you, uncle.'' I explained, turning around, and my eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest.

Holy shit!

The bastard raised an eyebrow, and an amused, mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

''What's the matter, little dragon?'' He asked, falsely innocent.

Goddess Syrax help me!

♛

Notes:

Well, Rhaenyra claimed Daemon, and Daemon claimed Rhaenyra. Are they possessive and jealous dragons? I LOVE THAT!

Guys, please, can you tell me some songs that go with Daemon and Rhaenyra?

See you next time!

Chapter 12: Chapter 9.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! I'm back sooner than you expected, I imagine.

Well, without further ado, the chapter is in Daemon's p.o.v. and the italicized dialogues are in “High Valyrian”.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 9.

“Possessiveness pulsed through my veins like something new, hot and dangerous."

Stepstones, 113 A.D.

For Daemon Targaryen.

I woke up the next morning with a confused mind and still very sleepy, despite having had an unexpectedly good night's sleep and feeling well rested. Since arriving at the Stepstones two years ago, it had been a long time since I had known what it was like to lay my head on the pillow and sleep for hours on end. Nights of pure insomnia or terrible nightmares became a familiar and constant occurrence in my life amid the chaos of being in a war for so long.

There was no glory in war, only despair, constant death, fear, hunger, and the uncertainty that we would survive until the next day.

When I went to Caraxes, leaving King's Landing and my niece behind, it was with the thought of accomplishing something great, of leaving my name in history for future generations of the House of the Dragon. Not only that, I wanted to be seen as something more than the Rogue Prince, the Lord of Flea Bottom, the hated younger brother of the kindly King Viserys, the second son of a second son, with no riches or lands to his name.

Although this was probably impossible to come true, I tried to cling to a flicker of hope that I could get rid of my hateful wife with an annulment. Killing her was an option, but the possibility of the blame falling on me, even if I left no clues or paid off the best assassins, was enormous. So, using my hard-won victory in a war that was about to lead the Kingdom into even greater danger was my best and possibly only chance of extricating myself from a totally unwanted marriage.

I was dragged into marrying Rhea Royce when I was 16 years old by my late grandmother, Queen Alysanne. I was never able to free myself from that horrible woman who, according to them, was to be my wife for the rest of my days. Furthermore, I wanted a Valyrian wife, as Viserys had the chance to choose three times, but I was forced to marry a sheep of the Vale.

Rhea hated me as much as I hated her.

And then there was Rhaenyra's request, which she made the day I left for war.

My sweet and stubborn niece wanted me to take her as my wife when she came of age. Her request left me perplexed and bewildered, while at the same time motivating me even more to want to win the war in order to get the damn annulment. I didn't see her as a woman, nor did I desire her as one. Rhaenyra was just my niece, a 14-year-old maiden, the same girl I held in my arms as a newborn.

I only agreed to Rhaenyra's request because I knew that my idiot brother would sell her to the highest bidder, regardless of whether she was the Heir to the Iron Throne or the future first Queen Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. The man who married my niece would see her only as a royal womb and use her as a breeding mare only to bring princes and princesses into the world. And it would be enough for the leech of the Hand and the whore Queen to start whispering in Viserys' ears.

I would bathe the Dark Sister in everyone's blood and rain fire on all the Seven Kingdoms and the lands beyond the Narrow Sea, but I would never allow my niece to suffer the same tragic fate as my good sister Aemma. She would never be cut open like an animal slaughtered in a hunt so that a damned man could have a male heir in his arms.

Rhaenyra would not suffer the same fate as Aemma because of Viserys.

And it may take another four or forty years, but I will never forget the spiteful, broken, dead look on my niece's girlish face the day she asked Syrax to burn the pyre with the bodies of her own mother and younger brother.

''My prince, are you awake yet?''

I was brought out of my cloud of thoughts by the call of the healer Luli outside my tent. I took a deep breath, turned my head to the side with the intention of waking my niece, and found the space empty. Where was she? After Rhaneyra had tended to my wound, we lay down on my bed, and she snuggled up to me, making it clear that she would set fire to me or anyone else who forced her to sleep elsewhere.

I sat up calmly and ignored the wave of pain that ran through my shoulder and chest at the sudden movement. Had she finally realized that it was madness to be in the war and returned to King's Landing? Would Rhaenyra leave without saying goodbye to me? Although part of me was relieved that she was safe and well, a strong feeling of anguish mixed with sadness settled in my throat like a stone.

Fuck!

''Prince Daemon?'' A hand landed carefully on my good shoulder, and I put the tip of the Dark Sister to the guy's throat at the same instant. ''Fuck, it's just me, my prince!'' The visitor screamed, his eyes wide and his face pale with horror. ''The healer, Luli!''

I let out an exasperated sigh and put my sword back beside the bed, then got up and started walking around the tent. A wave of calm washed over me when I realized that my niece's backpack was still stacked in the same place as yesterday. She's still here! I smiled briefly and was furious with myself at the same time. I put on a tunic to go hunting for Rhaenyra.

A war was no place for my niece to be.

''My prince?'' Luli called me again. Grudgingly, I turned to the man, who had been one of my healers for years, and raised an eyebrow. If he had been one of your assistants, I would have run out of my tent by now. ''The princess asked you to eat something and for me to check your wound before going after her when she woke up.'' He muttered, an amused smile threatening to appear on his face. ''And she added that it was an order from her future queen.''

I rolled my eyes and snorted.

''Where's the princess, Luli?'' I asked, increasingly irritated.

Luli bravely shrugged and pointed to my bed. I raised my eyebrow again and crossed my arms. Having been friends with that healer for years, he felt very comfortable with me, something that many would never dare to think of doing.

''The Dragon Princess ordered me to tell you where she's waiting for you've eaten and tended to the wound on your shoulder, my prince.'' Luli murmured, grabbing some clothes, a basin of water, and a pot. ''Now, sit down, please, Daemon!'' He gestured to the bed.

I took off my shirt and sat on the bed, getting more irritated and impatient. I wanted to see my niece soon and not waste time with nonsense. We hadn't talked yesterday, although our kisses had been very unexpected and perfect. A smile appeared on my face when I remembered last night. It had been a pleasant and exciting discovery to see how Rhaenyra fit perfectly in my arms, melted at my touches on her body, and let out little moans of pleasure.

Fuck, my niece was a sin!

A shiver ran up my back, and I had to start imagining any scene other than Rhaenyra clinging to me and panting, lest I end up getting a hard-on in front of the healer Luli.

''There was a time when you were afraid of me and obeyed me, Luli.'' I murmured, still a little distracted, to take my mind off her memory. ''And you respected me too.''

The man laughed out loud, reaching out to clean the wound on my shoulder, and replied in a very good mood:

''Yes, indeed, my prince.'' Luli shook her head. ''But I think you've lost your position as the most feared Targaryen and your niece has taken your place.'' He began to wipe my skin with a damp cloth. ''Princess Rhaenyra has already won the loyalty of almost all the men, and half of them are in love with the sight of the Delight of the Realm among us.''

I frowned.

My chest rumbled with a growl, and jealousy began to heat my blood. Who were these bastards? I was about to get up and chop off the heads of the bastards who dared to look at my niece more than twice, but Luli grabbed me by the shoulder. I looked at him angrily, and the bastard grinned openly.

''I never thought I'd live to see the Rogue Prince jealous.'' He sneered. I thought about retorting but stayed silent while he finished cleaning my shoulder. ''Listen, Daemon, as well as falling in love with the princess, these men are very grateful for the help she has brought. The ships with provisions, food, drink, and more armed men have boosted the confidence and morale of all the bastards who have fought alongside you for the last two years.''

Luli sat down next to me after applying a herbal paste and covering the wound. He then continued in an emotional and grateful tone:

''My prince, the princess even brought us barrels of wine, and now the men are just kissing the ground she walks on.'' He laughed. ''Many were still suspicious of her presence, but after she took to the skies with her two dragons and burned the pirates who were celebrating her near-death, now almost everyone just calls her the Dragon Princess.''

Although I remained silent and thoughtful, pride welled up in my chest. Rhaenyra had always acted as a princess should, and had learned to wield a sword from an early age. Viserys was obviously against it, but Aemma stood her ground and insisted that her daughter should learn to defend herself. Years later, she was a warrior and rode two dragons.

The question I had been asking myself ever since I discovered that Rhaenyra had arrived at the Stepstones with Syrax and Cannibal in tow was: how did she claim a second dragon, being completely wild and never ridden?

In the two years we were apart and communicated by sporadic letters, Black Canary and Harwin Strong told me a few things about my niece. The Harrenhal heir only praised my niece's progress in her sword and archery training. Lisye told me how Rhaenyra fought against the idiot King, the leech Hand, and some men from the Small Council to start and continue some projects, but also how the little people adored her and the respect she was gaining every day.

Besides, I suspected that there was much more hidden behind Rhaenyra's beautiful lilac eyes and sweet smile. She had always been an intelligent and astute child, and she seemed much more mature than she should have been for someone so young in her childhood. And as the years went by, and she grew up, she only became more skilled in the world we lived in.

''And after her threat to Lord Vaemond, the Princess's popularity only increased among us.'' Luli continued to chatter.

I frowned and faced him immediately. Luli had a cheerful, smiling expression.

''What did you say?''

''The day you were wounded, my prince, was also the day your niece arrived, which caused a bit of a stir among the men, but it was Lord Vaemond who wanted her to leave immediately.'' His smile widened. ''The Dragon Princess pointed a sword at his neck and threatened to cut off his head when he said that she didn't have the authority to ask Ser Laenor to go to Pentos to get the herbs I needed for the antidote.''

Although I stared at him a little incredulously, I cracked a huge smile, and my fierce dragon pride roared loudly in my chest.

Indeed, Rhaenyra has become something of a box of surprises over the last two years.

''Vaemond's cunt deserved it.'' I scoffed.

Luli agreed, stood up, and gave my good shoulder a friendly squeeze.

''I agree, my prince.'' He smiled. ''So, I recommend that you break your fast before you go to meet your niece in the Caraxes' nest.''

After eating, I quickly left the tent, as I was very anxious to see her, and walked around the camp. I kept my expression blank and my steps hurried, but that didn't stop a few men from stopping me to ask how I was feeling and to praise the presence of the Heiress to the Iron Throne, the help she had brought, and her beauty. I had to hold back a few warning growls and the desire to pull the Dark Sister on those bastards while they prattled on about my niece.

''Damn them…'' I grunted softly in Valyrian. ''I should cut off each of their penises and let Caraxes eat their bodies.''

I managed to leave the camp before cutting off the head of one of the men, and walking in the direction of where I knew Caraxes had made his nest. Rhaenyra would be in the same place, according to what the healer Luli had said. As I climbed onto some rocks, I could feel a strong wave of satisfaction coming from my dragon and heard some familiar clicks, as if he were purring like a giant cat.

Unlike his usual grumpiness and irritation, my dragon was very happy now.

I was surprised again the moment I reached the top of the mountain and saw why my boy was suddenly so happy. Curled up under Caraxes' scarlet wing, only Syrax's golden head could be seen. My dragon had curled up with my niece's golden lady, and now they were both sleeping peacefully in the warm sunshine. Had they mated? I approached, and my grumpy boy moved his head towards me to open just one eye.

I gave him a smile.

''I see you have good company, my boy.'' I murmured and reached out to touch his muzzle. Caraxes snorted, but I could feel how carefree and content he was. Syrax opened her eyes and let out a low growl at me. ''Hello, my pretty lady!''

Caraxes stroked my belly lightly and tilted his large head to the side, looking directly at my wounded shoulder. I could feel a wave of concern coming from him.

''I'm fine, my friend.'' I assured him, sincerely. Although I had felt very ill from the effects of the poison in the first few hours, now my shoulder was only a little sore and would protest if I made any sudden movements. ''Soon we'll be in heaven to burn these bastards.'' I smiled broadly and leaned my face against his long neck, then closed my eyes.

Caraxes purred in his unique way, and I could hear a very familiar laugh coming from somewhere near the three of us. I opened my eyes and saw my niece sitting on a tree branch next to us.

''How cute to see how the two grumpy old men love each other.'' She scoffed, amused. There was a huge smile on her beautiful face, and her lilac eyes sparkled with happiness. My heart skipped a beat, and my mouth went dry at the sight. ''Looks like your grumpy boy is falling in love with my golden lady, Uncle.'' She looked at our dragons.

I've also discovered that I'm falling in love with you, my sweet niece.

The words stuck in my throat, even though they were the purest truth. Two years ago, I didn't really see Rhaenyra as a woman or desire her, but last night showed me that the reality of the present was quite different and that she had become a sin on two beautiful legs.

A sin that was mine, mine alone.

''I still want an answer, princess.'' I whispered, giving a mischievous smile. Possessiveness pulsed through my veins like something new, hot, and dangerous. My mind was clouded by intense desire, and my penis throbbed with the desire to bury itself in the warm, moist folds of my sweet niece. ''If I kiss you now, you'll only be mine, Rhaenyra.'' I said it darkly.

There was nothing and no one who could separate me from Rhaenyra if she wanted me as much as I wanted her. The girl I had left in the Dragon Pit was no more, now there was a beautiful, wild, and horny woman in my arms. Fuck! My cock seemed to get harder when she gasped and pulled my hair, causing a delicious pain. I grunted, and my niece's mischievous smile widened.

''Ah, kepus…'' she whispered in high Valyrian. Her eyes were dark, her cheeks flushed, and her breathing was irregular, like mine. ''Why would I want someone else when I can marry you? The man I chose to be my husband, future king consort, and father of my children?'' Rhaenyra nibbled her lower lip as shock coursed through me. ''Dragons are selfish and possessive creatures, and I am a dragon, and I will never share my man with anyone.''

Was she still choosing me? Why was the Crown Princess really deciding on a second son with no land, riches, or castle, just a man with an ancient sword, a grumpy dragon, and a bad reputation for being a Rogue Prince?

An unexpected emotion enveloped my heart, and I had to smile.

''Little dragon…''

Rhaenyra pulled my head towards hers, and I finally kissed her, my heart overflowing with a new discovery.

I snorted loudly and felt my penis stiffen at the memory. As if she knew what was going through my head, Rhaenyra's smile turned mischievous when her gaze fell on the spot between my legs and her cheeks flushed. I gave her a broad smile, feeling a surge of pride and satisfaction at knowing that I affected her too.

''Are you enjoying something in particular, princess?'' I asked hoarsely. My cock went completely hard at the sight of her biting her lower lip. Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. ''Little dragon?'' Crossing my arms, I raised an eyebrow mischievously.

Rhaenyra's dark gaze flicked at my face, but I got no response. On the contrary, my niece smiled wider before using Caraxes' back to climb down from the tree and landing on her feet with a graceful leap. I stood motionless, watching her walk towards me and stop in front of me, her hands behind her back.

''Of course I like everything I see, kepus.'' She tilted her head to the side and licked her lips. I had to control myself very tightly not to take her in my arms and claim her as mine once again. There was still a lot to discuss between us. ''How can I not like what I see when I choose you as my future husband and King Consort?'' She raised an eyebrow.

Oh, hell!

My sweet and appetizing niece let out a startled scream the moment I pulled her against my body. She widened her eyes a little, and my smile got bigger. I didn't give Rhaenyra time to say anything else, I just buried a hand in the soft hair at the nape of her neck and leaned forward, pressing my mouth to hers.

She clung to my robe, let out a sigh of pleasure, and opened her lips for my tongue to slide across them. I kept my left hand on her back and slid my right hand down to her plump ass, where I grabbed the flesh covered by the fabric of her dress. I let out a loud sigh as she rubbed herself against my cock, and I could hear her happy giggle. Furthermore, I kissed her more enthusiastically.

''Gods…'' She sighed, clinging to me with her eyes closed.

I laughed softly and pressed my forehead against hers, still holding her against me. Our breathing was difficult, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were slightly swollen.

''Beautiful…'' I whispered, with a strong passion pulsing in my chest. ''You're beautiful, Rhaenyra.'' I tucked a loose strand behind her small ear.

She opened her eyes a little, and she smiled shyly.

''Thank you, kepus.'' She held my face between her small hands, stood on tiptoe, and kissed my lips. ''You're beautiful too, Daemon.''

As far as I could remember, it was the first time in years that I'd heard a woman compliment my appearance, other than a prostitute wanting my cock and gold. Rhaenyra's unexpected and sincere compliment brought a slight warmth to my cheeks and a huge smile to her face.

I was a 28-year-old man blushing at a damn compliment!

She touched my warm cheeks, but said nothing. Suddenly, she got serious and held my hand between her small, warm hands.

''Kepus, we have a lot to talk about.''

I sighed and shook my head.

''Yes, little dragon.''

My niece gave a small smile, held my hand tighter, and pulled me towards some rocks located under the same tree next to Caraxes and Syrax.

♛

Notes:

Nyra has barely arrived at the war and Daemon is already completely in love with her. But can we blame him? The Dragon Princess is too amazing.

What did you think of the chapter about the hottest uncle in the Seven Kingdoms? I confess that I found Daemon more difficult to write than the chapters with Rhae.
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algum br perdido nos meios dos gringos como eu?

Chapter 13: Chapter 10.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

♛

Chapter 10.

“I'll never let you go, my little dragon."

Stepstones, 113 A.D.

Before I could start turning my rings, due to the strong anxiety that overwhelmed me, Daemon gently grasped my right wrist and brought my hand to his lips, giving each of my fingers a kiss. I looked at his face and saw a slight smile on his lips, although my uncle's purple eyes were still dark and shining with a feeling that was indecipherable to me.

I could still taste our kiss, the warmth of his hands on my dress-covered skin.

Furthermore, I wanted so much more, I wanted him completely, without any piece of clothing separating his skin from touching mine.

''No need to be nervous, little dragon.'' Daemon whispered affectionately and kissed the back of my hand. I gasped softly, and a mischievous smile appeared on his handsome face. I took a deep breath, my heart racing. ''What is it, princess?''

I looked away, focusing on the sea in front of us, and felt my cheeks heat up again.

''I have a lot to tell you, but you keep distracting me, kepus.'' I muttered in a low voice.

He let out a low, amused laugh.

''It's nice to know that I distract you as much as you distract me.'' He retorted, his tone husky and sensual.

There was a war going on, snakes wanting to usurp my throne and so many enemies silently wishing for my downfall. However, in that quiet and rare moment shared with my uncle, I felt like a maiden in love in the presence of her beloved prince, and not like the future Queen Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. It was the first time in four years that I could let my guard down completely and cry without fear.

''My love?'' There was a mixture of concern and urgency in his tone. I shook my head negatively and a sob escaped through my parted lips. ''Rhaenyra? Are you feeling ill? Come on, we're going to see the healer Luli right now.''

I took Daemon by the arm when I realized he was going to get up, and I slid into his lap as if I were a little girl again. He hesitated for a brief moment, but hugged me tightly. I rested my head on his good shoulder, closed my eyes and grasped his tunic with my fingers.

''Love?'' He murmured in agony.

''I…'' I shut up and sobbed softly. He hugged me tighter and buried his face in my hair. I could feel his body tense and the worry emanating from him. ''I just need to cry... Don't ever leave me... please... kepus.'' I begged almost voicelessly, holding onto his tunic tighter.

We stayed in the same position for a long time, me crying, clinging to him, and my kepus comforting me with kisses on my hair, forehead, and temples. Although the tears, which I shed in the company of Syrax and Tennebris, had eased the burden of my anguished soul somewhat, it now felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The feeling of almost constant suffocation began to leave my chest.

''Kepus?'' I raised my head to look him in the eye and placed my palm on his warm cheek. My voice was a little low and hoarse, but firm. He frowned slightly. ''I…'' I licked my lips and cracked a small smile. ''I love you, Daemon.''

His purple eyes widened and shock crossed his striking features.

''Little dragon…''

I put a finger over his lips to stop him from saying anything else.

''Listen first, please!'' I asked, and he leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and continued to speak softly: ''I loved you like a niece loves her uncle when the time is right, Daemon. However, the day we said goodbye at the Dragon's Pit, I discovered that my love for you was changing, it was turning from a familial love into what a woman feels for a man.''

I kept my eyes closed as I slid my lips down your cheek and buried my right hand in your silver curls. Her arms closed around me and her breathing became heavier. Meanwhile, our dragons remained motionless, wrapped around each other. When I started to cry, I felt a strong wave of anguish coming from Syrax and Tennebris. They asked me why I was crying because of our shared bond, but I couldn't answer immediately.

''Two years ago, I asked you to take me as your wife for fear of suffering the same tragic fate as my mother, being treated and seen only as a breeding mare for future princes and princesses.'' I brushed my lips against his, and Daemon squeezed my waist tighter with his hand. ''Today, I ask you to take me as your wife because I wish to have you by my side as a husband and future King Consort, but above all, as the man I love and, one day, the father of my children.''

Daemon's response to my declaration didn't come in words.

Kepus held my face and kissed me gently at first. In a few moments, his lips became more demanding against mine, moving with a certain urgency and passion. I tangled my fingers in his hair and moaned softly as I felt him harden beneath me. I clung tighter to Daemon, my body on fire and my heart pounding, and he ran his tongue over my lips to deepen the kiss.

For a long time, I fantasized about what it would be like to kiss my kepus, to lose myself in the warmth and security of his arms, to feel his strong, muscular body pressed against mine, his big, calloused hand gripping my hair as his mouth took mine in an intense, searing kiss. And finally, I discovered that reality was infinitely better than the fantasies that invaded my mind almost every night at King's Landing.

And now he was holding my hair with his big, calloused hand, and his lips were moving against mine in a second eager kiss.

I let out a resigned sigh when we had to break off the kiss and nuzzled my face into his neck. Daemon laughed softly at my silent indignation, put his left hand on my knee, and kissed my temple. I was still burning with desire, but the warmth that ignited in my chest was one of pure happiness and relief.

Every word I said came from the depths of my soul and overflowed with sincerity.

I wanted him as my King Consort, but I also loved him as a woman and wanted him to be the father of my children. After Daemon went off to war with Caraxes, it was as if he had taken with him everything that was good in my heart and left behind only the ashes of myself. I cried, wailed, and cursed him for leaving me in King's Landing, but it was Aunt Rhaenys who reached out to me once again and helped me pull myself together.

Daemon had to win the war.

Not for the sake of the Kingdom, not because of the King or Corlys Velaryon's request. Daemon needed to win the war to begin to understand himself and finally find his own place in the world. Although my uncle had a huge reputation that stretched from the Seven Kingdoms through the North to the Free Cities, he still hadn't truly found himself.

“Daemon is a great, best, and bravest warrior, a Prince of Blood, bearer of the ancient sword, the Dark Sister, and rider of the Bloody Worm, a beast of war. Aunt Rhaenys murmured sweetly two years ago. ''But…''

We were in  Driftmark , because staying in King's Landing had been unbearable ever since my uncle left. I couldn't bear to look at the face of the King, or Queen Hightower, or that worm Otto. Being next to my aunt and cousin, Laena was the only place that brought me peace.

''But what, aunt?'' I whispered as I lifted my head from her chest.

She gave me a fond smile.

''But my cousin still needs to find out whom he really is for himself. We, his family, know him, but he's still getting to know himself as a man and as a person, my dear.'' She looked out at the sea through the open window of her bedroom. ''And as deadly and dangerous as war is, maybe that's what Daemon needs at this point in his life.''

I loved Daemon, I wanted to have him as my husband, king consort, and father of my children, but I could never do as my great-grandparents did and hold him against his will.

''Uncle?'' I sat up straight and looked him in the eye. I felt tense and nervous, my palms were sweaty, and my stomach churned. ''Every word I said was true and came from the bottom of my heart, but I would never want you to stay with me out of any kind of obligation. I don't want your freedom of choice to be taken away from you like it was more than 10 years ago.''

His purple eyes sparkled, and he smiled slowly.

''Ah, my sweet niece…'' Daemon tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and kissed my lips quickly. ''My beautiful Nyra…'' His lips slid down my cheek. I ended up closing my eyes to enjoy the caress. ''You are so precious and unique to me.''

A new but extremely wonderful warmth ran through my stomach and spread to my chest. I clung tighter to my kepus, delighting in his soft touches and kisses. I sighed passionately and opened my eyes to look him in the face. There was a new and special sparkle in his eyes and a wide smile on his lips that were slightly swollen and moist from our kiss.

I've never seen him so handsome and relaxed.

''I love you too, Rhaenyra.'' He said it, his tone husky and whispery. ''At first, I loved you like an uncle should love his niece, but when I met you again after two years...'' His lips brushed mine softly again. ''I realized that the girl I had left behind in King's Landing was no more, now there was a beautiful, incredible, and strong woman in front of me.''

Wrapped in the warmth and security of my kepus, I whispered to Daemon what the last two years in King's Landing had been like, how the place that used to be our home had become a wine of snakes.

I expressed how deeply disgusted I was to see, with each passing day, how the worm and the Queen's cow had managed to manipulate King Viserys, whispering sweet lies in his ear and making him a mere puppet in the hands of the leeching duo. And he still deliberately chose to remain blind to reality itself.

''The king spent the entire wedding and still allowed my mother to be cut off so that he could finally have his bloody male heir...'' I remained silent, almost voiceless, but overflowing with hatred and resentment with every word.

The wind ruffled our hair, and I kept my gaze fixed on the sea in front of us. I could feel his attention on my face.

''Now that Viserys has his long-awaited Baelon alive, Aegon and the queen's pussy pregnant for the third time, the king doesn't care about his children and barely sees them, uncle.'' I laughed without a hint of humor. ''My brothers are innocent children, but merely used at court as decoration pieces when the king and his damned wife need to parade among the nobles, looking like the perfect royal family.''

If Viserys' concern and care for his own children were minimal, his treatment of the little people would be nil. Although I knew that Daemon should have been informed by the Black Canary, I explained to him in more detail the terrible conditions in the city of King's Landing. The way the King was always focused on parties for whatever foolish and futile reason, blindly trusting the worm's words that parties and meetings with the nobles were more important than paying attention to the people dying of hunger and disease in every street.

The point that hurt me the most and brought tears to my eyes was confessing how suffocating it was to live in Red Keep and have to stand guard all the time so as not to be stabbed in the back. That castle was supposed to be the home of the Targaryens, as it had been for generations. Now the snakes slithered freely through the corridors and gave orders as if they were the conquerors.

''Viserys broke the damned tradition that only kings sat on the damned Iron Throne, but he never exactly did anything to strengthen my claim as heir to the Seven Kingdoms.'' I hissed, shaking my head negatively. Daemon remained silent, attentive to what was being said and stroking my tense back. ''The worm says no, and the idiot agrees not to let me start any project to help improve the lives of our people.''

Every time Viserys refused to help his brother and the warriors in the war, my resentment, anger, and disgust grew. Kepus confessed to me that he never expected the king to help him in any way, despite sending letters asking for any help he could give them.

The sun was already high in the sky, a little bluish and covered in white clouds, when I confided in him that only the constant presence of Laena and Syrax comforted me, but that I was getting lonelier as time went by. My cheeks flushed as I whispered all the times I wished I could hear Caraxes' familiar whistles and have him back in my arms.

''I'll never let you go, my little dragon.'' He promised, before holding my face and kissing me gently.

The moment I revealed the Hand with Queen's plans to try to convince the King that marrying the Crown Princess to the Dornish Prince would be a great match for the Kingdom and the Crown, Daemon's whole body tensed. His chest vibrated with an angry growl that reminded me of Caraxes and his hands squeezed me tighter against him.

''What do they want?'' His voice was low, angry and exuded danger. I turned my head to face him. ''Are these two leeches trying to whisper in my idiot brother's ear that you'll be a good match for the Dornish vermin?''

I sighed heavily and nodded briefly. He let out another angry grunt. I massaged the tense wrinkle between the kepus' frowning eyebrows. Daemon's face was a deep scowl, while his jaw remained clenched and his dark eyes glittered dangerously.

The promise of death was evident in his expression.

''Yes, Uncle.'' I got up from his lap and stood in front of him, arms crossed. ''And, given Viserys' lack of honor in keeping any promise to his blood family, he will be influenced at some point and try to marry me off to the Dornish worm.''

Daemon jumped off the rock he was sitting on like a cat and stopped in front of me, holding me gently by the shoulders. I widened my eyes a little, not afraid of him, just surprised by the sudden movement. His countenance darkened. It was as if he were part of a dark sky, with heavy gray clouds ready to fall in a terrible deluge on those who irritated him.

''Uncle?'' I mumbled, confused, while Daemon just stared at me. ''Kepus?'' I tilted my head slightly to the side, my forehead wrinkled.

The purple of his eyes was barely visible, the black of his pupils dominated. Daemon remained silent, just staring at me intensely. The telltale sign that he had heard me was his frown. I had never seen him like that before.

''Rhaenyra...'' He finally spoke, although he seemed to be growling my name like an animal. Caraxes, sensing his rider's agitation and fury, raised his big red head with beautiful horns and looked at us both with yellow eyes. ''I'll kill them all, including your father, if they try to take you away from me and marry you off to that damned Dornish prince or any other vermin from the Seven Kingdoms.''

I gasped softly and my heart raced. It probably wasn't the right thing to do, but I couldn't contain the sudden warmth that spread through my belly and the dampness that appeared between my legs. To my horror and his apparent pleasure, I moaned softly as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“By the Valyrian gods, princess, the prince is talking about causing a bloodbath, but you've just prepared to mate with him.'' Syrax said, and I stared at her in shock. My golden lady tilted her head to the side, analyzed both of us, and then snorted at Caraxes. “Soon, we'll have white-headed, purple-eyed children all around us.’’

The crimson dragon let out a few clicks, seeming to agree with Syrax, and covered her again with his wing as he wrapped his long neck around her. My lady's sense of relaxation and contentment hit me.

''I don't believe it...'' I stammered in disbelief, in high Valyrian. My cheeks were hot and flushed with embarrassment. ''Syrax... you...'' I licked my lips, my eyes wide. Daemon raised an eyebrow and looked at my face curiously. Apparently, his fury had calmed down a little. ''Syrax, you can't say something like that so naturally!'' I exclaimed, horrified.

The golden dragon answered me only with a snort of derision and didn't move a single scale under Caraxes' possessive protection.

''What do you mean by that? Syrax, can't you say something like that so naturally, little dragon?''

I looked at my uncle again. He looked rather confused, although he was a little curious too. I motioned for him to sit down again on the same rock, and I settled down next to him, looking out at the sea in front of us. A cool breeze stirred our hair and the leaves of the trees and bushes around us. In the distance, the Seasmoke was flying over the water, diving and throwing what looked like fish into the air before eating them.

''You know that some people still believe that Queen Visenya was a witch or someone who practiced magic, right?'' I asked, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my chin on my knees. Daemon let out a noise that I understood as a “yes”. ''So it's not just legends told in our family or whispered by others, it's all true. I know you love and value our Valyrian roots and all that may still exist in Ancient Valyria, but you're completely skeptical of magic.''

I turned my head to find him staring back at me. Daemon had a frown and a neutral expression. I ended up smiling sideways.

''What exactly do you want to tell me, niece?''

There was no immediate answer. After standing up, I began to untie the laces that held the simple dress together at the front and let the straps slide down my shoulders. The pink nipples hardened the moment my breasts were exposed to the cold wind. The heat rose up my neck, reached my face, and left the tips of my ears burning with pure embarrassment. I needed to turn around to show the Syrax design on my back, but the kepus's dark, luxurious gaze seemed to keep my feet planted on the ground.

''Princess…'' Daemon swallowed three times, looking perplexed by my recent nudity. ''Shit!'' He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his wind-tousled hair. ''Little dragon…''

His bright, wild eyes slid over my face, breasts, and belly, retracing the same path. Although the recent shyness was still present, a mixture of satisfaction and inflated ego bubbled up inside me. My attention fell on Daemon's lap, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the sight of the large bulge.

“Show the tattoo soon, or your uncle will have a heart attack.'' Syrax commented gently.

Although I didn't say anything to my golden lady in response, the new wave of shame reminded me that there were two dragons present on top of the same mountain as the two of us. It wasn't just Daemon and me up there. I took a quick glance in the direction of the two magnificent creatures and saw that they both still had their eyes closed.

''Ever since the day my mother was murdered, I've heard a female voice whispering in my head.'' I stared at it, a little afraid. ''That's how I managed to catch Diana in Viserys' bed back then, because that same voice asked me to get up and go to his chambers. At first, I thought I was going mad, as some Targaryens are said to do, or that I had been cursed for some reason.''

Still silent, Daemon wrinkled his forehead more. Taking a deep breath, I turned my back to him and pulled my long silver locks up over my shoulders, covering my breasts and leaving my back completely bare. I could hear him gasp softly as I began to turn the rings on my fingers and look out to sea.

''The day I arrived in Dragonstone, this voice asked me to look for a secret door in Queen Visenya's room, and, as expected, I did.'' My voice came out a little shaky and unsure. ''It wasn't just a secret passage, but also tunnels that were supposed to connect the whole castle, like the Red Keep, and a very specific room.''

Rough fingers, from long years of hard training with swords and fighting, ran over my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of heat and goose bumps. Daemon traced the black lines that shaped Syrax with devotion and slowness. I played more with the rings and felt a sensation of warmth in my stomach.

''Please continue, princess.'' Daemon asked softly and left a kiss on my bare shoulder without stopping to trace the design.

I licked my lips and then murmured:

''It wasn't a simple room I found, but a shrine of worship to the Fourteen Flames.'' I swallowed when his fingers brushed the skin near my waist. ''There were also ten diaries written by Queen Visenya herself.'' I felt him stop touching me, and his heavy breathing hit the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. ''And, as the voice guided me, I went to read some very specific pages of the fifth diary and found a blood ritual.''

''A blood ritual.'' He took a deep breath. I swallowed and nodded. ''And you performed this ritual, right, princess?''

Before I could answer, Daemon hugged me from behind, placing his large hands on my stomach and resting his chin on the top of my head.

''Yes, kepus.''

I let myself relax against him and began to tell him about the ritual in detail, its purpose, and how I was now connected to Syrax. I also explained that Cannibal was called Tennebris and that, for some reason, he had claimed me as his knight for a certain period of time. Furthermore, I confessed to the visions I'd had of the other world, of those faceless Targaryens, and of the little body wrapped in a shroud on a pyre ready to be burned.

An overwhelming pain shot through my chest as the words left my lips in whispers. Although I couldn't see his face, Daemon hugged me tighter, and I felt him tense up.

''I was blessed by the Fourteen Flames at my birth, and the voice whispering in my head is the Goddess Syrax protecting me and guiding me as her chosen.'' Turning in his arms, I rested my hands on his broad chest and raised my head to look him in the face. Daemon's eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed a little disconcerted by everything I had said. ''Syrax and I are just one, the same soul and mind in two different bodies. What's more, I've also become immune to fire.''

I got out of his arms, tied my dress back in place, and walked towards the two dragons. Syrax crawled out from under the protection of Caraxes' wing, stretched and turned her gourd to look at me with her beautiful green eyes. The Bloody Worm moved his long neck, tilted his head to the side, and let out a blast of hot air in my direction. I laughed softly and ran my fingers over the burning scales on its head.

 “My girl, are you sure about this?'' Syrax nudged my chest, radiating concern.

I stroked and kissed her golden neck.

''Yes.'' I said it in high Valyrian. I turned my head towards Kepus and found him standing in the same place, his brow furrowed and his eyes gleaming with suspicion. ''Watch, Uncle.''

''Watch what, Rhaenyra?''

Ignoring him, I moved a little away from Syrax, stretched an arm towards her mouth, and whispered:

''Dracarys, Syrax.''

''Rhaenyra!'' Daemon shouted.

A small bolt of fire shot through Syrax's throat and wrapped around my outstretched hand. Although I'd already run my fingers through the flame of a few candles, this was the first time I'd tested my supposed resistance to a dragon's fire, so I closed my eyes and waited for the mind-blowing pain that might come. Nothing happened. I cracked a huge smile and looked at my perfectly intact skin.

The sensation of the fire enveloping me was comforting

''Thank you, my beautiful lady!'' I kissed Syrax's neck again after hugging her.

The way Caraxes stared at me with his yellow eyes and blew another gust of hot air in my face made me laugh. Just like his knight, I could feel the warning and irritation being exhaled in waves towards me. My girl let out a slight growl at him and flicked her golden tail on his red wing.

''Little dragon...''

I turned toward the kepus and found it just a few steps away. There was a mixture of disapproval, incredulity, and adoration shining in his purple eyes. Advancing towards me, he held my face between his palms and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to return the kiss with the same enthusiasm.

''Rhaenyra… you…'' He stared at me, panting. ''You're crazy, but I believe you. Fuck, I believed in you before, but now…'' He let out an incredulous laugh and took my hand between his large palms, analyzing the skin without a scratch. ''You…''

Suddenly, Daemon kneeled down in front of me, bowed his head and raised the Dark Sister to me. I stared at him, incredulous and confused.

''You, Rhaenyra Targaryen, are the Dragon Princess.'' His purple eyes fixed on mine with adoration and deep respect. ''The future Dragon Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.''

My eyes watered, and I held out my hand to him.

''And you, Daemon Targaryen, are the Warrior Prince, the future King Consort of the Dragon Queen and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.'' I smiled openly as Daemon wrapped my outstretched hand in his. I stared into his eyes and promised in high Valyrian: ''Together, my love, we will write a new history that will be marked and told in future generations of the House of the Dragon.''

♛

Notes:

Is Daemon in love with our Dragon Princess, yes or for sure?
Without a shadow of a doubt!
I love them!

Chapter 14: Interlude 2.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! I'm back with another chapter!

Happy reading!

♛

Interlude 2.

‘’Dreamfyre and Dhaerys have always been soul mates.’’

King's Landing, 113 AD.

The knight walked arrogantly towards the Throne Room, his head held high and his hand resting confidently on the hilt of his sword. He stopped in front of the huge double doors and waited to be announced by the herald before walking towards King Viserys, who was sitting on the Iron Throne with a deep scowl. The Dornish man kneeled and bowed his head in respect to Your Grace.

''Ser Criston Cole...'' The King's voice seemed to sound stronger and deeper in the emptiness of the Throne Room. The knight, in his well-polished armor and white cloak, merely raised his head to His Grace. ''Stand up, Ser.''

On either side of the King stood Otto and Diana Hightower. The queen's eyes appraised the man's tanned skin, brown hair, and brown eyes with discreet interest. The worm just looked at his daughter without making any facial movements.

''My king.'' Criston inclined his head in another sign of respect. ''Lord Hand, my queen.'' He had to hide a mischievous smile as he addressed Diana.

Viserys, always willfully blind to everything and everyone going on around him, didn't notice the slight exchange of longing glances between his wife and his daughter's Sworn Shield. But Otto didn't let it go unnoticed and would ask the Queen what it meant later.

''Ser Criston, I believe you already know that my daughter, the Crown Princess, left for the Stepstones War a day ago on Syrax's back.'' The king muttered with deep disgust and disapproval. ''Surely, she left because of some trick of Daemon's.''

In his foolish head, which held the crown that should belong to Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon by birthright and primogeniture, he claimed to himself that his little girl would never go to war of her own free will and that Daemon, his brother's pest, had somehow managed to manipulate her.

''Indeed, my king.'' Dornese agreed with thinly veiled enthusiasm to increase the king's anger at his brother. ''I don't believe that Princess Rhaenyra went to war of her own free will, and Prince Daemon is well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for his bad reputation.''

Criston Cole was just a knight of the small House Cole, a vassal of House Baratheron, when he arrived in King's Landing and fought in the Justas, the great tournament held for the first name of Prince Baelon III Targaryen, the King's firstborn son, with his second wife, Diana Hightower. On that occasion, he was defeated by the Rogue Prince. However, while celebrating for the crowd, Daemon was hit in the back by the dorn and ended up losing the competition.

At the same time, after Ser Ryam Redwyne's death, a vacancy opened up in the King's Guard, and the Dornish Knight was chosen by the King himself to be the new Sworn Shield of the Crown Princess, since Ser Harrold had been appointed the new Lord Commander. Viserys decided Criston Cole because he had defeated his brother, and, in his eyes, it was incredible to see Daemon lying on the ground with little chance of winning the competition.

From that day on, the mutual contempt between the Rogue Prince and the Heiress' new Sworn Shield became known at court.

''Well, Ser Criston, as my daughter's Sworn Shield, I want you to go to the Steps and bring the Heiress of the Iron Throne back home.'' The king ordered with a sudden surge of anger as he remembered where his daughter was. ''As ordered by King Viserys, Rhaneyra must return to King's Landing immediately. Take as many men as you need, for we know how violent my brother is.''

Ser Criston agreed with a nod, but the King hadn't finished speaking.

''In addition, I will see to it that the leftover food is taken and used to change my daughter, if necessary.'' He tapped his fat fingers, covered in gold, diamonds, and ruby rings on his knee, impatiently. ''Those bastards won't want a woman in their midst anyway, and they'll never resist the food they ask me for.''

There were a few more exchanges, clear orders from the King, and nods from the Princess's Sworn Shield. Criston Cole then left the Throne Room to prepare for the journey and choose the Knights who would accompany him. In the safety of his room, he locked the door, kneeled in front of the wooden chest on the floor, and opened the heavy lid. The man put some books and clothes aside and gave a big smile when he found what he was looking for.

Already trained, Criston took off all his armor, putting it on the bed anyway, and was left with just a simple tunic and pants. He untied the laces of his pants, and the garment fluttered around his ankles, leaving his erect penis exposed. The white-clad knight picked up the simple maiden's sweater, brought it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. His eyes closed, a broad smile broke out on his face, and his mind became even more clouded by the desire to have the owner of the piece of fabric in his arms.

''Ah, Rhaenyra...'' He moaned softly as he wrapped her stolen nightgown around his throbbing cock and began to masturbate. ''My sweet princess...'' He gasped, biting his lips.

King Viserys had commissioned Criston to rescue the Heiress and take her back to the safety of the Red Keep. However, the knight himself had made his own plans and decided that he would use this unique chance to kidnap Rhaenyra. He planned to take her beyond the Free Cities, where he would take her as his wife, make her the mother of his children, and, together, they would form a beautiful and happy family.

In a mind filled with a sick love, Criston Cole would be saving her from a terrible fate. In this way, Princess Rhaenyra would never again listen to her uncle's depravities, ride that deadly beast or sit on the Iron Throne, which rightfully belonged to Prince Baelon III, the king's first male child.

''My Nyra!'' He grunted, speeding up his movements.

If there was anyone who hated Criston Cole's existence more than the Rebel Prince, it was the Princess of Dragonstone.

♛

Volantis, 113 A.D.

Her red curls fell around her slightly tilted head, and her green-brown eyes remained focused on the embroidery she was doing. The design of a dragon with blue and silver scales was taking shape. The beautiful beast had its wings spread wide, and a flame of fire was coming out of its open mouth, leaving part of its sharp fangs showing.

''Lady Alicent?'' The maid's voice broke the silence in the room when she opened the door. ''Some letters have arrived.'' The girl stopped in front of her mistress, her cheeks a little flushed from the brief run. ''They came from Dragonstone.''

Alicent immediately put her embroidery aside, picked up the letters, and gave the maid an excited smile.

''Thank you, Lyla.''

Lyla curtsied with a small smile and left the room. When the door closed, Alicent hurried to break the familiar seal and open the letter intended for her. The letter to Dhaerys had been put aside because her wife was traveling with Dreamfyre and her two stepdaughters. Meanwhile, Alicent remained at the manor, embroidering and waiting for them to return.

Her green-brown eyes filled with tears when the familiar and beautiful Valyrian handwriting appeared.

“My dear Lili, I write to you with an immense feeling of longing burning in my chest, but I am happy and relieved to know how happy you are in Volantis. I was very reassured to read your last letter and to know that my Aunt Dhaerys has been a wonderful wife to you and that my cousins are accepting your presence as a stepmother.

Unfortunately, I also bring some not-so-good news from King's Landing. The Hand's worm and the Queen's cow are whispering in Viserys' ear, hoping to persuade him to marry me to the damned Dornish Prince.”

Alicent gasped softly, and anger mixed with disgust flooded her heart. She might be Otto's daughter and Diana's younger sister, but she despised them as much as Princess Rhaenyra herself.

‘’As if that bunch of pussies were going to force me to marry that bloody Dornese...’’

She had to stop reading to laugh out loud. Alicent felt indignant for her friend and knew how furious the princess was, but she couldn't help thinking that Rhaenyra had the same explosive temper as her wife Dhaerys. As far as she could remember, Prince Daemon was just like the two of them.

“You needn't worry, my friend, for I will never allow myself to be sold as a breeding mare. I have more than one plan up my sleeve, so let them get ready. But I also need to tell you, Lili, that I finally managed to convince the king to grant the annulment of the kepus' marriage to Lady Royce. It wasn't easy, but the absence of the worm in the Red Keep, good emotional blackmail, valid arguments, letters from my cousin Jeyne Arryn and the Bronze Witch herself convinced him.

I won't have to ask Syrax to burn my kepus' ex-wife, and I'll finally be able to marry the man I love.’’

Alicent widened her eyes and laughed out loud again, then went back to reading.

‘’Alicent, by the time you're reading this letter, I'll have left for the Stepstones. The situation in the war is much worse than the worm tells us in the meetings of the Small Council, and Black Canary has made me aware of the real situation. I made the decision to go and fight alongside Daemon and Syrax to help him, because I want him and the Velaryons to return home and also to escape the king's probable decision to marry Dornish's whore.

Don't worry, I'll be safe with my golden lady and ready to rain fire on my enemies.

With affection and love,

Rhaenyra Targaryen.’’

Carefully, she folded the letter, leaving it beside her, and began to look thoughtfully at her hands. Although she considered Rhaenyra a warrior for being so skilled at wielding a sword and riding a fierce dragon like Syrax, Alicent couldn't help but worry and let her heart grow small in her chest with fear. The crown princess was going to war, and there would always be danger at every step, with death lurking.

In Volantis, the war caused by the Triarchy, made up of Lys, Myr and Tyrosh, was well known, as were the bloody battles fought by the Rogue Prince alongside Lord Corlys Velaryon against Crabfeeder and his pirates. Therefore, Alicent knew the challenges that awaited the princess and feared that something bad would happen to her.

Alicent, Laena and Rhaenyra had been best friends since childhood. The beautiful redhead, now a Targareyn by marriage, lived with her mother and siblings until her fifth birthday in the Old Town, while her father remained in King's Landing as the Hand of the King. However, with the sudden death of Elissa Hightower, she was taken to live with Otto in the Red Keep. In her new home, it wasn't long before she met and became friends with Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Laena.

In time, she and Laena became Princess Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting. Her life was good at court, and she loved her friends as if they were her own sisters, because Diana always treated her badly and Gwayne never paid much attention to her. Her father? He was cold, never affectionate, and only had eyes for his firstborn daughter.

Alicent was 13 days old when her older sister Diana climbed into the newly widowed king's bed and became the new queen consort of Westeros, just a few months after the scandal broke in every corner of the Seven Kingdoms.

Since then, Alicent has become even more invisible in the eyes of her father and sister, which has never bothered her. On the contrary, it was great for her, and her peace lasted just over three years. Without them remembering her existence, she could train with her two friends, learn High Valyrian in hiding with the Crown Princess, and dream of the day when she could live her life in true freedom, away from morally false eyes and poisonous tongues.

Alicent had just completed 16 days of her name when the Hand and Queen called her in for a private chat. That very day, she was informed that she would be marrying a much older man, recently widowed for the fourth time and the father of 12 children, in the next three months and moving to the Stormlands to live with her husband and stepchildren. The girl became desperate, begged her father not to do this to her, and ended up being slapped in the face by her older sister.

''You should be grateful, Alicent.'' muttered Queen Diana angrily. The girl remained sitting on the floor, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the pink mark of five fingers on her cheek. ''I got a great marriage for an insignificant little thing like you.'' She gave a cruel smile and sat down again.

Her future husband was due to arrive in King's Landing in a month's time to meet her in person and start a brief courtship. What neither the Hand nor the Queen foresaw was that Alicent would disappear overnight, taking a few belongings with her and leaving no clues as to her whereabouts. She simply wrote a letter and declared that she would never marry a man as old as her grandfather against her will.

At the time, the two Old Town bloodsuckers were outraged and even tried to indirectly accuse the Crown Princess of having aided and abetted Alicent Hightower's escape.

Offended and heartbroken by the abrupt departure of her best friend and lady-in-waiting, Rhaenyra threw herself into the king's arms. In tears, she told her father that her stepmother and the Hand were accusing her of something without proof, while lamenting and praying to the Seven that nothing bad would happen to her friend. Viserys, heartbroken by his daughter's grief, angrily rebuked his wife and the Hand for accusing her of something without proof and ordered a search for Lady Alicent.

Only the two bloodsuckers saw the victorious, disdainful smile the crown princess gave.

At the same time as the Red Keep was talking about Lady Alicent fleeing to avoid marrying an old man, a tall figure—slender build, red hair cut short to the ears, and wearing baggy men's clothes—was on a ship bound for Pentos.

Black Canary, at the request of two young noble maidens, helped her escape during the night.

''Love?'' A familiar female voice called out to Alicent, bringing her out of her thoughts about the past. ''Is everything all right?'' The woman continued, approaching where the redhead was sitting. ''Lili, did you receive a letter from my niece?'' She frowned as she noticed the papers.

Alicent looked up and opened her eyes a little when she saw her wife. Dhaerys Targareyn had silver braids with a few loose strands, her cheeks flushed with the wind and stained with ash, and her leather clothes dirty. She smelled of dragon smoke.

Her wife was beautiful.

Raised by parents who were worshipers and faithful followers of the faith of the Seven Who Are One, educated for most of her life by septans, taught that a woman should always obey her husband and go to bed only to beget heirs, that any other religion was pagan, and that having a relationship with someone of the same sex was an unforgivable sin and an abomination, Alicent understood ten days after her name that girls were more interesting and beautiful to look at than young warriors.

And to have had her first kiss with Princess Rhaenyra and to have loved the sensation of female lips, albeit a little clumsy and inexperienced, against her own only confirmed what she already knew.

And now, seven years after realizing that she liked girls, Alicent had joined another woman in a Valyrian marriage, was stepmother to two beautiful girls and was freely following the Fourteen Flames.

''Welcome back, my love!'' Alicent murmured, briefly forgetting her current preoccupation, and went to hug her wife. Dhaerys smiled, wrapped her arms around the slender woman's waist and nuzzled her face into the redhead's neck. ''Where are the girls?'' She asked, shivering when Targareyn kissed her sensitive skin.

Dhaerys pulled away a little to cover her wife's lips in a slow, equally passionate kiss. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other and kissing. Finally, they pulled away and Lili smiled at the woman she loved so much.

''The girls have gone for a bath, darling.'' Dhaerys whispered and then frowned gently. ''Did something happen?'' She asked, a little worried by her wife's tense countenance.

Alicent sighed softly, took her soft hand and pointed to the cards on the sofa.

''Some Dragonstone letters have arrived for you and me.'' She paused and sat down on the sofa, while Dhaerys sat at the table, facing her wife. ''Rhaenyra wrote to both of us and told me that she was going with Syrax to the Stepstones War to fight alongside Prince Daemon.'' She whispered, her voice low and trembling, as tears rose in her throat.

Dhaerys held her hands and stopped her from starting to poke her nails until she drew blood. This was a habit that Alicent had carried with her all her life, but she managed to reduce it until it stopped completely when she moved to Volantis. The blonde Targareyn lifted her delicate fingers and kissed each one, without taking her purple eyes off the green-brown ones.

''My beautiful, sweet love...'' Dhaerys whispered and opened a sweet smile. ''I know how dangerous this is and how much you care about Rhaenyra's safety and well-being, and I also worry about my niece, but I know that the crown princess is strong and nothing will hurt her. What's more, I feel that this girl is blessed and gifted by our gods.''

A little unsure and fearful for her friend, Alicent shook her head gently and was pulled into a comforting hug by her wife.

♛

Although few dared to whisper her name aloud within the cold stone walls of the Red Keep, the elders still remembered Princess Dhaerys Targareyn perfectly. Prince Baelon I's first and only daughter with Princess Alyssa, Viserys' middle sister and Daemon's older sister. She was also the second-eldest granddaughter of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne.

And it was in the year 96 AD that Princess Dhaerys Targaryen, with 15 days to her name, fled in the dead of night from the Red Keep through the gorges, sneaked into the Dragon Pit, and finally took Dreamfyre as her mount to disappear over the horizon towards the Free Cities.

All those years ago, Dhaerys was betrothed to her older brother, Prince Viserys, at his insistence and also because her grandparents thought they would make a good marriage for the kingdom. At the time, Aemon Targaryen had already died, so Baelon I became the Old King's heir and Viserys, his father's heir, as a consequence. Everyone, except her brother Daemon and her cousin Rhaenys, knew that it would be a bad marriage and that she would be unhappy for the rest of her life.

Dhaerys fought, cried and begged her grandparents and her own father to change their minds about the marriage and make Viserys the future husband of another maiden. She even pointed out how Aemma Arryn, a little younger, would make an excellent wife, mother, and queen consort when the time came. Besides, it was common knowledge that Princess Daella's only daughter was in love with the heir to Baelon I.

‘’I don't want that foolish girl, sister!’’ Viserys, with 19 days to his name, exclaimed to Dhaerys when she came to beg him to change his mind about the engagement and see how Aemma Arryn had sincere feelings for him. ‘’I love and wish to marry only you, Dhaerys.’’

As no one was willing to change their minds about the wedding, Dhaerys secretly contacted Saera Targaryen and asked for her help to flee to Volantis, as her aunt had done years before. So it was on the eve of her wedding to Viserys in a cursed Starry Sept that she took all her jewelry, the gold she could carry, and a few pieces of clothing before setting off for the Dragon Pit.

Ever since she learned what it was like to be a dragon rider and the bond they shared throughout their lives, Dhaerys had begged the Old King to allow her to go to the Pit and find out who had been calling her for so long. Each request came with a negative response. She could only try to claim a beast for herself after she married and gave Viserys an heir.

Dreamfyre and Dhaerys had always been soul mates, and, on the night of the escape, in freedom, she felt complete for the first time since the death of her mother, Alyssa, at Daemon's birth.

''My love?'' The hoarse, sleepy voice called her at some point in the night. ''Are you all right?'' The question was accompanied by the rustling of the bed and silent footsteps coming towards her. ''Lost sleep again?'' Alicent leaned over the lounger and wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her from behind. ''Darling?''

Dhaerys smiled and pulled her wife onto her lap. Alicent sat up, wrapped her arm around her neck again, and looked into her purple Targaryen eyes.

''I'm fine, love.'' said Dhaerys in a sincere whisper. ''I'm just reminiscing about the past and my brief life in Westeros.''

Lili frowned slightly, laid her head on her wife's shoulder, and began to play with the strap of the blonde's nightgown. Dhaerys hugged her tightly.

''Do you miss King's Landing?'' Alicente asked a little later.

''No, I don't.'' She replied without hesitation. ''Obviously, my life is here in Volantis with you, my daughters and Aunt Saera, but I only miss my cousin Rhaenys, my little brother Dae, and I'd like to be much more involved in Rhaenyra's life as her aunt.''

After her escape, Baelon appeared in Volantis and asked her to return home, with the promise that there would be no more marriage to Viserys and that he was engaged to Aemma Arryn. However, Dhaerys rejected his father's request and said that her home was now with Saera. That was the last time father and daughter saw each other, and she heard from him how much he loved her and was proud of her.

In that last meeting, Dhaerys had a quick glimpse of the father she loved so much and lost on the same day that her mother, Alyssa, died shortly after giving birth to Daemon. At the time, she was just over five days old. Baelon had always been an incredible father, loving and playful with her and Viserys, but the cold way he treated her younger brother began to bother her and distance her emotionally from him.

Until the day he died, Baelon never said how much he resented and, in a way, blamed Daemon for Alyssa's death. Not a word came out of his mouth, nor did he ever punish the boy physically. However, the lack of affection and love never went unnoticed by Dhaerys, and she witnessed how her father's absence hurt her noisy and playful little brother, even if he didn't understand a thing.

While they were alive, Aemon Targaryen and Jocelyn Baratheon raised Dhaerys and Daemon as their own sons and Rhaenys' younger brothers, while Baelon focused more and more on pampering and devoting his attention to Viserys.

''Perhaps Prince Daemon and Rhaenyra will be able to visit us after they win the war and get married.'' Alicent commented thoughtfully and raised her eyes to look at her wife. ''Nyra said that she had always wanted to visit the Free Cities and spend some time with you, love.'' She gave him a hopeful smile.

At first, Dhaerys didn't answer her, he just admired the beautiful redhead who was on his lap and had become his wife a few moons ago. The Princess was a little surprised when, over a year ago, her niece sent a letter via the Black Canary and asked for her help in hosting a friend of hers in her mansion in Volantis for a while.

The letter gave a brief explanation of who Alicent Hightower was and why she had fled Westeros for the Free Cities.

When Dhaeyrs arrived at Daemon's mansion in Pentos and came across a girl—with short red hair, flushed cheeks and green-brown eyes—the princess felt as if everything had stopped around them. The redhead in front of her was breathtakingly beautiful. It was an enchantment at first sight for both sides.

Dhaerys had been a widow for some years and refused to marry another man for a second time. She only married Vaellor, Saera's bastard son by Lord Corlys Velaryon's father, because they both wanted children and didn't want their children to be bastards for lack of a marriage. While Dhaerys always preferred women, Vaellor preferred men. So they married and lay down to bear the children they were expecting, but they kept their lovers during the years of their union.

From this union, Baella Targaryen was born in 99 AD and Lucera Targaryen in 103 AD.

''I think Daemon might bring our niece after the wedding or, from what you've told me, Rhaenyra herself might appear in the skies of Volantis one day on the back of her golden lady to visit us, love.'' Dhaerys murmured at last and shrugged. ‘’We can also visit Dragonstone when they're on the island, as it's safe and free of spies from those Hightower bastards.”

Alicent gave an excited shout and filled her face with kisses, making Dhaeyrs laugh and a peace wash over her.

''I love you, wife.'' The redhead whispered in high Valyrian. ''I love you, our girls and the life we have here in Volantis.''

Dhaeyrs smiled wider and replied in the same tone:

''I love you too, our family and everything we're building, darling.''

♛

 

Notes:

Viserys is an idiot, Otto and Diana are two bastards, Criston is a despicable son of a bitch, Alicent is sweet and Dhaerys is wonderful.

Alicent and Dhaerys as a couple are everything to me.

Did you like my version of Alicent Targaryen? Because yes, she is a Targaryen after marrying Dhaerys in a Valyrian marriage.

And yes, I will bring Daemon and Nyra's children with the other partners from the other world into the Dragon Princess's world, although none of them are their children and there may be a gender swap. I thought this would be interesting, as I want to write something different from what I usually read when it comes to Daemyra's children.

Baela and Lucera (Lucerys in the world of the Black Queen) are daughters of Dhaerys.

See you next time!

Chapter 15: Chapter 11.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! How are you?

In today's chapter, our Dragon Princess will be on the battlefield, so be warned about blood and explicit deaths.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 11.

‘’I'm here, my love.’’

Stepstones , 113 AD.

As if they were merciless and absolute kings above all else, the thunder continued to sound like the roar of a ferocious and violent dragon, giving the impression that the sound echoed in all directions and shook the rock beneath my boots. The constant flashes of lightning managed to break through the heavy gray clouds and illuminate the completely black sky. The rain was fine and cold and hadn't stopped falling since I left camp.

The water seeped through the gaps in my armor and soaked my clothes underneath, leaving me with cold skin and the feeling that the chill would reach my bones at any moment. Some braids made by my kepus had already been undone by the sudden and repetitive movements, and now the strands were stuck to my face, protected by the helmet, and to my back, covered by the Valyrian steel armor.

If it had been any other time, I would have been shivering with cold and wishing for the warmth of a good fire to dry me off and keep me warm. On the other hand, I wasn't in the Red Keep or my beloved Dragonstone, or in the coziness I always found when I was at High Tide in the company of my aunt Rhaenys and Laena.

There was no sign of luxury around Kingdom's Delight or a comforting hug waiting for me from the woman I had learned to love like a second mother.

At that moment, I was standing on a high rock, with the rain falling on me non-stop and the cold seeping into my increasingly wet flesh. My posture was upright, my shoulders firm, my gaze fixed on my moving targets, and my breathing controlled. Although I preferred to wield a sword and feel the adrenaline rush of a hand-to-hand fight, I had also learned to handle a bow and arrow perfectly since I was a child, under Daemon's guidance.

Again, I brought the bowstring close to my chin, took a deep breath, and the arrow flew towards another pirate, hitting him in the head and killing him instantly.

Meanwhile, above my head, Tennebris and Syrax were working in perfect sync and burning the pirates on the soggy ground, the archers on top of the mountain, and lighting up the beach with their flames. Those who weren't killed by Corlys Velaryon's army and the Black Sister of my kepus found the end of their lives in the fire of the beautiful beasts. Although the two dragons didn't need a single whisper from me to eliminate whoever stood in front of them and was an enemy, Laenor was mounted on Seasmoke and the two were fighting on the other side of the island.

It was on this very beach that Tennebris, Syrax and I made it look like a torrent of fire had fallen straight from the sky to the ground, sent by the Fourteen Flames to wipe out the bastards who were celebrating the near death of my fiancé and Caraxes.

Yes, finally, Daemon Targaryen was mine and would become my husband before the Valyrian Gods as soon as the war was won.

''Holy shit!'' I cursed when I put my hand behind my shoulder and no longer felt any arrows in the quiver stuck in my back. ''What the fuck!'' I threw the bow aside and jumped off the rock with the Fire Heart already in hand.

Although Daemon tried to make me leave, I managed to convince him otherwise and would remain on the Stepstones under his orders. The day we argued, I stood my ground and said I would stay because I refused to go back to King's Landing without him. Furthermore, I used the good solid argument that, as long as I was by his side, Viserys would have no way of forcing me to marry the cunt of the Dornish prince. In the end, Kepus made it clear that he didn't want me to fight any pirates directly and that I should only use my bow and arrow in battle.

As if I was going to listen and obey him anyway.

I ripped off my helmet, throwing it into the soggy sand, as it prevented me from moving my head and looking at my flanks more carefully and freely.

The rain had picked up a little, and the strands of hair that had come loose from my braids stuck to my cold cheeks and neck. Although the cold made my fingertips a little numb and cold, the dragon's blood ran hot through my veins and made me move as if I were dancing to a deadly tune among the pirates, scaring them away like insects under the soles of my boots.

Like Daemon Targaryen, I too was a warrior dragon.

Under the thunderous roar of the dragons, Fire Heart's blade clashed in midair against another pirate's sword, and the sound of metal meeting metal filled my ears. The man, much taller and stronger, cracked a wide smile, full of rotten teeth and a yellow crust, as he looked down and came face to face with my figure.

The figure of a woman.

To my dismay, the blood hit my face and my chest, covered in Queen Visenya's armor.

I tore the dagger from the corpse's chest, kept it at my waist, and ran towards the next pirate. He screamed with rage as he raised his right arm above his head and brought his sword down furiously on my neck.

I did exactly what Daemon had told me during training and spun my body sideways as if I were dancing at court balls. I would rarely be stronger than a man, but my short stature and small body were two weapons of defense-attack that would almost always be in my favor in a fight. As the fat man tried to recover and attack me a second time with his sword towards my neck, I closed my gauntlet-covered hand into a fist and punched the man in the jaw.

I clenched my lips to keep from cursing as the pain spread through my fingers, hand, and forearm. Unlike me, the burly man groaned in pain and touched his apparently broken jaw.

I thrust the Heart of Fire deep into the man's belly and, gripping the hilt of the sword with both hands, pulled the blade upwards, tearing the skin halfway up his chest. The blood gushed straight to the ground, and the man's guts hung out of the horrible cut. The man howled loudly, in a mixture of pain and despair, and tried to hold back with his hands the crimson torrent that kept pouring out of his belly. Not allowing him to live another second, I took the sword out of his chest and cut off his head.

My arms were aching a little, my fingers were getting colder as the time passed, and the rain increased on everyone. My breath came out in short gasps, and there was a loud ringing in my ears. It was almost possible to hear my heart beating uncontrollably in my chest. However, giving up was not a choice, nor was allowing the Fattening Crab to win the war and obtain the Stepstones lands for himself.

These lands would belong to Daemon at the end of the war, as we had discussed in high Valyrian lying in his bed the night before. 

The more I cut throats and heads, left a trail of corpses to be devoured by crabs, and set off for the next enemy, my mind seemed to go into a kind of trance, and my body moved of its own accord. Some part of my brain, partially aware of everything that was happening around me, was picking up on how Velaryon's warriors, together with Daemon's army — who were mostly mercenaries, assassins, and third, fourth, and fifth sons of small Houses with no prospects in life — were slaughtering our enemies.

Lightning illuminated the figures of Tennebris and Syrax in the black sky. The two dragons continued to burn anyone who came near, and the Dark King dived to the ground to eat some men.

My boots sank even deeper into the mud when I stopped running and parried the blow of my opponent's blade with the Heart of Fire. The man forced the sword further towards my throat, causing me to wrinkle my forehead with the effort and my arms to protest with exhaustion. The pirate was much stronger than the others I had faced. Suddenly, I was hit and became momentarily disoriented. I hadn't expected to be kicked in the stomach and then punched in the face.

The Fire Heart slipped out of my hand, and I fell to the ground.

The air seemed to have disappeared from my lungs as the pain spread through my chest and my cheek throbbed. The breastplate protected me, but the impact of the kick was still too great for me to feel hardly anything. Damn! I only had the reflex to roll to the side the moment the pirate advanced on me and grabbed the hilt of the sword with the intention of driving it into my throat.

I learned very quickly that, in any confrontation, one wrong move, the simple closing of my eyes for more than a second, could be the cause of my own death.

Furthermore, I looked in Fire Heart's direction and cursed in Valyrian when I realized that my sword was out of reach. A quick plan formed in my head. I grabbed a long wood with my right hand and filled my left hand with the muddy sand. A brief mischievous smile appeared on my lips when I realized that the pirate was going to kick me in the head. Quickly disorienting him, I threw the sand directly into the man's eyes, somersaulted to the right, and stood up in a catlike leap.

''You bastard!'' The hate-filled cry, in high Valyrian, came from the depths of my soul. ''Die like those other bastards who dared to celebrate my fiancé's near death!'' I continued, fury pulsing through my veins.

The man was still trying to wipe his eyes when the first strong blow was delivered by me and hit him in the back of the head. He fell to his knees and groaned loudly in pain. I turned the wood in my hands and hit him again, this time in the middle of the face. His big nose went sideways, and there was a brief sound of bone breaking. Blood gushed out, wetting the man's chin and chest. I grabbed the Heart of Fire and swung the Valyrian blade down towards my opponent's neck.

His head fell into the mud, followed by his body.

I gasped loudly.

My stomach and chest still ached from the kick, and my cheek throbbed from the bastard's punch. This would undoubtedly leave a mark on my skin, and Daemon would have yet another reason, in his eyes, to complain that I had “disobeyed” him and gone to fight with the Crabfeeder pirates. I had to roll my eyes and take a deep breath, but I gave him a brief mischievous smile as I thought about how handsome and delicious my fiancé looked when he was angry.

''This is no time for that, Rhaenyra.'' I muttered to myself, even though a shiver of desire was lodged in my stomach. ''What the fuck!'' I cursed as soon as I turned my head to the left, and anger flooded back into my being. ''Fucking bastards!'' I swung the Heart of Fire in the air and went on the attack.

A few meters away from me, Lord Corlys was fighting two men at once. The Lord of the High Tide was defending himself and trying to attack with a spear, while the two men were using swords and surrounding him on both sides. The older man's fatigue was visible, although he was fighting fiercely and wasn't ready to surrender to his enemies.

I didn't hesitate to run towards Uncle Corlys. Jumping on the back of one of the pirates, I put my right arm around his neck to strangle him and cut his jugular in one swift movement. The man choked on his own blood, and I pushed him away from me. After eliminating the man who was attacking him, Uncle Corlys turned to me and gave me a grateful smile. I smiled back.

We were both panting, completely soaked, and our silver hair was much darker.

“I thought Prince Daemon had ordered you to stay away from the pirates and only use your bow and arrow to help in the battle, dear. Uncle Corlys commented and focused his purple gaze on my cheek. He frowned. “What happened to your cheek, Rhaenyra? He asked, concerned.

Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord Commander Harrold Westerling, and Maester Gerardys were three different men, with very different positions in the Royal Court of Westeros. However, with the passing of the years and the accumulation of disappointment and contempt I'd come to harbor for King Viserys, the three of them had become father figures to me, and I respected them as such.

I touched my wounded cheek and gave a wry smile.

''A bastard caught me off guard with a punch, but I cut his head off.'' I shrugged as if it were nothing. ''By the way, where's my fiancé?'' I asked in Valyrian and my lilac eyes began to scan the surroundings.

Corlys looked at me with both eyebrows arched, but then laughed.

''He'll be furious when he sees that you're hurt, Princess.'' he warned, amused. ''Well, Prince Daemon shouldn't be too far from us.''

I nodded in agreement and continued looking for my kepus.

Daemon was a figure who stood out from the rest, both for his Valyrian beauty and the black armor he wore. It had been a few days since he had been poisoned, and he himself had been very close to death, but he was too stubborn to go any longer without going to the battlefield and would never allow me to go without him. Although he was much better, Caraxes' wing was still a little bruised, and my fiancé forbade him to fly in the skies.

The Bloody Worm was even more upset and furious when Syrax left him behind in his nest and Tennebris teased him for having gone with my golden lady to burn some pirates.

Later, I would have to have a little talk with the black dragon about how he shouldn't antagonize Caraxes anymore.

''Rhaenyra?'' A familiar, slightly irritated male voice called out to me from my left. A smile appeared on my face as I turned and faced the figure of my kepus. Daemon was partially covered in blood, and the fine drizzle didn't seem to be able to wash away his scowling face and red-stained silver hair. “What are you doing here?'' He asked, approaching.

My smile faltered a little, and a cold sensation ran through my aching stomach. It was clear how irritated Daemon was by my presence in the middle of the battlefield. His frowning eyebrows over his dark purple eyes, which ran from head to toe repeatedly, and his lips pressed in a straight line only showed how displeased he was.

I got serious and gripped the handle of the Fire Heart tighter.

I loved him deeply; I knew the Rogue Prince was my twin flame, and I wanted to have a lifetime with him. However, I would never allow him to try to control me or stop me from wielding a sword to fight for those I loved. Although I understood that my fiancé fervently feared that I would be injured or killed in a fight, Daemon would also have to understand that I wouldn't come to the Stepstones if I didn't know what I was doing or didn't feel ready to eliminate the enemy.

Unfortunately, death would be lurking even in the Red Keep, as long as the serpents were free to slither across the cold stone floor as if they were good and merciful sheep in the willfully blind eyes of King Viserys.

''Kepus.'' I inclined my head in greeting and gave a mischievous smile. It was impossible to deny that I, Rhaenyra Targaryen, did not possess the same hot, impulsive dragon blood that ran through the Rogue Prince's veins. ''It's nice to see you in one piece, although I think you need a good bath to get all that blood off.'' My gaze traveled down his body. ''I think you'll need help washing your hair.'' I added in Valyrian.

Corlys laughed out loud. And Daemon? Although he was still furious with me, he gave a mischievous little smile and raised an eyebrow. His purple eyes darkened, and he was ready to try, but a dragon's cry of pain suddenly rang out around us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and an icy fear settled in the pit of my stomach.

The dread became deeper and more vivid when there were more anguished roars.

''Who was it?'' Corlys was the first to speak.

There seemed to be ash in my mouth, preventing me from speaking or moving a single finger. I looked briefly at Daemon and closed my eyes to connect with my two beasts. Relief washed over me as soon as I heard that both Syrax and Tennebris were okay. I focused on my golden lady's mind and saw through Syrax's eyes that she was flying high above the sea. My girl had already destroyed two ships and was burning the third, which had pirates and scorpion weapons on board.

''Child!'' Tennebris' urgent call interrupted my connection with the golden lady, and I concentrated on the black dragon's mind. I gasped loudly at what I saw and was held back by Daemon. “The Velaryon boy and the silly little dragon have been injured!"

Through Tennebris' powerful green eyes, I saw Laenor's figure trapped between some rocks and Seasmoke lying on the ground, not far from his rider. The silverware dragon had an arrow stuck in his wing, but he didn't give up, defending his rider amid warning cries and bursts of fire. Meanwhile, my cousin was trying to fight and was using his sword with his left hand. His right shoulder looked dislocated.

Tennebris spun in the air, and I could see that more pirates were heading in the direction of where Laenor was with his dragon.

''If I throw fire, I can hit the boy and his dragon!'' roared Tennebris, furious and violent. “He needs your help, princess!"

Despair flooded me. It was as if I had plunged into the cold, violent, and icy waters of the Narrow Sea. I opened my eyes and faced my kepus, who returned my gaze with urgency and concern. Daemon widened his eyes and looked as if he was about to say something to me before giving up.

''Come and get us now, Tennebris.'' I commanded in Valyrian. My voice sounded very low, but I knew that the Dark King would hear me because of the bond we shared. I faced my fiancé again and whispered urgently, ''I need you to come with me, Daemon.''

Daemon was about to say something but was silenced by the arrival of the dragon. We turned to look at the Dark King. The powerful black wings caused a gale around us, and Tennebris landed with a loud thud on some corpses and human limbs lost in the sand. It turned its head towards us, staring at us with its green eyes, and let out an animalistic roar.

The urgency mixed with worry and fear for Laenor and Seasmoke made my heart race.

''Uncle Corlys, go, gather your men, and return to camp immediately.'' I whispered urgently. I saw that he was going to ask me something, so I continued in a commanding tone. ''Go now, Lord Corlys!''

Without waiting for him to reply, I grabbed Daemon's hand and pulled him towards Tennebris. The dragon tilted his head to look at my kepus and let out a cry. I paid no attention to him and climbed the black wing, using the beautiful horns for support. I sat on the base of Tennebris' neck, since there was no longer a saddle on him or Syrax, and faced my fiancé.

''Come, kepus.''

He briefly raised a blood-soaked silver eyebrow, deftly climbed onto the dragon, and sat down behind me, then wrapped his arms around my waist. Tennebris flapped his huge wings and launched us into the sky. I looked down at the ground and saw Lord Corlys shouting orders to his men.

''What's going on, Rhaenyra?'' Daemon finally asked.

Taking a deep breath, I put my hands on his arms around my waist and revealed in a low tone:

''Seasmoke was hit by a scorpion arrow, and Laenor seems to have a bruised shoulder. At the moment, the two of them are trapped between some rocks as they struggle, and more pirates arrive to corner them.''

''Damn!''

Syrax joined us with an urgent cry, and I gave my golden lady a slight smile before looking forward again. My heart was clenched in a mixture of anguish and hatred. Faster! To me, it was as if we were on a long journey, even though the distance, on the back of a dragon, between where we were and where Laenor and Seasmoke were trapped was short.

''They're over there, Daemon!'' I shouted above the sound of flapping wings.

A few meters from the huge mountain, almost in the center of the island, there was a small clearing surrounded by tall rocks. In the limited space, Laenor was fighting a pirate, while Seasmoke was launching bursts of fire at the men climbing the rocks and trying to reach their rider. The pirates, who were advancing in the same direction as my cousin, stopped running and raised their heads to the sky at our arrival.

''Dragons!''

The desperate cries reached my ears, and a malicious smile appeared on my face. Daemon clung tighter to my waist as Tennebris spun us around in one swift movement and dived towards the ground, opening his mouth and swallowing the bastards in a torrent of green fire. I stuck my fingers deeper into the super-hot scales and hooked my legs around the black neck to keep my balance.

The strong smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Tennebris landed on the rocks, which gave way under his weight and his sharp claws, so that we could both climb down. Daemon was the first down and helped me. Seasmoke turned his head towards the black dragon and let out a wailing grunt. Meanwhile, Syrax chased the pirates who were running towards an opening in the mountain, burning them and dodging a few fools who tried to hit her with arrows from their bows.

''Go and kill them, my boy.'' I smiled at Tennebris.

The Dark King shot a blast of hot air into my face and launched himself into the air to join Syrax. I then turned to go towards my cousin and was faced with the scene of my fiancé easily fighting off two pirates. Laenor was leaning against the rocky wall, gasping loudly and holding his right shoulder. I climbed down to a lower part and ran towards my cousin.

''Laenor!''

Laenor turned his head towards me and smiled slightly. He had his helmet off, his silver curls were dyed red, and he looked very tired. I put my hand on his chest, and my eyes widened when I saw how his shoulder hung forward in a very strange way.

''I…'' He grunted in response to the muted question in my eyes and groaned loudly. ''I dislocated my shoulder… when we fell.'' Laenor grimaced in pure pain. ''Those damn pirates had three ships with...'' Cold sweat ran down his forehead and temples. ''Scorpions and hit the wing of the Seasmoke before we crashed here.''

I was distressed and had to control my hands not to go towards his shoulder, as I knew I could hurt him even more if I touched him the wrong way.

''I'm sorry, cousin.'' I whispered in agony.

Laenor gave a tired, painful smile and nodded.

''We're in a war, Nyra.'' He licked his lips. ''The risks are numerous and constant. Besides, we'll soon be recovered and ready to burn those bastions again.''

I opened my mouth to say something, but we both turned our heads as Daemon approached. My fiancé held the Black Sister in one hand and frowned when he saw Laenor's condition. Behind the kepus, the two bodies were lying in the sand, their heads missing. I looked at him again and hugged him.

''Kepus...'' I whispered, calmer now, and leaned my forehead against his black armor-covered shoulder.

Daemon slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and kissed my forehead, oblivious to the sweat mixed with pirate blood and sand on my skin. I sighed softly and allowed myself to relax against his body.

''I'm here, my love.''

♛

Notes:

Rhaenyra as a warrior is the pinnacle of power for me, frankly. I love seeing her powerful, unafraid to go to war and with her two dragons. And Daemon? Always wonderful and hot.

Now, a private question: What's happening to the good Daemyra stories? I rarely find one to read.

Anyway....

Spolier from the next chapter:

I licked my lips, my breathing was already affected.

I took a step forward and he tilted his head slightly to the side, towards me. I didn't say anything, and neither did Daemon. I wasn't foolish enough to think I'd surprise him, because I knew he'd already noticed me. We stayed like that for a few seconds: he remained relaxed in his bathtub while the excitement only grew inside me and my cheeks burned with a certain shyness.

''You're thinking too much, dear niece.'' He declared in high Valyrian. His intonation was low and very husky, which increased the heat throughout my body and raised the hairs on my arms. ''Aren't you coming to keep me company, love?''

With a deep breath, I put the Fire Heart away on a small table, took off my leather boots and let the simple dress fall over my feet. I walked towards him, suppressing the urge to twirl my rings nervously, and stopped by the edge of his flag.

The water was steaming.

''Kepus... - I whispered in a tone similar to his.''

Chapter 16: Important notice.

Hello, little dragons! 

Unfortunately, this isn't a chapter. However, I've come to warn you that I'll be absent for the next two weeks, as I've had an operation on my legs and can't sit for long, and I'm using the computer to translate each chapter from Portuguese into English. Even for my Brazilian Wattpad readers, there will be no posts for the same two weeks. 

I ask for a little patience and understanding. I'll be back soon with an amazing chapter. 

Thank you so much!

Chapter 17: Chapter 12.

Notes:

Good night, little dragons.

Well, here in Brazil it's good night. hehehehehe

How are you all? I hope you're well! I'm almost 100% recovered from my surgery.

I'd like to thank you all for understanding my lack of posting, but here I am with a chapter for you all.

Today's chapter has a bit of obscenity.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 12.

‘’ We are dragons, my love.’’

Stepstones , 113 AD.

I left Laenor's tent behind and walked towards my new destination. During the short journey, I was greeted respectfully by the warriors, some of whom called me “Dragon Princess.” I smiled softly and nodded politely in response.

''Good evening, Dragon Princess!'' One of Velaryon's soldiers inclined his head as I passed him.

I smiled again and nodded, continuing on my way.

“Good evening, Ser!

Our last fight against Crabfeeder took place at dawn the same day, so we were all still tired and recovering physically. From what Lord Corlys told me earlier, our casualties were few, and the dragon's fire burned thousands of enemies. However, it wasn't as if victory was anywhere near us. The mountain, which Crabfeeder and his pirates used as a hiding place, was a huge obstacle for everyone, making our victory an almost surreal dream.

The dragon's fire wouldn't melt the mountain with the damned inside, and it would be a suicide mission, as well as sheer madness and foolishness, if we dared to enter the caves blindly to try to defeat them.

So how could we finally defeat them?

I put my hands behind my back and hurried my steps towards my fiancé's tent. After we rescued our cousin and Seasmoke, I stayed by Laenor's side for most of the day and only left to take a quick bath in my tent before returning to his side. The healer Luli had already put Laenor's dislocated shoulder back in place, immobilized it, and medicated it. He was now sleeping peacefully under the watchful and loving eye of his knight, Joffrey Lonmouth.

The Velaryon brothers had good taste in men.

I gave a small smile at the thought, and my heart filled with longing for my sweet, adventurous cousin Laena. I knew she was safe and well in High Tide with her mother. However, I had the feeling that something would happen soon; it was as if my body and my sixth sense had already sensed it in advance. Before my departure from Dragonstone, I asked Black Canary to keep an eye out for any suspicious movements by the Royal Hand and Queen Hightower in my absence from King's Landing.

No messages have arrived since my departure. 

There was also the Master of Laws' youngest son, Larys Strong. The famous Crooked Foot. The man was strange, discreet in his own way, and went unnoticed by most of the nobles at court. Although we never exchanged many words, he didn't give me the same feeling of security and confidence as Harwin. His dark eyes and restrained smile seemed to hide the figure of a very dangerous man.

The Black Canary would try to uncover any dangerous whispers about Crookedfoot.

Finally, I arrived in front of the kepus' tent, and my sudden courage to face him slowly began to dissipate. As I'd been by Laenor's side for most of the day, I didn't have time to face the board, ill-tempered beast with silver hair and beautiful purple eyes that was my fiancé. On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it would prevent Daemon and I from having a silly argument about my direct participation in today's battle.

‘’Do you want me to burn the Warrior Prince for you, child?’’ Tennebris' casual question sounded in my mind as gentle as the evening breeze that stirred my loose, bath-dried hair. The black dragon remained in its current nest, neither too far nor too close to the camp, so as not to frighten the men. “I imagine this will annoy the little red one, so I'll be happy and satisfied.’’

Tennebris and Caraxes didn't get along very well, although the Dark King was more tolerant of Seasmoke and didn't bother or pick on Syrax so much now.

''You don't have to burn my fiancé.'' I muttered in a breathless voice, knowing that he would hear me. ''But thank you, Tenny.''

I laughed softly when he let out an annoyed growl, and I felt Syrax's satisfaction at our connection. Tennebris hated the affectionate nickname of Tenny that I had given him the other day. I let out another amused laugh as I shook my head and took a deep breath, gathering my courage to face the great evil dragon that awaited me.

I was the only person who could enter Daemon's tent without calling him or being announced, so I simply pushed aside the thick fabric covering the entrance and entered the silent space. My gaze scanned the room behind the familiar silver hair, finding nothing at first.

I knew that Daemon had recently gone to his tent. He had spent much of the day discussing with Uncle Corlys and the other men the likely strategies for eliminating our enemy for good.

At this moment, there was a new spark of hope in everyone. We had two more dragons on our side, warriors from the Stormlands, food, new weapons, and provisions for a while, but there could come a time when everything would start to look the same as it had before my arrival.

That was very frustrating.

Fucking seven hells!

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to push the wave of frustrating thoughts into brief oblivion, as there was something more important to be done at the moment. Although Laenor and Seasmoke were injured, we had a good result in today's battle. Although it was good news, I knew that the kepus was very angry with me.

And he got very hot when he was angry.

I smiled a little and finally realized that I had barely moved a few steps away from the entrance. Although there were many worries and uncertainties, I wanted to have some time alone with my fiancé so that I could lose myself in his warm arms and savor his lips against mine in a few kisses. Unfortunately, we didn't get any further than hot kisses and even bolder hands, as Daemon insisted that he would only take me as his own once we were married.

But he didn't say we couldn't have a bit of fun before the wedding, right?

The sound of moving water caught my attention, and my feet immediately followed. Being a prince, Daemon had a tent as big as Uncle Corlys'. There was a separate space to be used as a kind of bathroom, and a bathtub fit inside without any problem. Oh! I widened my eyes a little and swallowed when I discovered the source of the sound.

Inside the bath, surrounded by some candles, my uncle was sitting with his back to me. His long, wet hair was clinging to his broad back and strong shoulders. He looked so relaxed, soaping up, and so handsome.

Fuck, he was completely naked!

A relatively new warmth, which only he could make me feel, began to grow in my belly and settle between my legs. I swallowed again, my heart racing in my chest, and a sudden surge of courage made my face, neck, and the tips of my ears burn.

I licked my lips; my breathing was already affected.

Furthermore, I took a step forward, and he tilted his head slightly to the side, towards me. I didn't say anything, and neither did Daemon. I wasn't foolish enough to think I was going to surprise him, because I knew he'd already noticed me. We stayed the same for a few seconds: he remained relaxed in his bathtub, while the excitement only grew inside me and my cheeks burned with a certain shyness.

''You're thinking too much, sweet niece.'' he declared in high Valyrian. His intonation was low and very husky, which increased the heat throughout my body and made the hairs on my arms grow. ''Won't you come and keep me company, love?"

With a deep sigh, I put the Heart of Fire away on a small table, took off my leather boots, and let the simple dress fall around my feet. I walked towards Daemon, suppressing the urge to twirl my rings nervously, and stopped at the edge of his bathtub.

The water was boiling.

''Kepus...'' I called out in a tone similar to his.

The flame from the candles faintly illuminated the tent and seemed to turn my fiancé's eyes a shade of purple so dark that it vaguely reminded me of the scales of Tennebris. I shuddered a little when Daemon licked his lips and brazenly analyzed me from top to bottom. My wetness increased even more as soon as he fixed his attention on the mound between my legs and swallowed.

''Fuck...'' he moaned softly. ''Love?'' Daemon held out an arm to me.

I didn't hesitate to accept his wet hand and was gently pulled into the tub. The very hot water was relaxing, but I didn't pay much attention, as all I could do was stare at my fiancé's face and bare chest. I stood between his legs, and Daemon held my waist with his heavy hands. Suddenly, he pulled me onto his lap. I gasped loudly and dug my nails into his shoulders as I sat on his muscular thighs.

Daemon was completely hard and throbbing against my aching, needy opening for him.

''Fuck, Nyra!'' He looked at me as if he wanted to devour me. ''I was furious that you hadn't listened to me and had gone to fight those bastards directly, but also...'' He swallowed. ''My cock has been hard all day just remembering how you looked like a Valyrian goddess in the middle of the battlefield, with your hair disheveled and dirty with the blood of your enemies.''

His hands pulled me by the waist, and his penis finally touched me. The thick tip brushed against my nerve bundle, and a delicious sensation ran up my spine. I needed more contact. Leaning my knees on the sides of his hips, I ended up settling better on his lap and having more contact with Daemon's throbbing erection. He moaned, gasping softly, and threw his head over the edge of the tub, closing his eyes. His rough fingers squeezed the flesh of my buttocks harder.

'''Daemon…'' I squeezed the wet strands between my fingers and began to rub myself against his cock. Grunting hoarsely, he grabbed me around the waist and began to help me move faster. ''This is so good… Kepus!'' I gasped loudly.

Daemon lifted his head and turned his lust-darkened eyes on my face. He was breathing in quick little sighs, his eyebrows were furrowed, and he was biting his lips. The dim light showed that his expression of pleasure was a reflection of mine.

''Rhaenyra...'' He grunted. I shuddered with pure pleasure, and the heat of the impending release settled in my belly. ''My Nyra... My sweet, beautiful niece... Look at you, so good and devoted to your old uncle.''

I pulled the strands from the back of his neck and enveloped his mouth in a violent, urgent kiss. Daemon kept one hand on my waist, still helping me move against his erection, and began to massage my clitter with his callused thumb in circular motions.

I almost lost my rhythm, but the hard, burning slap on my ass motivated me to keep going. He laughed softly during our kisses and took the opportunity to slide his tongue back into my mouth when I moaned loudly. Finally, I had to pull away from him in search of air.

''Oh, Daemon!'' I moaned in abandon and a little louder. ''Kepus...'' Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead into the curve of his neck and sank my nails into his arms. ''More... More... That's it, kepus!''

The mixture of his heavy breathing against my ear, the constant friction on my nerve bundle, and the contact of his delicious erection on my sensitive folds brought me to the peak. With a loud sigh, I began to tremble and bit my fiancé's shoulder, cumming seconds later. I barely had the strength to rub against him until Daemon threw his head back and his chest vibrated with his silent moan.

''Nyra...''

I fell, soft and completely satisfied, against his chest, and Daemon wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. We stayed in the same position for a while, in silence and just enjoying each other's presence.

''I won't apologize for not obeying you and going to the battlefield when my arrows ran out, Uncle.'' I whispered some time later. I didn't move, and he continued to run his hand lazily over my back. ''But I apologize for worrying you.'' I pulled away to look him in the eye.

To my surprise, Daemon gave a small smile.

''Your mother was right when she said that we were made of the same flesh and the same fire, even though we were born at different times and to different fathers.'' He murmured softly. ''I confess I was rather annoyed when I saw you next to Lord Corlys earlier and was ready to throw you over my shoulder to get you off the battlefield as quickly as possible, because...'' Suddenly, he fell silent and kissed each of the fingers on my right hand.

I wrinkled my eyebrows a little.

''Daemon?''

He held my face between his hands and leaned his forehead against mine, then confessed:

''When you told me that you had managed to get the king to annul my cursed marriage to the Bronze Bitch, I understood that I could finally marry for love, by my own choice this time... I felt afraid.'' Daemon was looking at me with such sincerity. There was also a fragility exposed in his slightly melancholy expression. ''It wasn't fear of getting married a second time, not to you, my love. The fear I felt was of losing you—that something or someone could take you away from me.''

Daemon was opening up to me once again, putting aside his Rogue Prince armor and his arrogant smile. With each new day, he allowed me to get to know a new version of him, going beyond the uncle who picked me up when I was a newborn baby, and he was a 12-day-old boy by name. I began to discover the deeper, hidden layers of the man who kneeled in front of me, in front of our dragons, and asked me to be his wife.

Finally, Daemon continued in high Valyrian:

''Besides, this is the first time that someone has really wanted me, chosen me, because it's just me, not because of my title of Blood Prince, the amount of gold I own, my dragon, or my reputation as a man feared by others.''

My heart ached at the expression of anguish that appeared on his beautiful face, and my vision was blurred by tears. I took his cheeks in my hands and ran my thumb over his lower lip. He hugged me tighter.

“Nothing and no one will ever take me away from you, Daemon,” I said. I felt I had to make him understand, believe, that I would always be there for him, no matter what. If necessary, I would rain fire and burn anyone who dared try to stand in our way. “I will live this life and a thousand others just to be with you, to feel the warmth of your arms, to be yours, to choose you, to want you, kepus.

He opened his eyes. I realized, somewhat surprised, that Kepus seemed to be about to cry. I stroked his hair and kissed his lips, earning a small smile from him. At that moment, it wasn't the famous and infamous Rogue Prince, the acclaimed Warrior Prince, who stood before me. It was just Daemon, a man with qualities, flaws, achievements, losses, fears, and dreams like any other.

''That and a thousand other lives…'' Kepus repeated and stared at me as if he were seeing one of our gods incarnate in his arms. ''Would you really choose me in all our lives, Rhaenyra?'' There was a mixture of incredulity and surprise on his face.

Prince Daemon Targareyn was famous for his royal name, for the fame that followed him like his shadow, for his incredible skill with the sword, for being the best warrior in the Seven Kingdoms and a knight of the Bloody Worm.

In King's Landing, the whispers were loud when it came to his mania for visiting brothels more than staying in his own room in the Red Keep, his “thirst” for blood, his violence, the devotion and respect his loyal Gold Cloaks had for him, his drunkenness, his explosive, impulsive, and chaotic personality.

As the damned royal worm used to remark “innocently” to anyone who would listen: Prince Daemon was like the second coming of Maegor.

No, my beloved kepus would never be like King Maegor.

Daemon had his faults, some truth in his reputation as the Rogue Prince; he carried an explosive, impulsive, and chaotic personality behind his arrogant and charming smile. However, there was much more to him than just the negative and bad aspects. My groom was much deeper than other people's eyes could see, and their ears were willing to hear.

''Yes, Daemon.'' I didn't look away from his gaze as I mumbled each word. ''I would choose you in this and the next thousand lifetimes, because I love you, kepus.'' I licked my lips. ''I know how you've been hurt, rejected, and betrayed by those who should love you the most, be by your side, and protect you… And I'm sorry for that.''

''Rhaenyra…''

I pressed a finger to his lips and smiled fondly at my twin flame.

''Daemon, my heart chose you to be my love, my husband, and the father of my children before I even knew what that meant. You were my beloved uncle. The one who taught me how to handle a sword, to learn High Valyrian, who took me to the skies in Caraxes, who spoiled me with expensive and beautiful gifts, who stood by me when I asked Syrax to burn the pyre with my mother and Baelon.''

Tears streamed down my face, and Daemon wiped them away. With a deep breath, I continued in Valyrian:

''Now, you are my twin flame, who I wish to be by my side when I alight the Iron Throne as Ruling Queen, helping me to watch over the Seven Kingdoms as my equal.''

Daemon wiped my tears away with his rough thumbs again. His eyes were watery.

''I love you very much, Rhaenyra.'' He said it in a whisper. ''A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing… And I was lonely until you came along, and the mere thought of losing you was like dying myself.'' He licked his lips. ''It will always be instinctive for me to want to protect you, to keep you away from any and all danger without risking a single scratch, but I can't hold you; I'll never be able to do that with you.''

Wiping away the few centimeters that separated us, I slid the tip of my nose across his cheeks and took Daemon's lips as my own. Unlike the others, our kiss was calm now, conveying our feelings as individuals and connecting us even more as a couple. He put his hand on my neck, slid his fingers down to the strands at the neck, and ran his tongue over them when I opened my lips. I clung to him tighter and returned the kiss with the same enthusiasm.

With a small smile, I pulled away and leaned my forehead against his. His thumbs brushed my cheeks again, and I looked into his clear, sparkling eyes.

''We are dragons, my love. We weren't made to be chained, controlled, or kneeled before sheep.'' Daemon smiled as he continued. ''You are my twin flame; I feel it in every inch of my body.''

I gasped softly, and my eyes began to water again. I could feel his love for me seeping and growing in my soul.

''I will protect you as your uncle, husband, and future father of your children. I will never do like my brother or any of the idiots in the Seven Kingdoms. They would clip your wings and lock you in a gilded cage with the false promise that it was for your safety. I will always be your sword, your shield. I will be by your side and at your back, never letting anyone dare hurt you. Furthermore, I will never try to stop you from defending yourself. I will never try to stop you from fighting. I will never try to stop you from making your own decisions or stifle the fire of Old Valyria that burns inside you, Rhaenyra.''

Unable to express how much his words impacted and moved me, I could only kiss him urgently for long minutes.

''I love you, Daemon Targaryen.'' I whispered as I pulled away.

His smile in response was beautiful.

Some time later, we had dinner at his table, with me perched on his lap as we shared the same plate and exchanged occasional kisses.

The right thing to do was to go back to my tent, thus avoiding any lying rumors that might cast doubt on my virginity for being in the company of a man, completely unaccompanied. However, I had spent so long away from him and was so close to losing him to death that I simply put on Daemon's robe and crawled into his bed.

Daemon raised an eyebrow and smiled, saying nothing.

''Your eyes turned as green as his and your pupils narrowed, Nyra.'' Kepus commented casually after a few kisses. I lifted my head from his chest to look him in the face. He was pensive, and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. ''Earlier today, when Tennebris warned you about Laenor's situation with Seasmoke, it was as if I was looking into the old dragon's eyes, not yours, love.''

Thoughtfully, I rested my head on his chest, and Daemon pulled a blanket over us. I began to draw random circles on his chest.

''From what I read in Queen Visenya's diaries about how the rider connected to his dragon's mind after the ritual, there was nothing that said the rider's eyes would change as you described, kepus.'' I licked my lips. ''Perhaps the following pages will explain this, but I can only be sure when we return to Dragonstone.''

Daemon agreed with a grunt, hugged me tighter, and kissed the top of my head.

''Well, we'll have plenty of time to read the diaries later, but let's go to sleep now, because tomorrow we have a lot to discuss with those pussies, love.''

I laughed softly and kissed his chest.

''Good night, kepus.''

''Good night, niece.''

♛

Chapter 18: Chapter 13.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! It's been a long time, hasn't it? I apologize for not having posted any new chapters for so long. I've had a bad couple of weeks, but let's move on.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 13.

‘’Daemon Targaryen, you are a free man from the Bronze Bitch.’’

Stepstones , 113 AC.

Daemon was fast asleep next to me.

We had slept curled up together, as if we were our own-mated dragons, all night, as far as I could tell when I woke up a few minutes ago. I was lying on his chest, my face against his neck, which smelled of soap and a recent shower, and his strong arms holding me. Feeling a little sore from being in the same position for so long, I crawled over to his side and let him get more comfortable. Daemon was barely moving. He had an arm over his eyes, and his lips parted as he snored quietly and nonchalantly.

I felt enormous peace in my heart as I saw him more relaxed, enjoying a few hours of sleep for his own rest.

The first lights of day had already appeared on the horizon, and I could hear the men moving around outside. I knew we should get ready and have breakfast soon, but I allowed myself to appreciate a little more the sight that was my kepus. My fiancé. The blanket that wrapped around his hips left his glorious chest completely exposed, and a few silver hairs escaped from his old pants.

I bit my lower lip and sighed softly, staring at the bulge in Daemon's lap.

Before I could let my lustful impulses take over, I looked again at his face, still partially covered by the arm that covered his eyes. His red lips were inviting me in for a kiss. I sighed softly again and shifted my gaze to his strong, pale chest.

He had many scars, some redder, and some pinker, that covered a large part of his chest and ran down to his belly. There was one scar in particular that made me swallow hard, and my blood sang loudly, begging me to rain fire and blood on my enemies out of pure desire for revenge.

In the first year of fighting at Stepstones, Daemon was hit by a flaming arrow in the same shoulder where he was wounded the day I arrived, although the tip was closer to his neck.

The scar from the flaming arrow was the one that caught everyone's attention the most, and probably the most painful, too.  It had left a slight dark pink bulge on his shoulder; part of the scar ran up his neck, and the rest stretched across his chest and ribs. The skin looked wrinkled, a little rough to the touch, and it was still fragile and sensitive.

I had to hold back tears when I saw it for the first time, as I listened to him tell how he had been injured and physically weakened.

Daemon was still fast asleep, so I allowed myself to touch the new scar on his shoulder, caused by the poisoned arrow, with my fingertips. I promised myself that I would always look after, protect, and love my fiancé in this life and the next. I would do everything in my power to ensure that Daemon would never again feel unwanted in his own home, like a useless burden on the Kingdom or a political scourge that Viserys always opened his mouth to say.

My fiancé was so much more.

A smile grew on my face as I remembered Daemon's new title in my life. Even though I knew he was going to marry me, it was thrilling to see him get down on one knee and ask me to be his wife.

Just a few days ago.

''I convinced the King to annul his marriage to Rhea Royce, kepus.'' I murmured softly, with a mixture of nervousness and excitement churning in my stomach. Daemon, who was once again sitting on the rock with me on his lap, tensed up and widened his eyes a little. ''Now you're a free man from the Bronze Bitch.''

A mixture of emotions flashed across his face. I recognized mainly disbelief, relief, and a strong flash of anger. I feared he was angry with me, so I asked softly.

''Are you angry with me, uncle?'' I whispered, with my heart stuck in my throat.

His silver eyebrows wrinkled over his purple eyes, and his expression became confused. Daemon looked at me with great horror.

''What? Me angry with you, love? Of course not!'' He seemed genuinely surprised by my sudden question. ''Why should I be angry with you, Rhaenyra?''

Feeling shy, I shrugged my shoulders gently and played with the fabric of his black tunic.

''I honestly don't know, Uncle.'' I lowered my gaze, whispering. ''I could see how angry you were when I told you about the end of your marriage to Lady Royce.''

He sighed softly and put two fingers under my chin so that I could look him in the eye. Daemon smiled slightly and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I smiled back at him, feeling a little calmer and more relaxed.

''I could never be angry with you, my sweet, beautiful love. It's true that I'm very happy and relieved to be free of that damn false marriage that kept me chained to that hateful woman, but…'' Kepus paused briefly to lick his lips, which attracted my attention for a moment. ''I confess I was angry, but never at you, Nyra.''

I frowned and waited for him to finish explaining.

''My anger stems from the fact that it took me years to finally get rid of Rhea, no matter how many times I begged the king to grant me an annulment of a cursed marriage that was never consummated or desired by either party.'' Daemon laughed wistfully. ''Given Viserys' history of hating me and wishing I had never been born, I was foolish to think that one day I would be able to get rid of the Bronze Bitch by any means other than her miraculous death or me killing her.''

I put my hand on his face, ran my thumb over the soft skin, and kissed his lips softly. When Daemon smiled, his single dimple appeared and left me in awe. It was so rare to see him smile genuinely, without a trace of arrogance or disdain.

''Viserys is a bastard who doesn't deserve to be mentioned or even remembered by any of us, Daemon.'' I said, angrily. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in his blond hair. He buried his head in my neck and hugged me tighter. ''''He's a fucking hypocrite. He blames you for Grandma Alyssa's death at birth, when she had a massive hemorrhage after giving birth, but he himself ordered the Mellos worm to open my muña like that.''

Daemon raised his head to look at me with surprise in his eyes.

''Little dragon...'' He started to protest.

I quickly nodded and covered his lips with two fingers, giving him a brief, reassuring smile.

''I know you blame yourself for Grandma Lyssa's death, although nothing that happened to her was because of you, Daemon. Unfortunately, I held his face by the cheeks, not allowing him to look away.'' I held his face by the cheeks, not allowing him to look away.  ''Many of us lost our lives during and after childbirth, like your mother and mine, although the reasons were different.''

Daemon closed his eyes, sighing softly, and his hands on my waist squeezed me tighter. His countenance was a mixture of sadness and defeat, which made my chest tighten with his pain. On the other hand, I was willing to work hard so that the kepus would finally understand that Granny Alyssa's death was a tragedy and not his fault, as Viserys constantly reminded him at every opportunity.

The king hated his younger brother so much because he said that Daemon was the only one to blame for their mother's death.

''Part of me believes in you, Nyra.'' He whispered and leaned his forehead against mine. ''But it's not easy to get out of my heart all the rejection and lack of love I received from Baelon while he was alive. I've spent most of my life wondering if Muña would be alive and, well, now if she'd never gotten pregnant with me.''

I had to take a deep breath to hold back the flood of tears. There was so much pain, loneliness, and guilt in every word Daemon whispered. Our dragons remained quiet, but I felt Caraxes' attention caught between his rider and me.

''Grandfather Baelon was stupid to throw his resentment and pain over the loss of his wife onto the shoulders of a newborn baby. I understand that he suffered greatly from Alyssa's death, but I will never defend the way he treated you, Daemon. And Viserys is a bloody hypocrite. He let them cut up the woman he swore to love and allowed a snake into his bed a few nights after I burned the pyre with my mother and brother.''

Tears of anger and indignation flooded my eyes. I hated Viserys so much. Hatred and the desire for revenge ran through my veins like the dragon blood of my ancestors.

He was a disgrace for murdering my mother, for the contempt he always had for my kepus, for allowing Diana Hightower to lie in my mother's place a few days after her death, for letting the Dragon House be consumed and ultimately destroyed by Otto's worm, for making my mother a breeding mare until he killed her, and now not paying the slightest attention to his two children with his new wife.

''He doesn't deserve your tears, my love.'' Daemon murmured affectionately and rubbed his fingers under my eyes, wiping away the fresh trail. ''Viserys is an arrogant, willfully blind fool. He says he loves, but he doesn't know what real love is.''

I sighed and shook my head.

''You're right, Daemon.'' I smiled weakly. Then I decided to change the subject a little, because there was no point in talking about the King. ''But back to your lovely ex-wife...'' I had to interrupt myself so I could laugh out loud at the face the kepus made.

Daemon looked like he'd sucked a lemon as soon as I mentioned his ex-wife. While I was still laughing at his obvious indignation, he snorted and rolled his eyes with boredom. I couldn't resist and gave him a quick kiss on the little pout that had appeared on his lips. He raised an eyebrow when I pulled away.

'''Adorable and Rhea's name in the same sentence is something that can't be real, dear niece.'' Finally, he grumbled, still annoyed and indignant. I had to laugh again. ''That woman is hateful, unbearable, a snake without scales. She hates us with all her might because we're Targaryen.''

A slow, arrogant smile began to appear on my face. Daemon raised an eyebrow in mute questioning, and his hand, which had slid to my thigh, squeezed. To make him more irritated and curious, I kept smiling and playing with the loose strands at the nape of his neck.

''Rhaenyra?''

I laughed mockingly.

''Ah, kepus, you're quite wrong on one point about Lady Royce.'' I finally replied and kissed his lips, pulling away with a teasing smile.

Daemon gave me a questioning look. ''Rhea is truly hateful, insufferable, and a scaleless snake, but she doesn't hate us for being Targaryen. In fact, she hates you because you have a stick between your legs, Daemon.'' I shrugged.

My uncle blinked slowly, looking at me and seeming to understand what I was saying between the lines. My teasing smile widened, and I had to hold back the urge to laugh.

''What do you mean, love?'' He wrinkled his forehead.

''Well…'' I paused dramatically and wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck again. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, then looked at me curiously again. ''I could see from the encounters we had at the Eagle's Nest, during my trips to get an annulment, that Lady Royce is more interested in vaginas than dicks and even openly flirted with me when we went riding just the two of us.''

Daemon's expression was one of pure shock and horror. Kepus looked at me as if a second head was growing on my neck.

''She said something like, I understand that you Targaryens have a custom of marrying among yourselves. Besides, I'm very willing to get rid of your uncle, but I can't understand how a woman as beautiful, charming and strong as you could want to marry Prince Daemon.'' I shrugged, letting out a small laugh. ''Then she asked me if I had ever tasted another woman's kiss.''

Still in a state of bewilderment, Daemon swallowed and asked almost voicelessly:

''Have you ever tasted another woman's kiss?'' There was a glint of possessiveness and curiosity in his purple eyes. ''Has anyone touched you besides me, dear niece?'' His palm slid to my ass.

I blushed.

''Alicent was my first kiss, and Laena…'' I kept quiet and was more embarrassed by the wild way he was looking at me now. ''Let's just say that our cousin had already asked me to suck her off before she met and started being courted by Ser Harwin… And she also masturbated me a few times and kissed me good luck before I came here.'' I confessed almost voicelessly. ''And it would be rude to say no to a noble lady, right, kepus?''

Daemon's eyes took on a dark, lustful hue, and his touch became more possessive of my body. I could already feel him hardening beneath me.

''My little dragon isn't so innocent and has already experienced some good things in life.'' He said slowly, with a predatory smile on his lips. I swallowed, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. ''While you weren't mine, you were free to experience whatever you wanted, but now, only I can kiss you, touch you, and possess you wherever we want. Do you understand that, my love?'' Daemon held my chin, keeping my gaze fixed on his.

Desire had already settled in my belly, and the fire began to consume me.

''Yes, kepus.''

Daemon smiled broadly.

''Good, very good, sweet, and beautiful niece.'' He kissed my cheek almost innocently and pulled away. The predatory smile still played on the lips I so longed to kiss at that moment. ''Now, please tell me how you managed to convince the king's pussy to annul my marriage to the Bronze Bitch.''

Still dazed by the fact that my provocation had backfired, I took a deep breath to reorganize my mind and licked my lips. However, the fiery way Daemon was running his eyes over my face and squeezing my thigh with his large hand wasn't helping me at all.

''Love?'' Daemon encouraged me.

I swallowed, and he let out an ironic laugh.

By the Valyrian gods, how can he be so hot?

''Well…'' I blinked and concentrated harder. ''Over the last few months, I had started going to the Eagle's Nest more often, under the pretext that I felt closer to Muña being there, close to my lovely cousin Jeyne.'' I had to laugh when I saw Daemon grimace at the mention of Jeyne, but then I got serious. ''Kepus, I was honest with her and told her that I needed her help to get an annulment so that I could marry you.''

Daemon raised an eyebrow and muttered dismissively:

''Your cousin hates me, love, so I imagine she must have thought you were crazy or that I was manipulating her.''

I smiled encouragingly and shook my head.

''In fact, Uncle, my cousin hates you.'' I winked and kissed his cheek. ''But she adores me.'' I teased him and became serious again, with a familiar melancholy rising in my chest. '' told her how my muña was murdered in her birthing bed, at the behest of the king, and how I'm afraid I'll suffer the same fate as her if I marry any other man.'' I sighed softly. ''I went on to say that you are perfect to be my husband, king consort and father of my children.''

Daemon remained silent as I got up and stood between his legs, wrapping my arms around his head. He rested his forehead on my stomach and wrapped his arms around my legs. I began to stroke his long, loose hair.

''She hesitated and became suspicious of your fame, Daemon.'' I continued in a whisper. ''And the dismissive and hateful way you treated Rhea didn't help, but I managed to convince her that I knew what I was doing and that you had no idea of my plans. With your lovely ex-wife...'' I laughed, and Daemon snorted loudly in disgust. ''I was more direct and asked her if she'd like to get rid of you, Uncle.''

Daemon moved his face a little away from my stomach, raised his head, and gave me a wry look.

''I can only imagine how sad she must have been to lose her husband.''

I smoothed his hair and left a kiss on his lips.

''Oh, uncle, she was so sad that she was about to start jumping for joy when she agreed to the annulment request.'' I scoffed, amused. ''Rhea never wanted to marry you. Although, in the early years, the mere mention of your name, Uncle, was enough to frighten and maintain a certain respect from those who wished to usurp her.

Daemon buried his face in my stomach again and squeezed me between his arms.

''She's hateful.'' His voice came out low and muffled.

''She also said something like that about you.'' I joked. ''The fact that the marriage was never consummated and your well-known contempt, uncle, meant that she began to lose the only advantage she had of being connected to you in some way.''

I licked my lips and shuddered a little the moment he squeezed my buttocks. ''Daemon!'' I slapped his good shoulder.

He laughed and bit my belly, covered by the thin fabric of my dress.

''You have a very tasty and beautiful ass, so I couldn't resist the urge to squeeze it, dear niece.''

I rolled my eyes, although I felt like laughing at his arrogance.

''As I was saying… Kepus!'' I protested as soon as he squeezed it a second time, and received a hoarse laugh in response. ''Behave yourself, Daemon!'' I demanded with a small smile. ''Anyway, she had a cousin who wanted to claim her right to be Lady of her House. So we made a deal that I would help her whenever there was an attempt to usurp her and burn some people if necessary. The gods helped me again, and I got rid of his cousin's pussy.''

Daemon released me to stand and held my face with his hands affectionately. There was a perverse glint in his curious eyes.

''And how did you get rid of the pussy, little dragon?''

I gave a small smile.

''Syrax burned it.'' I shrugged. Daemon laughed softly and shook his head. ''I hardly had to do anything. The bastard started swearing at me, calling me a royal whore for walking freely among men, and claimed that he would never kneel before a woman sitting on the Iron Throne. Fortunately, my golden lady was nearby and came to defend me from a violent man in front of so many witnesses.'' I sighed theatrically.

''You're an amazing, wicked, and ingenious little thing, my love.''

I stood on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately. I moaned softly the moment he squeezed my ass for the third time, and had to pull away immediately afterward in search of air. He was gasping softly like me and flashing a beautiful, arrogant smile.

''After that, they wrote letters to the king, asking for the marriage to be annulled.'' I began to play with the strands at the nape of his neck. ''Even so, Viserys didn't want anything annulled.'' I rolled my eyes. ''But I used the argument that he should, because it was the Lady Defender of the Vale and Lady Royce herself who were asking for the annulment, while you didn't even know about it. Finally, I added that you would probably leave Westeros forever when you found out you were free.''

I ran my hands over his strong chest, wrapped my arms around his waist, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his neck. Daemon didn't need to say anything for me to know how certain attitudes and words still hurt him. The way Viserys had always despised him, treating him so spitefully for no reason, and turning the Red Keep into a place my uncle couldn't consider home were unforgivable acts in my opinion.

''I had the immense pleasure of reminding the King how the scandal of his second marriage had made the Vale furious, so he shouldn't disrespect the request of his late wife's family again, while they would be one of the biggest supporters of my ascension to the throne, Uncle.'' I tilted my head back, looking him in the eye. ''During this time, the worm was in the Old Town, and the Goddess Syrax assured me that it would be the best time to manipulate the puppet in my favor.''

Daemon looked at me in such a profound way that it made my heart race and my legs go a little wobbly. I swallowed.

''So…'' He began to smile slowly, his purple eyes flooded with happiness and relief.

''I'm finally free of the hateful Bronze Bitch and can marry the woman I love in the tradition of our home?''

I cracked a huge smile and nodded positively.

''Yes, kepus.'' I put my hand on his cheek and ran my thumb over his lower lip. ''Daemon Targaryen, you're a free man of the Bronze Bitch and you can marry whoever you want.''

Daemon kneeled down in front of me, held my trembling hands, and smiled in a way that made his dimple appear.

''Well, since I'm a free man and can marry whoever I want, my sweet niece…'' There was a new, happy sparkle in his eyes. ''Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife according to the tradition of our house?''

Tears streamed down my face, and I shook my head repeatedly.

''Yes!''

My shout made the dragons raise their heads to look at us, and Daemon laughed out loud.

Now.

''I can almost hear your mind working hard this early, love.'' He whispered, his tone a little slow and husky. I cracked a sweet smile and turned my eyes to my fiancé's slightly crumpled face. ''Come here, Nyra.''

I crawled on top of him, resting my chin on his chest to see him better, and his calloused hands gripped my waist. Daemon had a lazy expression, his eyes slightly squinted, and a relaxed smile on his lips. I took a deep breath at the sight of my fiancé's beauty.

''Good morning, kepus.'' I kissed his chin and tilted my head to the side as his gaze darkened. ''What is it, love?'' I frowned, confused, feeling him tense beneath me.

Daemon touched my cheek, which had been hit by the pirate's punch the day before, and I could feel the anger overwhelming him.

''I would love to be able to revive the bastard who dared to hurt you so that I could simply torture him and kill him with my bare hands, Rhaenyra.''

I sat on his stomach and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. Daemon relaxed immediately.

''Unfortunately, that won't be possible, but don't worry, Uncle, I had the pleasure of cutting your head off with the Heart of Fire.'' I blink and jump out of bed. He let out an irritated grumble and lay on his side, looking at me with a little pout. ''Get up, Daemon; we've got a long day ahead of us with Vaemond's pussy saying useless things.''

Grudgingly, Daemon dragged himself out of bed and came to hug me tightly.

''Hm...'' Kepus buried his face in my neck and kissed the sensitive skin. I shivered and had to hold onto his shoulders to keep myself upright. ''Only my fiancée could stop me from cutting off that arrogant man's head.'' Daemon grumbled, his voice bored and muffled.

A short while later, we had breakfast together, and I went to my own tent to change before meeting Daemon, Uncle Corlys and the other men. We were going to discuss again a strategy that would succeed in eliminating the Crabfeeder and their pirates once and for all. I was just finishing putting the Fire Heart around my waist when I heard a small commotion outside.

''Princess Rhaenyra?'' I was called urgently.

I immediately recognized it as the healer's assistant, Luli, and rushed over to see what was going on. Furthermore, I found the boy a little pale and wide-eyed.

''What's wrong?'' I asked, frowning in confusion. ''What's going on, Jaime? Is Laenor all right?''

Jaime agreed quickly.

''Yes, yes, Ser Laenor is fine, Princess.'' He then became more nervous. ''Healer Luli sent me here to warn you that a ship bearing the banner of House Targaryen has been seen approaching, and Prince Daemon is not happy.''

I widened my eyes.

''Damn it!'' I let go, because I knew that nothing good would come from the arrival of a ship from King's Landing. ''Shit!'' I cursed and ran off to find my groom.

♛

Notes:

In the next chapter, Criston Cole appears to the delight of zero people.
See you soon!

Chapter 19: Chapter 14.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! I'm back much faster, amen!

Please tell me if the writing is good. I used ChatGPT to help me translate this chapter and I really need to know if I succeeded.

Now, happy reading!

♛

Chapter 14.

‘’My beautiful and charming niece was the reincarnated image of Queen Visenya Targaryen.’’

Stepstones , 113 AC.

As if the Valyrian God of War incarnated before us, in all his glory and power, Daemon Targaryen maintained an arrogant posture, an indecipherable expression, and his violet eyes fixed on the sea. The black armor — with details reminiscent of dragon scales adorning his broad shoulders and strong chest — contrasted beautifully with his pale skin. His silver hair, braided, fell down his back.

He rested his hand on the hilt of the Dark Sister at his waist.

He was the image of a true Warrior Prince.

I licked my lips and sighed softly, still admiring him in silence. Beside me, Laenor let out a discreet chuckle, and I rolled my eyes at him. My cousin was fine, but his shoulder would still be immobilized for a few days. He had forced Ser Joffrey to bring him to the beach when murmurs of a ship from King's Landing, bearing the Targaryen flag, began to spread.

— Our cousin really looks handsome with that face of someone who will kill the first person who annoys him while wearing that black armor. — Laenor commented casually in High Valyrian. I raised an eyebrow and looked at his amused expression. — Oh, cousin, I'm just admiring the beauty of the Rogue Prince.

I rolled my eyes, clicked my tongue, and teased in a playful whisper:

— Do you think Ser Joffrey would like to know that you are admiring my fiancé right in front of him, cousin? — I smiled, falsely innocent. — Maybe I should tell your beloved, right? — I tilted my head slightly to the side.

Laenor widened his eyes a bit and glanced briefly at his lover, then turned his attention back to me. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at his scared expression and flushed cheeks.

— I was just joking, Princess. — Laenor murmured hastily. — No need to say anything to Joffrey. — He looked at me a bit scared.

I gave a mischievous smile and was about to tease my dear cousin a bit more, but the sudden way Laenor became serious and turned his gaze to the sea silenced me.

I turned in the same direction.

All my little good humor vanished, giving way to a hint of nervousness mixed with a lot of annoyance. Despite already knowing that Viserys would not respect my decision to help my uncle, I had a brief glimmer of hope that maybe he could have a little faith in my choices and respect what I decided this time. Besides, I made it clear that I would return to King's Landing after we defeated the Triarchy.

— There is likely to be some bloodshed with the arrival of those bastards sent by the King. — Kepus murmured, his tone hard and angry, as I stopped by his side. Keeping my hand on the hilt of Fire Heart as a kind of support, I glanced at him sideways and nodded. Daemon continued to stare at the sea. — I will not allow anyone to take you away against your will, little dragon. — He looked at me quickly.

I gave a discreet smile to my fiancé and nodded again. The shadow of a smile passed briefly over Daemon's lips. I wanted to hug him, gently touch his irritated face, and massage the tense wrinkle between his furrowed brows, but I couldn't. Although it was an open secret that I spent some nights in kepus' tent and Laenor, Joffrey, and Uncle Corlys knew about our engagement, we didn't want any other news, true or not, to leave Stepstones and reach King's Landing.

The sea breeze was strong and blew my loose hair back like a silver mantle.

It took some time for the ship from King's Landing to finally get close to the beach. The large and majestic royal vessel stopped a few meters from the shallow part, and a rowboat touched the water with some men on board. I frowned as I unfortunately recognized the curly brown hair of the leader of the Kingsguard. He wore the usual well-polished armor, and the pristine white cloak hung from his shoulders.

I felt his dark gaze fixed on my figure, standing next to Daemon.

— Damn. — I cursed softly and looked at my uncle. Daemon's scowl had deepened, and his violet eyes shone dangerously. I could recognize the thirst for violence and revenge pulsing in his veins. — Kepus?

Daemon didn't look at me, very focused on the small boat reaching the shore, but his lips twisted into a small, dangerous smile.

— Yes, my love?

I tucked the strand behind my ear and murmured as softly as the surrounding breeze:

— Just don't kill Ser Crispin, because that will make the king send more bastards here.

His smile became more explicit.

— I will do as my fiancée wishes.

♛

By Daemon Targaryen.

Rhaenyra kept her chin up, her posture straight and confident, her lilac eyes fixed on our unwanted visitors, and her hand resting on the hilt of Fire Heart. The riding outfit, made entirely of black leather, hugged her curvaceous body, and her long, loose silver curls made her look like a true Dragon Queen. She exuded power and command without needing to say a single word out loud; just one look from her was enough to make everyone kneel at her feet.

My beautiful and charming niece was the reincarnated image of Queen Visenya Targaryen, the Conqueror, as all the men murmured among themselves over the days.

She was a true delight to the eyes, the boldest would say when I turned my back.

Rhaenyra's arrival, mounted on a wild dragon and accompanied by her golden lady, when I was wounded by a bastard in Stepstones, caused a great stir in the camp. Already recovered, Corlys told me in more detail how my niece put Vaemond's bastard in his place, gaining the trust and respect of our men. She showed that the blood of the House of the Dragon ran as violently hot and thick in her veins as it did in mine.

‘’— There is no denying that the Princess Heir is indeed your niece and my wife's, my prince. — Corlys laughed heartily. — Rhaenyra is made of the same burning fire as you and Rhaenys.’’

At first, I didn't want her on the battlefield and asked her to return to King's Landing for her safety. On the other hand, I should have known, knowing my little dragon so well, that Rhaenyra would never listen to me and would still find good arguments to stay by my side in Stepstones.

‘’— Kepus, as long as I am here with you, the King will not be able to force me to marry the Prince of Dorne. — She murmured a few days ago, her lilac eyes wide and her expression scared. — Besides, you and I already know who I want to marry. — A clever smile appeared on her red lips.’’

I would burn King's Landing and all of Dorne if my brother promised Rhaenyra's hand to the damned Prince Qoren. I would never allow another man to touch her, kiss her, claim her as his own, be her husband, and plant his seed inside her to give her children. The Princess Heir chose me, she wanted me, so I would never allow another to dare marry my woman.

And my decision to keep her in the Stepstones, under my protection, brought us to this moment.

My fiancée stood by my side, silent, her attention fixed on the Royal bastards who began to walk across the sand towards us. Behind us were Corlys, his brother's bastard, and our warriors. No one said anything out loud, despite the palpable annoyance and disdain each man felt at the arrival of a ship sent by King Viserys.

The time had passed when each of us looked to the horizon and called upon our own Gods for any help from the Crown.

Finally, Crispin Cole and his dogs arrived where we stood. They kept a few meters away, with the Dornish bastard in front as the leader. His dark eyes studied me, the Dark Sister at my waist, and the men behind me in a quick analysis. His attention fell completely on Rhaenyra. He tried to be discreet, as he was a Kingsguard who had taken a vow of chastity, but I saw how he appreciated her for a brief moment with desire.

The bastard desired my woman!

A furious growl stuck in my chest. I was about to draw the Dark Sister to show the bastard what happens to those who look at my woman with desire, but the small, warm hand on my chest stopped me. Boiling with rage and frustration, I turned my head to meet Rhaenyra's serious and cold eyes watching me back.

— He disgusts me too, and I've wanted to cut off his head for a long time, but we need to know exactly why the King sent him here, uncle. — She let out a frustrated sigh and removed her hand from my chest. — As I said before: we don't need Viserys to send more ships, which will happen if you kill that bastard now.

Still reluctantly, I agreed with a barely perceptible nod, and she briefly smiled at me. I had to resist the urge to throw Rhaenyra over my shoulder and take her to our tent to claim her entirely as mine. Hell! As if she knew of my internal struggle, her smile turned mischievous. She raised an eyebrow before resuming an indifferent expression and looking coldly at our guests.

I turned to face them as well.

— What brings you and your little friends to us in Stepstones, Ser Crispin? — I was the first to break the silence that surrounded us.

My fiancée laughed softly. The presumptuous expression of the Dornish bastard faded, giving way to a slight scowl of annoyance. There were loud, mocking laughs from behind us.

— Since we were not informed, we did not expect such illustrious visitors in our current home. — I explained with biting sarcasm and gestured to the camp behind me. — So, we have no accommodations left for King Viserys' Kingsguard.

Crispin's furious scowl deepened, and he took a step forward, wanting to draw his sword to challenge me. I raised an eyebrow, keeping my arms crossed, and smiled more openly when a familiar scream echoed around us. The bastard paled, freezing in place, and raised his head to the high mountain on my left. His little friends backed away, as horrified as their leader, with trembling hands on the hilt of their swords.

I didn't need to turn around to know it was my boy making his grand entrance. Although Caraxes couldn't fly for the next few days, he had left his shared nest with Syrax and was crawling down the mountain, coming towards us. His anger mixed with mine, making everything more intense and almost uncontrollable for me. Since I couldn't yet feed the Dark Sister with the bastard's blood, I wished I could punch him in the face and show him how to take down an opponent fairly.

Even after four years, my blood still burned with hatred as I recalled how the bastard attacked me from behind at Baelon III's name day tournament, and my idiot brother chose Ser Crispin to be my niece's sworn shield afterward.

My disdain for Viserys seemed never-ending.

When Caraxes reached a pile of rocks a few meters away from us, he swung his long neck, turned his triangular head with sharp horns, and let out a fierce growl that echoed across the beach. Then he continued down, making our own men get out of his way, and snorted discontentedly as he reached my side on some lower rocks. He turned his head and stared at the Knights of King's Landing with his wild yellow eyes.

I smiled at my show-off boy.

— Perfect timing to show up, my friend. — I gave his neck a light pat. Caraxes turned his head to stare at me while his tail struck the rocks, shattering them. My old friend was clearly irritated by the unwelcome presence. — Hmm, they came all the way from King’s Landing to try to take my fiancée away, you know, old boy? If Nyra leaves, Syrax will have to go too.

Caraxes’ anger tripled and engulfed me as if I were consumed by his flames. Thoroughly annoyed, he roared loudly, making some men let out cries of fear. I chuckled at his possessiveness over his golden lady. Indeed, dragons were territorial and fiercely possessive of their mates.

Caraxes and I were the perfect example of territorial and possessive dragons. He with his Syrax, and I with my fiancée.

Then, my Blood Wyrm extended only his long neck toward the terrified Dornishman and opened his mouth, baring his sharp and deadly teeth. He growled right in the bastard’s face. His little friends stepped back, two falling onto the sand, and one wetting himself.

The brave, famous, and loyal Kingsguard of King Viserys I Targaryen were utterly terrified of my boy’s ferocity.

My grin grew wider.

— Uncle, if Caraxes eats Ser Crispin now, we’ll be in trouble, unfortunately. — Rhaenyra remarked in a low, amused tone. I glanced at her sideways; my fiancée maintained an indifferent expression, but there was a mischievous little smirk on her tempting lips. — Though I suppose Caraxes might get indigestion from eating the Queen’s lover.

I raised an eyebrow.

The White Cloak bastard was the Queen Hightower’s lover? The King’s fool was being betrayed right under his nose?

Not entirely surprised and very much entertained, I looked at my woman and received an openly ironic smile in return. While Caraxes continued to glare at our visitors, my mind wandered slightly, focusing on the full, red lips of the stunning Valyrian woman before me. Damn it! A familiar heat began to stir in my belly, and my cock hardened. Her lilac eyes darkened slightly, and my niece raised an eyebrow as if daring me to act.

A growl began to form in my chest.

— Cousins? — Laenor faked a loud cough, breaking our exchange of glances. I shot an angry glare at the Velaryon boy. — Caraxes is going to end up eating or burning the Princess’s shield, cousin. — He timidly pointed at the red dragon.

Damn it!

I huffed and turned my head toward my dragon, who hadn’t moved an inch away from the White Cloak. His brilliant, fierce yellow eyes followed every movement. Pride bubbled in my chest. Ser Crispin barely seemed to breathe, and his bronzed skin grew paler with each passing second.

The bastard only needed to faint now.

Scoffing at the thought, I rolled my eyes.

— Caraxes? — I called in an emotionless murmur, crossing my arms again. His red tail struck the rocks harder, crushing them. — You can’t eat or burn this fool today. Back off, Caraxes. — I ordered reluctantly.

Through our bond, I felt the wave of indignation and annoyance that washed over him. I could almost hear him mentally huff and call me stupid. One of the things I intended to do once the war was over, and we could return to Dragonstone was to perform Queen Visenya’s ritual.

— Caraxes, if you kill this idiot, the King will send more ships here, and there’s a good chance Syrax and I will have to leave to ensure kepus doesn’t have trouble with the Crown. So please, don’t burn this idiot today. — My fiancée asked the deadly beast so sweetly. Caraxes huffed, cast me another irritated glance, and backed away from the White Cloak. — Thank you, my handsome boy! — She smiled just for him.

The wave of satisfaction that radiated from my dragon made me frown as smoke billowed from his nostrils, and he rested his head beside me. Caraxes seemed flattered and utterly charmed by Rhaenyra calling him “my handsome boy.” He blew warm air at me and nudged my shoulder with his snout as if that was exactly how he felt.

— So, Ser Crispin, what brings you and the King’s Guard to the Stepstones? — Rhaenyra asked indifferently. Her voice was firm, authoritative, with a sharp undertone of irritation. She stepped forward, and a stronger breeze swept a few curls back. — I thought the King made it very clear in his last letter to Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys that the Crown could not support them in this war. — She gestured toward the men behind us.

A wave of discontented murmurs followed the words of the Princess Heir. Briefly, Ser Crispin locked his dark eyes on the ragged warriors before turning his focus back to her. The mix of desire, irritation, and annoyance was evident in his expression. Like me, Nyra knew his name was Criston, but she considered him too insignificant to call him by his proper name.

In the gray skies of the Stepstones, amid the dark, rain-laden clouds, a golden glow appeared, accompanied by a massive, unmistakable shadow. Syrax and Tennebris were close enough to intervene and protect their rider if necessary.

— It’s Ser Criston, my princess. — Crispin corrected her with a stiff bow. Anger surged within me as I clenched the hilt of Dark Sister for balance. — We are here to escort you safely back to King’s Landing under express orders from King Viserys. — He continued, signaling to one of the White Cloaks. The knight stumbled as he handed a letter to the Dornish bastard before quickly retreating. — His Grace sent a letter for you, Princess Rhaenyra.

I restrained my natural instinct to follow her as Rhaenyra stepped away to take the letter extended by Crispin Cole. She snatched the letter from his hands without meeting his gaze and returned to stand by my side. Her small, skillful fingers, adorned with delicate rings, quickly broke the royal seal, opening the parchment in seconds. The expression on my fiancée’s face grew darker and angrier with each line, her lilac eyes read of the words written by the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

— Tell my father that I will only return to King’s Landing alongside my uncle, Prince Daemon, once the war is won, Ser Cole. — She murmured in a falsely controlled tone. I knew how hard my niece was trying to keep her composure and not behead the bastard herself. — The King is already aware of the reasons that brought me to the Stepstones, so I suggest you all return to your ship and leave.

My woman held herself upright and spoke with the poise expected of a lady in her royal position. Yet, I knew her well enough to see how furious and offended she was by her father’s command. I frowned slightly and pulled the slightly crumpled letter from her almost clenched fist.

— Princess, King Viserys is not asking for your return; he is demanding it immediately.

Nyra openly smiled, tilted her head to the side, and rested her hand on the hilt of Fire Heart.

— Oh, is that so, Ser Crispin? — She mocked, narrowing her eyes dangerously. There were no words to describe the pride I felt for my little dragon. — And where is my father at this moment? The King of the Seven Kingdoms? I don’t see him anywhere to force me to leave or do anything against my will. Besides, I’m perfectly fine and safe here.

The Queen Hightower’s lover was about to retort, but he was interrupted by Syrax’s loud, frightening roar. The sudden arrival of two more dragons caused yet another wave of commotion among the newcomers. While Syrax was already familiar to the White Cloaks, it was the imposing and monstrous presence of Tennebris that left them even more terrified. The Golden Lady remained in the sky, circling above us slowly and letting out warning cries whenever she deemed it necessary.

My fiancée’s smile was satisfied at the sight.

The powerful black wings of the old emerald-eyed dragon caused a short gust of wind around us, forcing our men to take several steps back. The White Cloaks stared at him with even more horror than they had shown for Caraxes. Rhaenyra didn’t move a muscle; her beautiful silver curls danced around her in the wind, and she didn’t avert her challenging gaze from Crispin.

The ground shook beneath Tennebris’ weight as he landed, his sharp claws digging into the muddy sand. He lowered his horned head in her direction. Nyra looked at him and shook her head, which seemed to irritate him. The dragon clicked his jaw, growled low, and glared at our visitors as a green glow began to build in his throat.

— Not today, Tenny, I’m afraid. — Rhaenyra whispered sweetly to Tennebris.

The Princess Heir even placed her hand on the beast’s neck, to the horror of the newcomers. When she turned to face them again, the affectionate smile was gone, her expression once more indifferent, with a coldness dominating her expressive lilac eyes.

— As you and the other knights have seen firsthand, Ser Crispin, besides having Prince Daemon by my side... — She gestured toward me. — I am more than capable of defending myself. I also command two beautiful and deadly dragons, who will not hesitate to kill and burn anyone I command them to. — There was an explicit threat in her murmur.

The Dornishman was stopped from speaking again at the exact moment Tennebris, Syrax, and Caraxes let out a simultaneous roar. The black dragon’s tail struck a rock near the White Cloaks, shattering it and scaring them even further. Taking advantage of the distraction, I finally opened the letter sent by Viserys and began to read.

"Rhaenyra, I am ordering your return to King’s Landing the very moment you read this letter. I have sent Ser Criston Cole to bring you home, under my express command, and drag by your hair if necessary.

In exchange for your obedience and smooth return, I will be sending the remnants of some food from the Red Keep to give to your uncle and his men, as was so insistently requested of the Crown.

King Viserys I Targaryen."

At first, I stared at the letter in disbelief.

I had to read it again to confirm that the letter wasn’t written by that worm Otto or the Hightower whore. On the other hand, I knew Viserys’ handwriting well enough to recognize that he himself had written every word. The bastard, who wore the crown of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, gave that coward the freedom to drag the Princess Heir—my woman—to King’s Landing by her hair if necessary.

I wished so badly that the idiot King was standing in front of me so I could punch him in the face and show him that no one would ever lay a hand on Rhaenyra.

How dare he give such authority to that White Cloak coward?

A rage I had never experienced in 28 name days awakened within me and began to take control of my mind.

It felt as if a dragon that had been sleeping for ages was now stirring, ravenous, and thirsty for the blood of its enemy. I didn’t care about yet another insult Viserys hurled at me or the men fighting against the Triarchy to defend his damn realm. Not at all. However, the authority the idiot King gave to the insignificant man standing before me and the way he himself treated the only daughter he claimed to love so much—I wouldn’t let it slide.

Rhaenyra asked me not to kill him, didn’t she?

— I will not return, Ser. — My niece retorted loudly, irritated. Her flushed cheeks and furrowed brows showed just how close she was to losing her patience entirely. — I will not leave the Stepstones until this war is finished, nor am I in any danger while by my uncle’s side, a Prince of the Blood to whom you owe great respect. None of the dragons present will harm me.

I took one last look at Rhaenyra's displeased expression and crouched to pick up a helmet lying at my feet.

I moved toward Crispin before he could say anything or anyone could think to stop me. His eyes widened the moment he noticed me, and he tried to draw his sword, but I knocked him to the ground as soon as I slammed the helmet into his nose. I could hear the bone break, and blood spurted out. I didn’t give him time to recover or defend himself, and kept beating him with the helmet, channeling all the rage pulsing inside me.

Furthermore, I saw the bastard in red and acted on instinct.

A small part of my mind, clouded by fury and bloodlust, registered that the White Cloaks had drawn their swords to defend Crispin, but Caraxes pushed them back, stepping between us and warning them with growls. I kept hitting the wretch until I felt hands grabbing my arms and the helmet slipping from my grasp.

— Let me go, damn it! — I growled at them. — Now!

Corlys's eyes were wide, as if he'd never seen me before.

— You nearly killed him, Daemon, — he accused in a whisper.

I gave an ironic smile and looked down at the White Cloak sprawled at my feet like a heap of trash in Flea Bottom. Crispin seemed to be unconscious, groaning in pain. The Dornishman's face was a bloody mess, with deep gashes and dark bruises. His dark hair, white coat, and armor were soaked in his own blood.

Satisfaction flooded me.

— Yes, Corlys, you said it right, nearly killed him, — I retorted, still seething with rage. I shoved the men holding me off with a sharp motion and drew Dark Sister, pointing the ancestral blade at the Dornishman's companions. — Take this piece of shit and go back to King's Landing right now! And tell King Viserys that the Princess Heir is here because she chooses to be and will leave only when she decides. Are we clear?

They hesitated, but Caraxes's growl snapped them back to reality. Three of them picked up Crispin's still-unconscious body, while the last one gave me a clumsy bow.

— As you command, my prince.

They climbed into the rowboat and began paddling away faster than they had arrived. Though I kept my eyes on them, I felt her approach and stopped silently at my side. For a moment, I feared she might feel frightened by my outburst and decide to leave for Dragonstone or Driftmark. My niece knew the reputation that followed me like a shadow, making me more feared than respected wherever I went.

My heart clenched with the fear that she might leave me.

— Do you know something, kepus? — Rhaenyra asked softly.

With a deep sigh, I mustered the courage to turn my face to her. Contrary to what I had thought, there was neither judgment nor fear in the soft lilac eyes before me. A wave of calm washed over me as I saw the small, gentle smile on her cherry-red lips. I swallowed the urge to kiss her in front of everyone.

— What, my love? — I whispered back in High Valyrian.

She held my arm with both hands and rested her head on my shoulder.

— I can’t remember the last time someone defended me like you just did — she murmured softly, tightening her grip on my arm slightly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. — So, thank you for defending me from that son of a bitch, uncle.

My first response was to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pull her into my chest, and kiss her forehead.

— I will always defend you, my love.

Rhaenyra was the first person to truly see me through the armor of the infamous Rogue Prince. Despite knowing all of my terrible reputation and flaws, she chose me to stand by her side as her husband, the father of her children, and one day, her King Consort.

In 28 name days, the Dragon Princess was the first to want me and love me, regardless of my few virtues and countless flaws.

♛

 

Notes:

For me, the fact that Crispin has captured Daemon is the height of happiness.

See you soon!

Chapter 20: Chapter 15.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! I'm back with another chapter!

Important notice: there will be explicit deaths and a lot of swearing.

And what do you think of the translation? Is it good? I'm using AI again to help me with the translation.

I will put the link to the playlist I created for the story on Spotify. It's in Portuguese, but it’s for the fanfic. I hope you like it.

♛

Chapter 15.

"There was a small corner smile on my fiancé's lips."

Stepstones , 113 AC.

The stress was immense and almost palpable inside the War Council tent. The men gathered around the large table, where a map of the Stepstones islands lay, and grew more discontent, irritable, and without strategies as time passed.

The current atmosphere was further negatively influenced by the recent visit of Ser Crispin Cole, sent by the Puppet King, and Daemon’s explosion toward the Kingsguard that morning. I neither blamed nor reproached my fiancé for beating the Queen Hightower’s lover. On the contrary, it was the first time in a long while that I had someone defend me from another person.

Many would simply see and point a finger at Daemon's actions, claiming he acted violently when a man had done nothing to deserve such a reaction from the infamous Rogue Prince. We both knew how his actions would have a negative impact in the Court, the Small Council, and in the ears of King Viserys himself. Even though these men had no real interest in knowing the true story behind us, it would only take a few false truths whispered for the fire of gossip and accusations to spread.

I could already imagine how Queen Hightower would be ecstatic as soon as she heard the news told by the cunt of her father. Without a doubt, she would sit with her gossipy and frivolous ladies-in-waiting in the garden of the Divine Grove. She would “innocently” comment on how Prince Daemon assaulted a gentle and loyal Kingsguard knight for no reason while they drank tea and enjoyed various flavors of cakes.

Then, the words so "innocently" spoken would begin to circulate the halls of the Red Keep and spread through the streets of King's Landing like a fire in dry hay.

If there were no silent counterattacks, no one would ever know that Daemon protected me in his own way from the King's express orders, my father’s, to the man he himself chose to be my Sworn Sword. Since they were so willing to tarnish my fiancé’s name and reputation, I would also use my contacts and means of espionage to defend Daemon and myself from such slander.

Healer Luli was very helpful in assisting me to write a letter to the Black Canary. I told her everything that happened, with the most important details. With a big smile, he offered to send the raven personally to Daemon’s spy network leader.

Remembering exactly what Viserys had written helped me craft all the details I wanted Lisye to spread, both to the nobles and to the common people."

"Rhaenyra, I am ordering your return to King's Landing the moment you are reading this letter. I have sent Ser Criston Cole to bring you home, under my express command, even dragging you by the hair if necessary.

In exchange for your obedience and a smooth return, I will be sending the remains of some food from the Red Keep to give to your uncle and his men, as was so requested by the Crown.

King Viserys I Targaryen."

I read the letter only once, and hours later, I could still recall with precision everything Viserys had written with his own hand. He allowed an insignificant man, like Crispin Cole, to have the freedom to forcibly take me to King's Landing and drag me by my hair if necessary. However, what angered me the most, what boiled my blood, was the part where the Puppet King claimed to have sent leftovers from the Red Keep to my uncle.

How much did people truly matter to King Viserys I Targaryen?

It was a brief question I asked myself a little later, for Viserys had no shame in saying how much he loved me, his dear daughter, and Heir to the Iron Throne.

Had Viserys ever felt anything beyond anger and baseless contempt for Daemon in his entire life?

— We’re hesitating, and the Triarchy knows this. We must pressure the attack. — Lord Cunt, better known as Vaemond, murmured. He moved a crab’s claw and positioned it over a spot on the map, which I couldn’t see from where I was sitting. — We need to keep sending the dragons to burn those bastards!

Around the table with the map of the Stepstones islands, Daemon, Corlys, and a few other men were discussing ways to lure the pirates and Craghas Drahar himself out of the mountain. If the leader were killed, our enemies would be easier to eliminate. However, the biggest problem was that Craghas Drahar was never seen outside the caves. He always sent his lackeys to face us.

Four dragons were our greatest attack-defense force, but also what kept the bastards hidden and protected. Despite killing many pirates, burning ships, and scorpions' weapons, the war still seemed like it would never have a definitive end.

— It’s useless. — I commented distractedly. I continued spinning the Valyrian steel dagger, a gift Kepus gave me during our current courtship period, between my fingers. I kept my eyes on what I was doing. — We and they both know there are four dragons on these islands, killing, burning, destroying, and leaving chaos behind. However, Craghas Drahar and a good number of his lackeys are still well hidden, sheltered in the few or many caves of the largest mountain.

All the men fell silent, and I felt their eyes on me, silently. When we reached the War Council tent, I only whispered to Daemon that I would stay in a corner to rest a bit and would not participate actively in the meeting. Although part of my mind was still affected by the encounter earlier and plotting plans to deal with the snakes of King’s Landing, I paid attention to what was being discussed among them.

— What do you mean? — Daemon was the first to speak. There was genuine interest in his question. — We’d like to hear what you think, Princess.

Someone huffed softly, and I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Lord Cunt. I gave a brief ironic smile because since I had pointed Fire Heart at his neck, he hadn’t looked in my direction or dared cross my path. He also didn’t grumble to Uncle Corlys about my presence on the battlefield.

— Of course, Uncle Daemon.

I stood up and sheathed the dagger in its leather scabbard on my waist. Daemon’s purple eyes sparkled as they met mine, and a brief smile decorated his lips as I stood beside him in front of the table. He was still wearing his black armor, which was a temptation for my sinful thoughts. My body stayed alert, waiting for any touch from him. Damn! I sighed quietly and forced myself to stay focused on the map in front of me.

— Craghas Drahar has created a choke point here... — I moved a stone to place it over the mentioned point and looked up to the left of the map. — The enemy archers are in the mountain, the soldiers attack from the beaches, and we retaliate with dragons from the sky and our men on the ground. — I raised my head and looked at every face present. — Do you see how every battle turns into an endless loop? We attack, kill some, and many still remain safe in the caves.

Uncle Corlys analyzed every detail with his serious purple eyes, furrowed brows, and lips pressed together. Lord Cunt had a scornful expression, so I pretended he wasn’t even in the same tent as me. I turned my head to look at Kepus, and I found him deeply focused on the mountain that Craghas Drahar had used as a hideout for the past two years. Daemon had his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.

So sexy.

I held back a passionate sigh.

— So, we would need to give Craghas Drahar a reason to come out? — Laenor asked, somewhat confused. I looked at him immediately. — Everything you’ve said and pointed out is true, but how do we bring him out? If he didn’t come out when it was just Seasmoke and Caraxes, he certainly won’t show himself now with Tennebris and Syrax, cousin. We’ll have to give them a reason to come out, but what? — His gaze flickered briefly toward Daemon.

With my hands on the table, a cold shiver ran up my spine, and my stomach twisted negatively. A few nights ago, I had a nightmare that made me wake up disoriented in my tent, completely soaked in sweat, and ready to run to Daemon to make sure he wasn’t injured again. Syrax and Tennebris had to intervene and calm me mentally, making me realize nothing had actually happened.

In the nightmare, Daemon died after offering himself as bait to lure Craghas Drahar out of the mountain. Though he had been hit by some arrows again, it was a sword thrust into his back that stole his life and took him away from me forever.

Fools are those who ignore the warnings the Valyrian Gods send in the form of dreams, or think they’re good omens.

— No, Laenor. — My tone came out a little dry, and I focused my attention on the map. — When flying on Tennebris or Syrax, I noticed that Craghas Drahar’s cave only has three exits for him to use as escape routes. — I took a crab claw and placed it over the front opening, which was to the south. — This is the main entrance that we all know.

Feeling a bit unsure, I looked at Daemon, and he nodded at me. His smile calmed me a little and brought a new wave of courage. Taking a deep breath, I continued with a serious and focused tone:

— However, there is also a second, smaller, and more hidden entrance on the eastern side of the mountain. — I placed a stone in that location and dragged another crab claw to the next spot. — The third and final entrance is to the west. It’s behind some rocks, but it is visible from a dragon’s back if you’re paying close attention.

Actually, I had only noticed the second entrance, and it was Syrax who told me about the third one.

— So, what do you suggest, niece? — Daemon murmured and moved closer, getting very near to me. His gaze danced over the three points marked on the map. — What should we do, Rhaenyra? — He looked at me with great interest and fascination.

I fought not to blush.

I broke the connection of our gaze, crossing my arms, and focused on the face of each man present. Furthermore, I made a point of pausing a few extra seconds on Lord Cunt and let the ghost of a scornful smile briefly appear on my face. Finally, I looked at my fiancé again, and my heart raced with the intensity of how he continued to look back at me. I had to breathe deeply to organize my thoughts. I could still hear Laenor’s muffled chuckle.

— I suggest that instead of bringing the bastards out, we trap them inside the mountain, uncle. — I looked at him, chin held high and posture straight. The beginning of a sense of pride was trying to rise in my chest. — We’ve already burned all their ships and scorpion weapons, so Craghas Drahar will only be able to rely on what he has now, and we will destroy whatever else appears in the future to try to help him.

Daemon’s eyes sparkled with recognition and pride.

— And how are we going to trap them inside the mountain, Princess? — He raised an eyebrow. — It’s not like we can dig through the mountain or push rocks with our bare hands to block the three entrances. — There was a false tone of mockery in his low voice.

I licked my lips and broke into a sly smile, resting a hand on the table. The others present said nothing; it was just Daemon and I speaking at the moment.

— And who said we need to do that, Prince Daemon? — I tilted my head slightly and smiled more. — It’s true that the flames of Syrax, Seasmoke, and Caraxes aren’t powerful enough to melt the rocks. However, Tennebris is almost as old as Vhagar, so I know he’ll be able to melt whatever is necessary to cover the three entrances. We just have to split up to cover the other two areas and not allow anyone to escape.

At first, Daemon stared at me seriously, which started to make me nervous again and a little regretful for having opened my mouth. I looked back at him, without lowering my head or averting my gaze. I had to restrain myself from twirling the rings on my fingers. Most of the time, I tried to stay confident, something that could border on arrogance. However, among everyone present, I was a newcomer who had barely begun to see true war and wield a sword against enemies to kill them.

— Niece? — Daemon murmured, finally. — I see greatness in everything you’ve said and pointed out on the map for us.

Suddenly, I raised my head a little to look at him, and I found his purple eyes shining with fervor. There was a small smile at the corner of my fiancé’s lips and no trace of disappointment in his relaxed expression. At first, I was quite surprised. Although I always knew how attentively Daemon listened to me and gave sincere credit to my words, thoughts, and opinions.

Having spent the last two years fighting against a bunch of old men — who fervently believed that someone with a stick between their legs was smarter, stronger, and more capable than a woman — within the Small Council wore me down mentally and took away much of my confidence that I could win some battles through dialogue.

Now, the fact that Daemon Targaryen, a renowned Warrior Prince recognized both in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond the Narrow Sea, had said that my strategy was excellent brought a sense of power and acceptance I hadn’t expected to feel.

— You’ve given us a great idea. Now, we have a new strategy to start working on. — He continued and turned to the other men gathered around the table. They were watching us silently. — The Dragon Princess has just shown us a solution, and we have the means to make it a reality. But, if anyone here opposes what she has said, I demand you present a more effective strategy right now. — His challenging gaze flashed toward Vaemond.

Lord Cunt pressed his lips together and said nothing, finally looking away. Uncle Corlys stared at the map, the points I had marked, and then at my face. Keeping his attention fixed on me, a smile began to emerge on his normally grim face.

— My wife is always right, and once again, Rhaenys was correct when she said you will be a great queen one day, Rhaenyra. — He murmured, tilting his head slightly. Overcome with emotion, I did the same when he looked at me again. — Daemon, we have no objections to the strategy presented by the Dragon Princess, but we must refine the plan carefully, so there is no mistake in the execution.

With tears held back in my throat, from having my ideas recognized and valued, I shook my head, and we began debating the next steps of our plan.

♛

The cold rain had been falling non-stop over the Stepstones islands since late afternoon. The deep silence was broken by loud thunderclaps and the wind that seemed to howl as it passed through the tents outside. The darkness of the night was only faintly illuminated by the constant and strong lightning.

So, I should be sleeping, under animal skin blankets to keep warm against the cold, and not sitting in the darkest corner of my own tent. But no, this was not my current reality. In fact, I found myself sitting in an old chair, with Fire Heart resting on my lap, and playing with the dagger Daemon had given me just a few days ago, while I waited for the arrival of my illustrious visitors.

The prospect of facing the men sent to assassinate me should frighten me a bit, right?

It wasn’t long ago that I woke to the sweet and urgent voice of the Goddess Syrax whispering inside my head. She had been protecting and guiding me for the last four years, so I simply jumped out of bed, extinguished almost all the candles, and settled into the most hidden corner. From this point, I had a wide view of my tent.

"Wake now and eliminate those who will try to bring her down, my child!"

Although I should have found a way to warn my fiancé about my imminent visitors, I didn’t want to risk stepping out and being caught off guard by any mistake. Besides, Syrax and Tennebris would come to my aid if necessary. Through the bond we shared, I could sense how both dragons were restless and uneasy. Only held back by a thin thread from setting the whole camp on fire to keep me safe.

“Indeed, we should burn them all, Rhaenyra!” Tennebris’ indignant roar echoed in my mind, and I could feel Syrax agreeing with the black dragon. “Make them feel firsthand what happens to those who think or try to harm my girl.”

At first, I was taken by surprise and then deeply moved. Tennebris was a grumpy, impatient dragon, not openly affectionate like Syrax was with me. Yet there was no way I could not love him. Apparently, the feeling was mutual. A huge smile appeared on my face, momentarily forgetting about my visitors, and I teased him in a whisper in High Valyrian, knowing he would hear it through our bond:

“I love you too, my grumpy dragon.”

Tennebris let out an annoyed growl, which I would have laughed at if it weren’t for the very subtle and sudden movement at the entrance of the tent. There were no whispers or alarming movements from the newcomers. I only noticed there were three figures outside when a lightning bolt seemed to strike the island, illuminating them through the tent.

At that moment, unlike the adrenaline that usually surged through my veins and made my heart race during battles or while riding a dragon, I felt strangely calm. A brief smile tugged at my lips. I slid out of the chair, the soles of my feet touching the cold floor without making a sound, and I hid deeper in the shadows. I had swapped my long nightshirt for a pair of riding pants and a worn tunic.

Furthermore, I held Fire Heart in my right hand, with the dagger securely tucked into the waistband of my pants.

Another lightning strike cut through the sky, and its brightness revealed the first man. He entered silently, like a rat running through the secret tunnels of the Red Keep. Behind him, two others followed. Inside the tent, the darkness was even denser, and the lone candle barely illuminated the large space. The three men made their way straight to my bed, where I had left a pile of clothes beneath the furs to create the illusion that I was asleep, unaware of the danger awaiting me.

My smile widened.

The tallest assassin, apparently the leader, gestured for the pudgy one to lift the furs so he could strike me with his sword. Meanwhile, the third man stayed further back, approaching me without noticing. I stepped out of the shadows, walking silently without a single noise, and raised Fire Heart to deliver a single blow.

The sword, which had once belonged to Queen Rhaenys I Targaryen, cut through the air with a near-silent hum, and the Valyrian steel blade severed the third man’s head in two. The lifeless body fell at my feet, blood staining Fire Heart and splattering both my face and chest. I stared at the half-head near a chair without a trace of guilt. The man’s eyes were wide open in horror, staring into nothingness.

The leader advanced toward me, swinging his sword down toward my throat. I managed to block his powerful blow with Fire Heart, and the clash of the blades sparked briefly. I gasped softly, and my arms protested in pain from the immense effort exerted, as the assassin was tall and burly. He put more pressure on his blade, so I had to think quickly.

I turned to the side, the enemy’s sword grazing my arm, and pulled the dagger from my waist, driving the long, sharp blade deeply into his stomach. He let out a surprised grunt of pain, and I gasped in exhaustion. The second man, slightly shorter and leaner than the first, wasted no time and charged at me with an axe in hand. He swung the heavy weapon repeatedly toward my chest, though more slowly than if he were wielding a sword. I stepped back to avoid being hit, blindly stepping away.

He grunted angrily.

The lightning, which struck the camp and illuminated the tent, allowed me to notice that the leader had managed to pull my dagger out of his stomach. I ended up trapped between the two, with only Fire Heart in hand. The second assassin gave me a mocking smile, and I could already feel the other man nearly touching me.

Shit!

A ferocious, animalistic roar sounded louder than the storm itself. The entire tent structure trembled as a dragon swooped low over the camp. Two more roars followed after Tennebris, startling and distracting the two men even further. I took advantage of the distraction and acted quickly. I swung my sword at the second man and brought the blade down on the arm he held the axe with, slicing through it effortlessly.

Half of the limb fell at his feet, still gripping the axe, and blood began to pour out like a waterfall.

The man held what was left of his arm with his other hand and began to scream strangely. I spun on my heels to face the taller one and found him looking somewhat horrified. For an assassin, he seemed quite surprised by what I had done. He stared at me. His expression shifted into a scowl of hatred as he raised my own dagger to try to kill me.

— You’re really going to try to kill me with my own dagger? — I asked mockingly.

Before he could act, I kicked him between the legs, catching him off guard and making him gasp loudly. The bastard fell to his knees in front of me, hands clutching his groin as he whined in pain. My dagger fell to the floor, but I couldn’t crouch to retrieve it as the second assassin came at me from behind. His mistake was screaming like a damn amateur. I moved my body toward him, and the Valyrian blade sang through the air, meeting his neck.

— Shit! — I cursed as a hot spray of blood hit my face, neck, and the tangled braid in my hair. — How disgusting! — Irritated by the mess, I wiped one cheek to try to clean it. — Look at the mess you made, you son of a bitch! — I exclaimed in High Valyrian at the dead man.

The body lay in front of me, and the man's head was miraculously still attached to his shoulders by a piece of skin, which the Fire Heart had not cut through. I furrowed my brows slightly, looking at the scene at my feet. Finally, I turned to the leader and found him in the same position. He raised his head to look at me with horror, which made me smile with irony and sarcasm.

— What’s wrong, my angel? — I tilted my head and pressed the tip of my sword into his chest. I looked down at his belly, where blood was still running from the wound caused by the dagger. I looked back at him as he started muttering something incomprehensible. — What’s the matter? Can’t speak? — I mocked. — Did you lose your tongue, perhaps?

His eyes widened, and he began shaking his head in the affirmative. I furrowed my brow, moved the tip of the blade to his throat, and demanded in a cold whisper:

— Open your mouth, bastard.

The man opened his mouth. I furrowed my brow even more upon seeing that, indeed, he had no tongue. If they had all had their tongues removed to prevent them from revealing who sent them to kill me, then the only one left alive would be of no use to me. Besides, I seriously doubted such a poor assassin even knew how to read or write.

— Today is definitely not your lucky day, dear friend.

His eyes bulged even more, and he tried to rise to come at me, but I cut his throat first. The crimson liquid gushed from the long wound as he choked, trying to stop the bleeding with his own hands. He stared at me in horror. I simply raised an eyebrow and rested my hands on the hilt of the Fire Heart, the blade's tip fixed to the ground. The man gasped for a moment before collapsing face down, a pool of blood forming around him.

Looking around, I grimaced in disgust at the sight of the three bodies and absentmindedly wondered if Tennebris would want to eat them.

— Rhaenyra!

I shifted my gaze from the body with the severed arm and smiled upon seeing my uncle. Daemon was drenched from the storm, holding the Dark Sister. He looked between me and the man at my feet with wide eyes.

— Daemon!

My fiancé came toward me. After placing the Dark Sister on the bed, he grabbed my shoulders with his cold, wet hands, scanning me from head to toe twice in a row.

— Rhaenyra! — Daemon exclaimed, looking disturbed. — Are you hurt, my love? Did these bastards hurt you? — He asked desperately. I quickly shook my head to deny it. — What the hell happened here? Why the hell didn’t you scream for help?

I don’t know why, but I sat down as my cheeks heated up.

— Well... — I licked my lips and gave a small, nervous smile. — A surprise assassination attempt?

Perhaps I had chosen the wrong words, judging by the stormy scowl that formed on my fiancé's face.

♛

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21ZaKX336gsKyrLcXjcrwK?si=5A7KzbaSSKGVDPjUxatw1Q&pi=9fVI8rs2SR6VQ

Chapter 21: Chapter 16.

Notes:

Good evening, little dragons! I’M BACK! Did I hear an amen? Amen!

I thank everyone for the kudos and comments, which I will respond to as soon as I have time. Folks, today’s chapter is from Daemon’s POV, and it will contain explicit violence and deaths, so consider this a warning.

Enjoy the reading!

♛

Chapter 16.

“A feeling of relief, which I had forgotten, began to grow in my chest.

Stepstones , 113 AC.

By Daemon Targaryen.

The small, skilled fingers adorned with a few rings worked through my hair, braiding the silver strands just like our ancestors used to do during their battles. I felt relaxed and calm with her soft and tender touches. My fiancée remained focused on her task while humming a Valyrian lullaby, whispering it quietly.

The same lullaby I used to sing to Rhaenyra when she was just a baby in my arms. Back then, Aemma was exhausted from trying to make her sleep, and Viserys was somewhere in the Red Keep.

And, years later, the same beautiful baby, with only a few silver strands and clever lilac eyes, would officially become my wife.

It still felt surreal to think I wasn’t stuck with the Bronze Bitch anymore, with a failed and hateful marriage since the first day of our forced union. Now, I had a Valyrian wife and a dragon rider, who loved our ancestry and the Gods, just as I had wished for years ago.

— I’m almost done with your braids, uncle. — Nyra commented absently. With every passing minute, her soft and tender touches made me relax, and a drowsiness began to invade my mind. — You’ll look even better once it's done.

I didn’t need to turn around to know that the Delight of the Realm, my sweet and beautiful niece, had flushed cheeks. With every passing day, our relationship as a couple deepened, gaining new layers, as we got to know each other as man and woman for the first time. Although we were still uncle and niece, we were now taking our connection to another level, something more intimate and inexplicable.

Being with Rhaenyra, having her as my fiancée and partner, was something magnificent to me.

And I had come so close to losing her...

I could still feel the terror that spread beneath my skin, like a swarm of spiders crawling, the moment I broke through the entrance of her tent and found Rhaenyra standing, covered in blood, with three bodies before her. At first, I feared the worst, that my wife had been hurt. Then came the rage. At the bastards who dared to invade her tent and try to harm my fiancée, at myself for not noticing them or killing them with my own hands, and a little at her for not asking for help.

But when I saw her in my arms, with her unsure lilac eyes, the anger disappeared completely, leaving only the relief that she was fine and unharmed. A little voice inside my head whispered that, although I was worried and still a little scared, Rhaenyra was strong, fierce, skilled with a sword, and a rider of two monstrous beasts.

She was my Dragon Princess.

‘’— Are you mad at me, kepus? — Rhaenyra whispered. Her face, silver hair, and tunic were a mess, stained red with recent blood. I sighed softly, holding her. — I’m sorry, Daemon. I thought about calling you, but I could have been caught by them outside, and I had the advantage of knowing they’d come for me. — She wrapped her arms around me. — Just like the storm helped me surprise them, it wouldn’t have given me a chance to warn you without making a huge scene.

I pressed my cheek against her head, squeezing her tighter in my arms, and murmured in a hoarse voice:

— I’ll admit, I was a bit mad for not being here to protect you, for only realizing now that you were under attack. — I was honest, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

She stiffened in my arms and lifted her head to meet my gaze. Despite her tent being very dark, only lit by the occasional lightning, I could see her frown and nervously bite her lower lip. Finally, I gave a small smile and continued:

— But I’m also very proud to see how my wife eliminated those three bastards and relieved that you weren’t hurt. — I frowned and touched a strand of crimson-dyed hair. Rhaenyra let out a soft sigh, relaxing against me. — You’ll need a good bath to get all this blood out of your beautiful hair, love.

Nyra nodded in agreement.’’

Even though Rhaenyra came out unscathed and killed the three damned bastards, I was furious to learn that the leader had his tongue cut off.

After checking, we saw that the other two corpses also lacked their tongues. It was obvious that this was a precaution taken by whoever ordered it, in case any of the three captives were used to extract information under torture. Despite this, neither my fiancée nor I had any doubt that they came on the orders of those Hightower cunts. I could even picture the worm and the whore queen planning to send three assassins on the boat that had come from King's Landing. However, we didn’t have any proof in hand, just our certainty.

‘’— It was the Goddess Syrax who warned me in my sleep about what was about to happen, Daemon. — Nyra commented suddenly, just as I was washing her hair. We had been silent for a while. I was only taking care of her and burning with hatred inside. — Uncle... — She lifted her teary eyes to me. It broke me to see my fierce girl so fragile. — Why do people want a cursed seat like the Iron Throne so badly?

I swallowed the thorny lump that formed in my throat and held her face in my hands. A few tears timidly rolled down Rhaenyra's cheeks, which only fueled my thirst for vengeance to mount Caraxes and burn the Red Keep, no matter who was inside. I could also feel my dragon restless, very angry.

— Because those damned sheep want something they’ll never have, while they wait in the shadows for our downfall and the extinction of House Targaryen. — I murmured in a low tone, but with rage dripping from each word spoken in the silence of my tent. — My love, I will burn every man, castle, land, and all of Westeros, so that only you sit on that damned Iron Throne. — I promised, with every fiber of my body burning for the blood and violence of those who went against my fiancée.’’

It might not be soon, but the day would come when the snakes that crawled freely through the Red Keep, the King himself, and any other enemy who tried to cross Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's path would pay dearly, with their lives if necessary. Anyone who dared to stand up and try to overthrow the House of the Dragon would still fall to their knees. They would beg for mercy for their miserable lives and prove the true meaning of Fire and Blood.

At the moment, the true Targaryen were very few, but we wouldn't let our house be extinguished by a bunch of ambitious people.

— I'll finish your braids, love. — Rhaenyra hummed happily and then slipped between mine. I wrapped my arms around her slender waist and lifted my head to look her in the face with a soft smile. She ran her fingers through my hair. — You're so beautiful.

I smiled more and stood up, without letting go of her. This little woman made me so happy.

— My love... — I sighed passionately and kissed my bride's soft, red lips. Her cheeks blushed, while a warmth that only she could cause warmed my chest. — Thank you.

Letting out a funny laugh, Rhaenyra threw her arms around my neck and stood on tiptoe. We were both wearing armor, so our movements weren't totally free.

— Kepus? — She licked her lips and squeezed the back of my neck with her little fingers. I let out a grunt in response, a little distracted by her beauty and her cherry-red lips. — Although we think that the two weeks were enough to leave the pirates very weak or dead from hunger and dehydration, be careful anyway, okay?

Two weeks ago, Rhaenyra brought a simple but effective and clever idea to our strategy table. She pointed out our weaknesses and how we were stuck in battles with a repetitive effect. We all saw that we would never win if we carried on like this and agreed to follow what she proposed.

My bride and Tennebris did a great job together, melting rocks to block the only three entrances to the mountain used by the Crabfeeder.

— Yes, my passion. — I leaned my forehead against hers and closed my eyes. — Promise me the same, Rhaenyra.

Her fingers gripped the back of my neck tighter.

— I promise, kepus.

I slid my nose along her flushed cheek and captured Rhaenyra's soft lips in a quiet kiss.

Although we were about to face the Crabfeeder and put an end to the bloody two-year war, I felt calm. There was still none of the familiar frenzy of causing chaos and bathing in the enemy's blood that I was used to feeling before every battle.

It was the effect that Rhaenyra had on me.

A little voice whispered in my head as I deepened the kiss and ran my tongue over her ajar lips.

Mine! Mine! Mine!

Rhaenyra clung to me tighter, moaning softly. The sound caused a twinge of pure arousal in my cock, and a familiar warmth spread through my belly. She tilted her head down a little, giving me more freedom to explore her mouth, which I did with great desire and enthusiasm. I kept a firm arm around her waist, protected by the armor that belonged to Queen Visenya, and held her by the nape of the neck, burying my fingers in her silver braids.

— Ah, Uncle... — She sighed softly, between gasps, when we separated. I was also breathing a little heavily, my penis begging for freedom and attention from the beautiful woman glued to my body. Nyra opened her eyes to look at me with dilated pupils and a wild purple color. — Let's get rid of these bastards so we can get married soon.

My response was to pull her into another kiss.

♛

As soon as Tennebris finished melting the rocky blockade at the main entrance, the intense and characteristic odor of decay crawled out of the mountain as if it were death itself incarnate.

It was something extremely terrifying, inexplicable. In that same instant, I covered my nose, and my stomach churned in violent nausea. Many men hurriedly pulled away, some cursing in disgust, while others began to vomit. By my side, Rhaenyra pulled a handkerchief from her armor and tied it around the lower part of her face, leaving only her lilac eyes exposed.

— Damn, Kepus, this stinks more than I imagined. — My fiancée muttered in High Valyrian and stared at me in horror. — On one hand, we’re pretty fucked having to go in there… — She pointed to the dark entrance with her chin. — But, we also know the plan worked, even though it’s a pain in the ass having to walk through the cave network with this stench worse than Flea Bottom.

I stared at her with raised eyebrows, still covering my nose the best I could, and a small smile formed on my lips. Her beautiful lilac eyes sparkled playfully in my direction, and I realized she was smiling under the handkerchief. My heart raced as I became intoxicated by the exuberant and unique beauty of my future wife.

— What’s wrong, uncle? — She tilted her head slightly.

Even though we were in such a precarious situation on a resource-poor island, with death and danger always just a few inches from our heels, without the extravagant luxury, security, and numerous servants available at the Red Keep, there was a genuine and inexplicable happiness in the bubble surrounding us whenever we were alone in our tent.

Once, my fiancée confessed her desire to fly to the Free Cities, to experience new cultures, people, and places. She wished to ascend to the Iron Throne, but also to experience a freedom she’d never truly had, simply for being born a woman and of Royal blood.

I already had a plan for after our wedding at Dragonstone: return to King’s Landing and get Viserys to sign a contract that would give us the Stepstones entirely. We knew the King could take the Iron Throne from my wife and exile me permanently from Westeros, so we decided that the announcement of our union would only happen after we had our own land and no chance of losing it.

‘’— He can take your right of primogeniture and, for sure, he’ll exile me when he finds out about our marriage, love, — I said a few nights ago.

This near certainty caused a deep pain in my chest, but not from the love and affection I never had from my older brother. No, I had already made peace with myself and accepted that Viserys no longer mattered, someone who should be in my life despite us having the same blood running through our veins and being children of the same parents. What hurt me was the fact that Rhaenyra could be overlooked and lose her right of primogeniture just because of Viserys’s petty refusal to accept me as her husband.

— Uncle? — She shifted in my arms and rested her chin on my chest, looking at me almost without blinking. — I want to sit on the Iron Throne because it’s my right as the King’s Heir, but I’ll never let him or that damn chair come between us, separate us. If Viserys exiles you for not accepting that I chose you to be my husband, then we’ll leave Westeros and build our family, our true happiness, somewhere else. I love you, Daemon. You’re my twin flame, and we were made to burn together.’’

— Admiring how beautiful you are, Nyra, even with just your eyes exposed.

She didn’t need to remove the handkerchief for me to know that her cheeks were turning red. It was amazing how Rhaenyra could be deadly with a sword and her dragons, and blush beautifully from a simple compliment.

— Here, Daemon, — Rhaenyra handed me a sheet and gestured toward my face. I amused myself internally, seeing the tips of her small ears turn red. — Wear it like I do. — She seemed to smile again. — It won’t make the stench imperceptible, but I believe it’ll help us for a while. — She explained quickly before heading toward her black dragon.

Tennebris was observing us with his green eyes and seemed to judge me with every little movement I made around his rider.

Tenny, as my woman called him, was a bit protective of her and Syrax.

I didn’t need to communicate with him, nor did Rhaenyra need to confirm for me to know that Tennebris didn’t like me or Caraxes. The feeling was mutual between the dragons. My boy, not too far from us, let out a huff. I could feel how pissed off he was, ready to start a fierce fight with the other dragon.

Apparently, from what Nyra told me, laughing a lot two weeks ago, the God of Darkness had been bragging to Syrax. According to Tennebris, only he managed to melt the rocks of the mountain at Crabfeeder’s lair, while a certain red dragon couldn’t and still couldn’t fly because of a mere arrow to the wing.

— Be careful, my love, — I whispered to her.

Rhaenyra, who had already climbed up and was now sitting on Tennebris without a saddle, smiled and murmured:

— You too, my love, — she replied sweetly. — After all, I need my fiancé to be whole and alive on the day of our wedding. — Nyra winked and tapped Tennebris’s neck, signaling for him to take them into the skies.

They disappeared quickly as they rounded the mountain, heading to the West, the place Rhaenyra would use to invade. Meanwhile, I would stay at the main entrance in the South, and Lord Corlys would take care of the East side. Since all the passages were already clear for our access, we’d invade simultaneously to prevent anyone from escaping, or staying alive.

After two long years, the day had finally come when Craghas Drahar would meet the blade of Dark Sister in person.

A cruel smile began to spread across my face. The familiar frenzy to cause chaos and bathe in the blood of the enemy finally awoke within me. I was a dragon through and through, so I didn’t deny my violent roots, nor did I hide behind a false cloak of regret for killing those who were necessary. I had already eliminated thousands, and would continue to do so to stay alive, keep Rhaenyra protected, and keep the House of the Dragon standing.

— Yeah, my old friend, soon we can leave this place, — I whispered after tying the scented handkerchief around my face, to Caraxes. The Blood Wyrm let out a few clicks and blew hot air at me, tapping his snout against my chest. He seemed a little worried about us going into the mountain caves without any other dragons. — Don’t worry. — I pressed my forehead against his scales and hugged him around his long, slender neck. — I’m sure this war ends today, and we’ll come out victorious.

Caraxes let out a few more low clicks, seemingly agreeing with me. I pulled away and patted his neck, getting a hot breath in my face in response.

— Shall we chop off a certain Crabfeeder’s head? — I gave a sly smile, pulling Dark Sister from the sheath at my waist.

There were only a few men left standing, raising their swords to try to stop me from advancing through the cave network. Countless lifeless bodies were scattered across the floor, many already in an advanced state of decomposition, while others must have only died a few days ago. At most, three days ago. With my wife’s plan succeeding, the bastards, still clinging to their miserable lives, were so malnourished and weakened they posed no real threat.

It was so easy, and honestly, a little boring to kill them.

The further I advanced toward what should be the heart of the mountain, the stronger the stench of decay became, almost impossible to breathe in. Although the scented handkerchief had helped me at first, now it was merely a fragile barrier tied around my face. Keeping my focus on everything around me, I tried to breathe as little as possible and eliminate the fools who crossed my path.

Most of the journey was done almost in complete darkness, interrupted by a few torches sporadically placed along the narrow, cold corridors. At one point, my eyes got used to the lack of light, and I could see the bodies on the floor, the outlines of stones, and anything else that came into my way.

Caraxes’ unease grew with each passing moment.

— Bastard!

The blade hissed through the air and was easily caught by Dark Sister, causing a clash as the two swords met. Gasping, the man staggered back, taking unsteady steps, and charged at me for the second time. I had no trouble briefly sidestepping and took the opportunity to land my own strike against him. The bastard screamed in agony the moment Dark Sister cut into his arm just below the shoulder, and blood sprayed out.

With a single strike from me, the idiot’s head fell at my feet.

I left a few more dead behind, those who had tried to fight me, and pressed forward toward the place they seemed so willing to protect with their own lives. I had only one true target in mind and hoped the bastard was still alive, because his death should come by my hands and the blade of Dark Sister.

Two more pirates dropped dead in seconds, and the door they had been guarding like loyal dogs was now clear to be accessed.

The only torch gave some light to the narrow corridor, with the uneven rocky floor and damp walls, but it was enough for me to see without much difficulty. I ripped the handkerchief off my face, and the stench of decay wasn’t as strong on this side of the mountain, allowing me to breathe a little easier. I sheathed Dark Sister and pulled a dagger from my boot, as it was likely the space behind the door would be cramped, and a long blade would get in the way in case of a hand-to-hand fight.

Holding the dagger at chest height, I sharpened my hearing and detected no new sounds around me, other than the distant noises from our invasion. Finally, I pushed the wooden door, and it creaked loudly. Narrowing my eyes, I took slow and cautious steps inside, always alert to the slightest movement for an ambush or a strike from behind. I was greeted by the strong, unpleasant smell of fish mixed with dirt.

Some lit candles in the room gave me a full view of what could be considered a medium-sized chamber, dug into the very rock of the mountain. A cruel smile began to spread across my face the moment I set eyes on the figure seated in the only chair in the room, next to an old wooden table.

The prince-admiral of Myr was staring back at me, unmoving, in complete silence.

— Finally, we meet, Warrior Prince. — Craghas Drahar was the first to break the silence. His voice was low and expressionless. Standing in the middle of the makeshift room, I stayed silent, though I glared at him with irony. — I must confess that you, Daemon Targaryen, were an adversary I underestimated over these two years. I made the mistake of celebrating your death and that horrendous beast’s too soon, only to be surprised by a deluge of fire in the middle of the night.

I raised an eyebrow, a cynical and proud smile dancing on my lips. Rhaenyra’s feat with Syrax and Tennebris, reducing our enemies to ashes and charred flesh in revenge for me and Caraxes, was still a topic of conversation and admiration among my men.

— Despite admiring your sincerity, great Prince-Admiral of Myr... — I muttered his title with heavy mockery and flashed him a huge sneer of scorn to provoke him further.

Crabfeeder straightened up in the chair, looking irritated, and his hand on the table clenched into a fist. The man was a terrifying sight when Rhaenyra filled my eyes with all her beauty and sensuality. Corlys had commented that the Prince-Admiral of Myr was likely affected by scale rot, a disease that was usually fatal.

Now, looking at him face to face—since the bastard always hid in the mountain during battles—I could see that Corlys was probably right.

The prick in front of me, although wearing a mask to hide most of his face, wasn’t wearing a tunic, and it was clear that his chest was covered in thick crusts that resembled scales. In some areas, there were open sores with pus, and in others, a strong redness. A few dark, dirty, greasy strands of hair hung just below his tense shoulders.

— I must highlight that the deluge of fire that engulfed your little friends was caused by my niece and fiancée, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Heir to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms, and the two beautiful beasts. — I said with deep pride for the ferocity of my wife. He said nothing, only continued glaring at me. Finally, I tilted my head to the side and mocked him a bit more: — But I believe we have other matters to discuss, don’t we, my dear friend?

Abruptly, Craghas Drahar pulled a sword from under the old table and lunged at me, letting out an angry scream that seemed to echo through the room. Drawing Dark Sister, I flashed a sly smile and met the enemy like a dragon. The blades clashed in the air, and we exchanged a brief glance. Although most of the Prince-Admiral of Myr’s face was hidden under the mask, I noticed how his dark eyes were boiling with rage.

My sly smile grew a little wider.

I began to toy with the bastard who led the pirates that kept me trapped on those desolate islands, away from my sweet and beautiful Rhaenyra. The anger that had driven me for the long two years still sang in my blood, as hot as Caraxes’, but at that moment, I was having a bit of fun with Craghas Drahar. I was just defending myself and easily dodging his blows, which grew more erratic and slower, giving me more openings to end him once and for all.

Craghas Drahar panted and let out angry grunts, which entertained me more with each passing moment.

— Damn you, Daemon Targaryen! — The bastard lunged at me and tried to strike me with a weak blow to the neck.

I spun around Crabfeeder, with all the confidence and arrogance that a skilled man like a Warrior Prince such as myself could possess. He began blindly attacking my sides with his sword, trying to hit me in the chest. I spun Dark Sister, intercepting a blow near my right thigh, and decided it was time to end our little game and find my wife.

We locked eyes one last time.

I moved away with a sharp motion and kicked the Prince-Admiral of Myr in the chest, making him lose his balance and almost fall to the rocky floor. Before the bastard could regain his footing and attack me again, I raised the sword that once belonged to Queen Visenya Targaryen, and the Valyrian blade hissed through the air as it descended toward the miserable man. Dark Sister, merciless as always, cut him in half in a nearly perfect diagonal line, from his shoulder down just below the ribs.

Blood spurted like a jet in all directions, splattering both my chest and face.

I panted a little and felt slightly tired. After the wretched two years, countless battles and hardships, the bastard lay at my feet, his body split in two. The strong smell of rust filled the air, mixed with the stench of fish and filth, but it didn’t bother me.

After a long time, I no longer needed to fear that I wouldn’t survive until tomorrow, and I was certain I would marry my twin flame in a few days.

A sense of relief, so long forgotten by me, began to grow in my chest. A new and warm feeling started to rise in place of all the hatred, disdain, and resentment I had carried for the miserable, broken man at my feet, for Viserys’s inability to act as a true King, for the lack of help I had begged from the Crown during the two years of war, and for the power the damn Hightowers exert over my house.

I just needed to find my niece, take her in my arms, kiss her, tell her how much I loved her, and thank her for the way she helped all of us.

Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Dragon Princess, was the strength I needed to stay standing, the light that illuminated my dark life, and the woman who held my heart for 16 years.

Holding Dark Sister in my right hand, I grabbed the Crabfeeder by the only arm left and began walking out of the room. I moved quickly and urgently, the need to find my fiancée made me ignore the stench of decomposing bodies. I had to stop for a few seconds when the main entrance came into my view and the brightness from outside hit me full force.

Furthermore, I furrowed my brows slightly, but continued as soon as I got used to it.

Caraxes was the first I saw as I left the cave behind and my feet touched the sand of the beach. He raised his head toward me, examining me with his yellow eyes, and sniffed the surrounding air. I smiled at my old friend and passed the feeling that everything was fine through our connection. At that moment, I wished I could talk freely with Blood Worm, just as Nyra did with Syrax and Tennebris.

— I’m fine, my boy. — I said when he came to sniff me again and stared at my blood-soaked hair. — We won, Caraxes! We can leave now.

Caraxes let out some happy clicks and nudged my chest with his snout. I was moved by the wave of pride, relief, and joy the huge red dragon felt for me. I smiled more at him and patted his long neck while he made a contented sound.

— Uncle!

I turned my head to find Rhaenyra just a few meters away from us. A huge smile adorned her beautiful, doll-like face. She briefly analyzed me from head to toe, and her curious gaze focused on what was left of the Crabfeeder thrown behind me. She raised both eyebrows. Meanwhile, I allowed myself to delight in the magnificent sight of the Dragon Princess.

Beautiful!

Taking a deep breath, I licked my lips and began to feel my penis come alive. Some of her braids were undone, and Rhaenyra had a few locks dyed with blood. Her face was smeared with soot, and there were red spots on her forehead, cheeks, and neck. Her armor seemed intact, except for the mud stuck to her legs and a piece of her breastplate.

Her bright lilac eyes locked onto mine, and I opened my arms to embrace her in the same instant.

— My love!

Rhaenyra ran toward me and laughed loudly as she threw herself against me.

♛

Notes:

So, what did you think? Finally, the war arc is coming to an end, and our couple will marry in a few chapters before returning to King’s Landing. HELP ME, GOD! It’s going to be such a drama!

And how’s the translation going? Right now, I’m using AI to help me since I’m Brazilian and only speak Brazilian Portuguese, though I can give Spanish a try.

See you soon!

Chapter 22: Chapter 17.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! Another chapter before the week ends? That's right! Amen? Amen! This chapter is the last in the war.

♛

Chapter 17.

“Daemon finally had Craghas Drahar’s head.’’

Stepstones , 113 AC.

Daemon finally had Craghas Drahar’s head, and the Dark Sister was drenched in the blood of the leader of our enemies.

— Daemon... — I held his face in my hands as I freed myself from his arms and dove into the vast purple of my twin flame's eyes. My uncle was the very image of a Valyrian warrior in all his glory and power. He was even more beautiful in my eyes. — Ah, my beloved kepus... — I licked my lips and grinned widely. — You did it, you defeated him, my love.

Noticing Daemon was about to protest, I placed a finger over his soft lips and silenced him gently.

— Yes, we won because of you, my love. — I reaffirmed, with all my sincerity.

His eyes widened slightly, and his large hands tightened around my waist. Daemon pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. I kept my right hand resting on his blood-streaked cheek and threaded my left fingers through the strands at the back of his neck. Some of his braids had already come undone.

— You may be doubting your own worth, but I know how amazing, strong, and powerful you are, uncle. — I continued to murmur, fervently. — I also want you to know that if the fucking war ended today, and we got this bastard's head... — I glanced briefly at what was left of Crabfeeder. — It was because my Warrior Prince never gave up raising his sword and fighting countless battles over the past two years.

I knew my fiancé would tell me that we won because of me, because of the idea I shared with him and his men. However, the strategy of melting rocks with dragon fire to trap them in their own hideout was only heard and executed because Daemon was the first to want to listen to what I had to say. He saw that a simple idea could work with Tennebris's help. Kepus believed in me as an equal to him and the other men, putting aside the bonds we shared.

— My passion... — He whispered, swallowing hard, staring at me with his dark, wild eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and a familiar warmth began to spread in my belly. — Fuck! I need to kiss you so badly right now, Rhaenyra.

My only response was to let out a soft, embarrassingly eager moan.

I then clung to him more. Watching Daemon flash his familiar roguish smile, my mind clouded with desire, and I cared less and less that we were surrounded by our warriors. In camp, it was an open secret that he and I shared a deeper, more unconventional relationship than an uncle and niece should. We were Targaryen, and every living man still carried the awareness that incest was normal for us.

A simple public kiss would only confirm what everyone already knew.

Ah, fuck it!

— Then kiss me, Uncle Daemon. — I whispered, licking my lips eagerly. The purple of his wicked gaze grew nearly as dark as the black of his dilated pupil. Daemon buried one large hand in my neck and let out a low, absurdly hoarse growl, sending shivers down my spine. — Finally, show everyone that the Dragon Princess belongs solely to the Warrior Prince. — I taunted him, a small provocative smile playing on my lips.

Although Daemon’s hair, face, and black armor were covered in the blood of those killed by his blade and fury, I didn’t hesitate to stand on tiptoe and brush my lips against his. I pulled back mere inches and delighted in the way his expression overflowed with lust. The heat inside me intensified at the messy sight of my fiancé.

Finally, I pressed my lips against his and sighed softly in satisfaction.

Moaning against me, my fiancé returned the kiss with the same urgency, burying one hand in the tangled strands at the back of my neck. Daemon pulled me closer as our lips moved in perfect sync. My armor clanged against his, pulling a brief laugh from me that turned into a moan of pleasure as he slid his tongue into my mouth.

My love! My fiancé! My prince! My twin flame!

The possessive thought added more urgency to me, the familiar heat growing more intense in my belly, and the throb between my legs almost painful.

I need so much more.

The feeling of frenzy grew stronger in my stomach. I mentally cursed the armor that kept me from feeling Daemon’s hot, bare skin against mine. More! More! I require more! Craving much more, I bit his lower lip with some force and sucked. Kepus's chest vibrated with a silent growl, and he eagerly slid his tongue into my mouth.

I tugged at the hair at the back of his neck, and we went back to exchanging a slower kiss, but just as pleasurable as the first one.

As soon as we broke our kiss, Daemon pressed his forehead against mine and stared at me, his eyes still dark with lust. His breath came in high, uneven gasps, just like mine, which brought a faint smile to my lips. He smiled too, rubbing his rough thumb against my hot cheek. Keeping my fingers tangled in the strands at his neck, I placed one hand on his chest and took in a breath through my parted lips.

— You’re getting yourself dirty with the blood that’s on me, love — Kepus commented, hoarsely, and stroked my cheek. — How was it for you inside the caves? Did you get hurt anywhere? — His purple eyes quickly scanned me.

I hurried to shake my head. Daemon sighed and kissed my forehead lovingly, making me blush. He raised an eyebrow when he saw my flushed cheeks and gave me his famous arrogant smile. I rolled my eyes and murmured in a low tone:

— I’m unharmed. — I touched his blood-stained chin and focused my eyes on the strands, now more crimson than silver. — It’s going to be tough getting all that blood out of your hair, uncle. — I furrowed my brow a little but went back to answering his previous question: — It was easy to kill those who survived, but I had to go out and burn some unwanted visitors.

A little farther off, in the dark and cold waters of the sea, the black smoke from the ships I burned with Syrax still rose high into the gray sky. I was inside the caves, fighting, when my Golden Lady warned me that ships were approaching the island. I didn’t think twice about running outside, flying into the sky, and ordering her to burn everything that belonged to the enemy.

— Dornish? — Daemon looked at me, his forehead furrowed. — Have those bastards still not learned anything? — He growled, irritated.

I touched his cheek and kissed his lips quickly to try to ease his growing frustration. It seemed to work, as Daemon smiled at me.

— Probably, yeah. — I sighed softly. — There were scorpion weapons aboard. But now, they’re just ashes and burned wreckage. — I winked, a small, cruel smile playing on my lips.

Daemon held my face and kissed me briefly. I pulled away, gasping softly.

— My brave and wild girl. — There was a strong look of devotion in his eyes, and a huge smile adorned his face with patches of dried blood. — Always surprising me. — His tone overflowed with burning passion mixed with pride and satisfaction.

My face heated with vanity, and I felt my ego inflate. It was invigorating to be recognized by Daemon as a good warrior and to have his approval on the battlefield.

— We still have some things to finish here. — I whispered. — I imagine we can head to Dragonstone once we make sure the pirates won’t return, and the Triarchy won’t try to conquer the islands again. — I stared at what was left of the Crabfeeder and grimaced in disgust at the sight of his entrails hanging out. — He was a terrible sight, really. — I commented, staring at his bloodstained face, where there had once been a mask.

Daemon pressed a kiss to my forehead and smiled as he pulled away from me.

— Yeah, that son of a bitch was. — He held my hand in his. — Now, let’s meet with our men, my love.

Daemon ordered that they take some pirates to be impaled along with the Crabfeeder on the sandy shore of the beach. In my eyes, it was a clear message to the Triarchy and anyone else thinking of trying to conquer the Stepstones: on these inhospitable islands, Prince Daemon Targaryen fought alongside brave men and defeated his enemies with fire and blood. My fiancé made sure to personally impale Craghas Drahar, to display what was left of him for everyone to see.

— You took him from me for two damn years, Prince-Admiral of Myr. — My gaze danced over what was left of the Crabfeeder, and a cold smile adorned my lips. — Now, you’re here... — A morbid satisfaction flooded me, and I stared at the back of my fiancé, a little farther off. Daemon was talking to Uncle Corlys and one of the captains of the Velaryon fleet. — Dead, a miserable impaled bastard, with no power or dignity left.

The heat of the earlier battle and the raw desire for Daemon had faded, giving way for me to think more clearly. Now, in front of me, Craghas Drahar was nothing but a useless piece of human flesh. With his guts still hanging out, blood dripped steadily onto the damp sand from the tide. Furthermore, only his head and one arm remained from the final confrontation with Daemon.

My cold gaze fixed on his shoulder, where there were thick scabs and flaky skin. Curiously, I furrowed my brow and poked the sickly-looking spot with the tip of my dagger, tearing off a small piece of skin.

— Scaled plague.

I lifted my gaze from the chest of the corpse and focused on my uncle’s soft gaze. Daemon remained serious, though I could tell he wasn’t tense or overflowing with rage. In fact, he seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and that thought brought a small smile to my lips.

— Looks pretty painful, besides leaving an awful appearance on the skin — I commented indifferently and went back to staring at Craghas Drahar. Daemon stopped beside me. — Do we have a good amount of spoils? — I tilted my head to look up at him.

Seemingly thoughtful, Daemon divided his glances between me and the dagger in my small hands. I tilted my head to the side and waited for him to speak. My fiancé sighed and began staring at the sea, leaving me more curious.

— A lot more than we thought, love. — Kepus looked at me sideways. — You still really think we should withhold the amount of treasure we found from the King and the Crown, Rhaenyra?

I wrapped my arms around his waist, staring at the sea as well, and let out a small sigh. Pulling me closer to his body, Daemon draped an arm over my shoulders and kissed my hair.

— Yes, uncle. — I lifted my head to meet his gaze and flashed a dangerous smile. — We should give King Viserys and his worms the bare minimum of everything you, Uncle Corlys, and these brave men fought for. — I rested my head on his chest and clung to his black doublet. We had both already removed our armor. — Besides, they don’t deserve a single gold coin, we know Viserys won’t help the small folk with whatever he gains, and we need a lot of gold to fortify things here.

Daemon sighed and kissed my hair. I hugged him tighter, feeling loved and protected in his arms.

— You’re right. — His warm palm started gliding down my sore back in a gentle caress. — Corlys agrees with the plan. He and Laenor are making sure we divert enough to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to our plan to steal from the King. — He chuckled, amused.

Taken by a sharp humor, I clicked my tongue and murmured sarcastically:

— Look on the bright side, Kepus... — I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, drawing his curious gaze toward me. — I’ve already stolen from the King twice when I took Visenya’s armor and Queen Rhaenys’ sword. — I winked, laughing softly. — Besides, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission from the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

He laughed too.

— I can totally imagine him blaming me because his sweet and innocent little girl stole from the Crown — Daemon said ironically, though there was a tone of bitterness in his voice.

It hurt a little to see the shadow of melancholy pass quickly through his eyes, and I cursed even more the miserable existence of Viserys Targaryen. Not wanting my fiancé to be consumed by the past, I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a slow kiss. He embraced me tightly and drew me closer to his warm, strong body.

— I really like your way of distracting me, love. — He whispered, his forehead pressed against mine, fingers digging into my waist. I looked at him, gasping softly, and blushing. — Will you cut my hair, Nyra?

At first, I was shocked. I furrowed my brow and stared at him, thinking he was joking. Once, Daemon had told me he loved having long hair because that way he could wear braids like our ancestors in important moments or even before a battle. Besides, my uncle was vain about his silver strands and used the best products from the Free Cities to keep them soft, silky, and tangle-free.

— Are you sure, uncle? — I tilted my head to the side, studying his calm expression.

♛

After Daemon confirmed that he really wanted me to cut his hair, we returned to our tent shortly after.

We had already bathed separately, because if we shared the tub together, we’d end up getting distracted, and it would be too late for me to carry out my mission: not to leave my Kepus bald. Now, Daemon sat in front of me on a small bench, shirtless, with his wet hair resting on his shoulders, while I wore a simple dress and remained barefoot.

My fiancé wasn’t saying anything, but I knew he was paying attention to the Valyrian lullaby I was softly humming. It was the same one that my nanny told me he sang to me when I was just a baby, and she was exhausted from trying to get me to sleep. I ended up learning to enjoy whispering the familiar lyrics to distract myself.

Neither Daemon nor I had scissors in our tent, so healer Luli kindly lent us a pair. Since I had never cut anyone’s hair before, I focused all my attention on my new mission and tried not to stop to admire my uncle's broad back, muscular arms, and strong chest. It was hard not to let my eyes slide over the beautiful figure sitting in front of me.

May the Goddess Syrax help me!

I sighed softly, grabbed a lock of his hair between my fingers, and cut it as straight as possible. Daemon had asked for a short and practical cut. After explaining how he wanted it, I became even more surprised and curious about the final result.

I just prayed to our Gods that I didn’t screw up and ruin his hair.

— Is it silly to think that a new haircut is part of the new life I want to have with you from now on, love? — Daemon whispered suddenly.

My fingers froze, and the scissors stopped a few inches away from another lock. I furrowed my brow slightly, seeing how tense the muscles in his back were, and I realized he was insecure. I gave a small smile, returning to cutting his hair.

— Of course not, my love. — I said firmly. I paused and separated another lock from the left side of his head. — Every new beginning is welcome, in my view. And if, for you, cutting your hair short is part of that new beginning, I’ll be the first to support you, although... — I made a face of disgust. — I can’t guarantee you’ll get a decent haircut, uncle.

Daemon laughed and pulled my arm toward his face, leaving a kiss on the inside of my wrist. My heart raced, and I smiled at my twin flame. He smiled back at me, seeing my flushed face.

— Thank you, my love.

I affectionately kissed the top of his head and continued the mission of not leaving my fiancé bald by the end of the day. Though I took longer than I had expected at first, I ended up doing a good job, and Daemon still had hair on his head. I laughed quietly and nestled between his legs, making him wrap his arms around my waist. He gazed at me with his bright violet eyes, and a relaxed smile adorned his serene face. I combed the short strands back with my fingers.

— You look so handsome like this, uncle. — I smiled, trying to push a stubborn lock that kept falling over his forehead. Daemon raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously. — And luckily, I didn’t leave you bald with my lack of skill with scissors. — I teased, playful.

He rolled his eyes and stood up. I held my breath at the warm, deep way my uncle was looking at me. Daemon placed the warm palm of his hand on my neck, leaned forward, and claimed my lips in a slow, but very passionate kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to return it.

— Thank you, Nyra. — He murmured, pulling away, and pressed his forehead to mine. I played with the short strands at the nape of his neck with my fingertips. — I love you, my passion.

Heat bloomed on my face, and I smiled, pulling his head toward mine.

— I love you too, Kepus.

♛

The following days passed quickly, to my joy and anxiety.

To avoid thinking about my upcoming wedding, I focused on the plans we had for the islands and the selection of treasures that would be handed over to the Crown. Were we stealing from the King? Laenor said yes, and he also claimed that we could all be sentenced to death for theft if our scheme was discovered. I countered that, in order to steal from the King and the Crown, those treasures would have to be in the royal vaults, which was not our case.

If Viserys, the Hightower leeches, and some members of the Small Council wanted to sell me off to the Prince of Dorne’s cock, why shouldn’t I take the spoils of war and bring a nice financial reward to all the men who supported my uncle?

So, fuck them all!

In two days, we would return to Dragonstone, so I was rummaging through another one of the chests, which contained some of the treasures we had stolen from Crabfeeder, when a simple and rustic object caught my eye. Furrowing my brow, I pushed aside some golden goblets and pulled out what seemed to be a kind of crown.

— Oh! — I whispered softly, a little amazed and confused.

I sat in an old chair, which creaked under my weight, and spun the object between my fingers. Indeed, it was some kind of crown, although it was made of bones, and its structure was woven together with a rope. There was no obvious beauty to it, and many would have seen it as worthless. On the other hand, deep in my heart, I knew very well whose head this crown would adorn, with great intimate meaning.

— What’s this, Nyra? — Laenor stuck his head in the entrance of the rocky room. I looked at my cousin and gave a small smile before standing up. — What’s that? — His curious gaze landed on the crown in my hands.

I smiled more and tucked the crown into a pouch. To my relief and happiness, Laenor’s shoulder was healed, and healer Luli had cleared him to resume sword training and riding Seasmoke.

— For now, it’s our little secret, cousin. — I whispered and lightly tapped his shoulder. — And if you tell anyone about our little secret, especially my kepus, I’ll cut your dick off for Sor Joffrey’s eternal sorrow. — I gave him a wink and left him behind, hearing his amused laugh echo through the cave network.

♛

The last night of Daemon and me in the Stepstones arrived, and we both gathered around a campfire to finally celebrate our victory over the Triarchy and the conquest of the islands with the warriors who had stayed behind. The surrounding mood was lively, very different from what I found when I first arrived. Everyone was laughing, talking, eating, and drinking with great joy.

Truth be told, I felt much more at ease among these rough men, with no manners, education, wealth, or social status, and with foul mouths, than I did at many noble parties. They received me with veiled disdain and much suspicion at first. And, in a way, I understood them because, after all, I was the Heir to the Iron Throne and the daughter of the same King who didn’t lift a finger to help them, even with a Blood Prince among their leaders.

It was through the battles fought and the constant shedding of blood that I managed to show them that I only wanted to help them in the best way possible and wield a sword alongside my uncle.

In the end, although it hadn’t been easy weeks, I felt that I had matured, learned more about real life, and grown as a warrior, woman, person, Princess Royal, and future Queen Regent. Also, now I could always hold my twin flame's hand and know that we would be together until the end. I knew that, as a couple and individually, we would face some obstacles on the new path we were starting to follow, but nothing we couldn’t overcome and crush with fire and blood.

Once, Daemon said that a Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing, and we both had been two Targaryens alone in the world. But now, it was he who held my hand, and soon we would be united as one, by fire and by blood.

— I-I... want... — Laenor fell silent and tried to get up again, but ended up sitting down for the second time. My cousin was very drunk. — Fuck... — He pouted, making us laugh more, and stared at his father with red, blurry eyes. — Dad... you talk... because I’m so... drunk. — He started laughing uncontrollably.

Chuckling quietly, I tightened Daemon’s hand in mine and rested my head on his shoulder. Laenor resumed drinking, to the annoyance of Uncle Corlys, who rolled his eyes at his son’s pathetic state. The Lord of the Tides stood up, making everyone fall silent and pay attention to his imposing figure.

— Gentlemen... — He raised his wine glass and gave a rare wide smile in front of those who weren’t members of his family. — Tonight, we are here to celebrate the end of a two-year war, our victory over the Triarchy, and the death of Crabfeeder at the hands of our Warrior Prince. This prince had no reason to accompany me in this war, but he came anyway and fought bravely by our side. So, thank you for everything, Daemon Targaryen!

When Uncle Corlys paused and stared at Daemon with much respect, we started applauding and celebrating. Kepus had a soft face and a small smile on his lips. My heart warmed with happiness, pride, and love for him. My uncle might never say it aloud, but I knew how moved and happy he was.

The Rogue Prince’s eyes shone with happiness from the recognition and respect, both well-deserved, for the efforts he had put forth over two years in a war that wasn’t his.

— One moment, men! — Corlys signaled for everyone to calm down. — I also thank everyone who stayed with me, my son... — He rolled his eyes as he looked at a more drunken and giggling Laenor. — And our Dragon Princess. — He smiled more as he looked at me. — Rhaenyra Targaryen, our future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you brought us more than help, food, and the wine we’re drinking now, you also gave us strength, hope, and the solution for us to get the head of that fucked-up Crabfeeder stuck on a damn spike.

In a mix of misty eyes and flushed cheeks, I smiled and tilted my head in respect to the man I saw as a father. The men resumed clapping and celebrating, with cheers and sharp whistles. I turned my head to face my fiancé, and Daemon returned the look with adoration and pride. Filled with courage, I set my wine glass on the sand and stood up.

— Thank you, Uncle Corlys. — I smiled at him.

I straightened my posture, ready to speak to the warriors who were watching me attentively, now respecting me beyond the fact that I didn’t have a cock between my legs. I couldn’t be foolish and believe that all—almost all—men outside these inhospitable islands would start to genuinely respect me just because I went to war and helped win it. No, they wouldn’t. However, I had taken a huge step in my journey as a future Queen Regent, and I knew that my name would be marked in history in some way.

The Warrior Prince and the Dragon Princess.

I took a deep breath. Daemon took a sip of his wine and smiled when he saw me glance at him briefly.

— I know I arrived very recently and didn’t witness nearly any of the countless battles you all fought in these two years. — My voice was loud and firm. — But I want to thank each man who stayed by Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon. We deeply mourn the lives of the brave men who perished on these islands. We will be sending financial aid to their families. I’ve been informed that many were alone, but I won’t leave children, mothers, and wives helpless after our victory.

— Long live our Dragon Princess! — Someone shouted, and the others followed. — Long live our future Dragon Queen! To our Warrior Prince!

They began shouting more, and then they kneeled. Although a little surprised, I thanked them and asked for more silence to continue. I wouldn’t give a long speech, but there was still something to be done. I turned to Daemon and gestured for him to come closer. Daemon raised an eyebrow and set his wine aside, standing up.

— What is it, my love? — Daemon asked in High Valyrian. I didn’t answer immediately, only gestured for Luli to hand me the Bone Crown. Daemon stared at the object with curiosity. — Is it a Crown, niece?

I smiled briefly and then became serious.

— Kneel, Daemon Targaryen! — I commanded.

My fiancé didn’t hesitate to kneel before me. My heart raced, and I felt my hands tremble slightly. Despite that, I kept a serious expression, and my chin held high. I was breathless as I saw the depth of his emotional gaze fixed on mine.

— I, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne, future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, name you, Daemon Targaryen, Warrior Prince, Knight of Caraxes, and bearer of House Targaryen’s ancestral sword, Dark Sister, as... — I proclaimed in a loud, clear whisper, while placing the Bone Crown on his head of short locks. — King of the Narrow Sea and the Steps.

With the Bone Crown on his head, Daemon Targaryen lifted his misty gaze to mine before rising and hugging me tightly. The celebration resumed around us, with euphoric cheers and lots of noise, but I only focused on the warmth of his arms and his low sobs against my hair.

♛

Notes:

Yes, we will have Daemon in love, we will have Daemon loving Rhaenyra beyond measure, we will have Daemon opening his heart, we will have Daemon crying, we will have Daemon finally being loved and recognized for more than just the Rogue Prince. This is my version of Daemon Targaryen.

In the next chapter, we will be at Dragonstone.

See you soon, little dragons!

Chapter 23: Chapter 18.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

♛

Chapter 18.

"From my blood will come the prince that was promised. And from him will be the Song of Ice and Fire.’’

Dragonstone , 113 AC.

 

While the storm raged over Dragonstone, from the early hours of dawn, lightning, and thunder seemed to shake the entire island. The sky was like a heavy and thick black cloak, partially lit up by the most powerful lightning strikes. As the hours passed and the wind's strength against the castle increased, the weather grew colder and more oppressive, prompting all the inhabitants to seek warmer clothing.

With a contented sigh, I took another sip of my apple tea and watched the lightning display illuminate the black sky.

It was a perfect day.

For many, having to stay on Dragonstone during a violent storm and frigid weather like today would be a terrible and undesirable moment. However, for me, there was something relaxing and comforting about sitting in front of the crackling fireplace, listening to the relentless crackle of the fire while being warmed in the process. It also didn't scare me, like the wind howling like a wolf from the North when it brushed against the spaces between the stones of the Castle, or how the island seemed to tremble every time a new lightning bolt and thunder roared powerfully.

Although I knew our stay on Dragonstone would be very brief, I felt incredibly happy to be back here, by the side of my fiancé and the family I truly loved, before having to return to King's Landing to face the Puppet King, the leeching scum of Oldtown, and the foolish sheep who followed them.

Tennebris's proposal to burn the Red Keep with all of them inside, except those loyal to me, became more tempting as I thought about it.

‘’All it takes is a single request from you, and we will burn all those sons of bitches, my princess.’’ Tennebris’s eager whisper echoed in my mind like a soft song. I chuckled quietly and took another sip of my apple tea. ‘’It’s about time the Andal gods remember who the true gods of all Westeros are.’’

I could feel how the God of Darkness was anxious and expectant for me to say yes. Though I partially shared Tennebris’s desire, we could not take that path and burn the Iron Throne, which would one day belong to me by primogeniture. However, it did comfort me slightly to know that I would still get my revenge on each of them, including King Viserys I Targaryen.

— Not today, my friend. — My voice came out almost inaudible to me, but I knew he would hear it through our strong connection. — But the day will come when we make them all beg for their miserable and useless lives. Those who dared rise against House Targaryen and thought the Dance of Dragons would happen in this world will also regret the fire and blood.

The days of war were behind us, with all the dangers and deaths involved, but they also served to strengthen and deepen the bond we had built as knight and dragon. Since Tennebris appeared before me, accompanied by Syrax, I knew he was destined to remain in my life, though not as my mount until my last breath in this life.

After reading Queen Visenya's diary and learning how Tennebris lost his only rider in our world, everything became clear to me. I finally understood the depth of suffering and grief that rooted itself in the God of Darkness for the decades that followed, turning him into a wild and dangerous dragon, known as the Cannibal by common folk and the Targaryens. Now, I could only fervently wish that the stubborn and grumpy Tenny would find happiness and the peace he so longed for.

‘’Since I joined Syrax and you, I've been happy, my wild child.’’ His words were incredibly shy. There was a pause, and Tennebris continued in an even softer mental whisper: ‘’Thank you, Rhaenyra.’’

I froze on the chaise lounge, unable to respond due to my astonishment. My eyes filled with tears of happiness, and I could only send him all my feelings of gratitude, respect, affection, and love. I felt him purr like a huge kitten, a little smaller than Vhagar, sinking into a cloud of contentment.

I chuckled softly and wiped away a stray tear.

I turned my head back just as the heavy door opened, and the hinges creaked a little. Soon, a head covered with short, silver strands entered my line of sight, and I smiled. After closing the door behind him, Daemon turned toward me and gave a wide smile that exposed his lone dimple. I pushed the fur blanket aside and reached out my arms to him in a silent invitation.

— My love. — He whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead, and sat beside me on the chaise lounge. I slid into his lap, embraced by him. I lifted my head to look at him and began to play with the collar of his tunic, beneath his heavy fur cloak. — Do you want me to ask for another fur for you?

I kissed his cold cheek and whispered afterward:

— No, uncle, I’m warm enough. By the way, how is your back? Still sore?

Two days ago, we landed on Dragonstone for a brief rest and for our Valyrian wedding. This morning, Daemon underwent the Visenya Targaryen ritual and was now bonded to Caraxes, just as I was to Syrax and Tennebris. It was very difficult to stay in the Warrior Queen’s chambers and hear him scream in pain, begging our gods to end his suffering. Having already gone through the ritual, I thought I could stay calm when it was his turn, but I became so desperate and ready to help him that Aunt Dhaerys had to hold me back.

‘’— Please, let me go, Aunt Dhaerys! I need to help him! — I pleaded, tears streaming relentlessly down my cheeks as I struggled more in her strong arms. — My fiancé is in agony... He needs me... Please, Aunt. — I whispered, sobbing, clutching tighter to her fur coat. — I can’t bear to hear Daemon screaming in pain.

My aunt’s purple eyes welled up, and she pulled me into her arms for a tight embrace. I clung to her, curling up as Daemon howled in pain. Dhaerys kissed my hair and whispered:

— I know, my dear niece, but my brother needs to be alone, and soon, it will all be over.’’

In the end, everything went well, and the blood ritual was successfully completed. Now, Daemon Targaryen became immune to fire and carried a beautiful design of Caraxes on his back as a tattoo. My uncle was very happy to be able to communicate freely with his old, grumpy dragon. But he was annoyed and made a slight pout at me when I told him that the two of them wouldn't be able to fly today because of the storm. It was impossible not to laugh.

— It burns a little, but I’m fine, love. — He reassured me with a beautiful smile. Relieved, I shook my head. — Now, my sister is undecided. She really wants to bond with Dreamfyre like you and I did with our dragons, but she’s not very brave about going through the ritual. — Daemon chuckled a bit. — Unlike our mother, Baella and Lucera are begging Dhaerys for permission to bond with Moondancer and Arrax.

I widened my eyes a little. My cousins were brave for asking my mother about it because they both knew in detail how the ritual created by Queen Visenya worked and how painful the process of a knight bonding mentally with their dragon was. At first, Alicent and they stayed with us in the room, so they heard a bit of how our uncle screamed in despair.

— Won’t Aunt Dhaerys allow it? — Curious, I furrowed my brow. — Maybe Lucera is still too young. She’s only 10 name days, but Baella is almost 15. — I drummed my fingers on my thigh, thoughtfully, and looked back at my fiancé. — If they didn’t do it now, I think they might return when Lucy is older, although I’m not sure if the ritual will work outside the Queen’s sanctuary.

Daemon stared at the fire’s flames, with a thoughtful expression and his silver brows slightly furrowed. He seemed to have detached himself from reality and gone off to a very distant place in his own thoughts, which made me curious.

So beautiful.

Tilting my head slightly to the side, I stayed silent and continued admiring the beauty of my fiancé. My poor heart skipped in my chest as I remembered that, in just a few hours, the Warrior Prince, the King of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones, would officially become my husband. A shiver of excitement ran down my back, and the anticipation settled in my stomach, making a sudden wave of nausea hit me.

I took a deep breath to calm the nerves.

Trying not to think about the wedding happening the next day and being taken by another wave of restlessness, I began observing his face more closely. It was something I always did when he was distracted. My gaze slid across the silver strand falling over his furrowed brow, his bright purple eyes, his sharper, more accentuated cheekbones, his straight nose, his more defined chin, and his slightly full, reddish lips.

My heart, already so belonging to him and in love, was struck by more tender and warm feelings.

— Are you alright, love? — His purple gaze flickered toward me, making me blink to situate myself back in reality. Daemon looked at me with a shadow of a smile and raised an eyebrow. — Looks like I wasn’t the only one lost in thought here. — His calloused hand rested on my cheek, rubbing the rosy skin from the cold with his thumb. — Sorry for not answering you earlier, darling.

Smiling warmly, I got up from my uncle’s lap and stood. I extended my hand, which he accepted without hesitation, and he stood up from the chaise lounge as well. Daemon wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against his warm body, and rested his forehead against mine. I tangled my fingers in his short strands and placed one hand over the left side of his chest, where his heart was beating rapidly.

— I got distracted thinking about our wedding. — He murmured in a low and slightly shy voice. I clung to him tighter. — How I’m counting the seconds to finally call you my wife, to become your husband before our Gods. To never again have to hide my feelings for you, my love. — He opened his eyes and looked at me with such vulnerability that it took my breath away. — You’ve always been my whole world, little dragon.

My eyes filled with love, and the words stuck in my throat.

I stood on my tiptoes and pulled him by the head, claiming my uncle’s lips in a slow kiss, overflowing with passion. Daemon kept his left hand on my back, supporting me, and placed his right hand at the base of my neck, making me tilt my head back slightly. The new angle allowed him to kiss me more deeply and slide his tongue across my parted lips.

My body burned with desire as if I had plunged into the flames of Syrax mixed with those of Tennebris.

I shivered and let out a meal in the form of a moan when he sucked on my tongue. My uncle’s chest vibrated with a deep, rough growl as I bit his lower lip and felt his hardened desire against my stomach. I wanted to strip off all the heavy cold-weather clothing and demand that Daemon take me as his on the Painted Table. The thought of him claiming me there, on the same spot where Aegon I Targaryen planned his conquest of Westeros, made me even more excited.

It would be sacrilege if we had sex on the Painted Table.

Gasping for air, I broke the kiss and threw my head back. Daemon groaned softly and moved his lips down my neck, starting a trail of wet kisses, gentle hickeys, and bites without clenching his teeth too hard. The heat in my belly grew, and the moisture of my arousal seemed to drip down my legs. I tugged at his short hair, earning a muffled groan against my sensitive skin.

I turned into a mess of desire and weak legs in my hot uncle’s arms.

— Daemon... — I pulled his head by the hair, not caring about being delicate, and stared at him between irregular gasps. A wicked smile spread across his swollen, moist lips, and his purple eyes darkened even more as he gazed at the excited mess I was. — Ah, fuck it! — I kissed him desperately.

Kepus started moving us backward without breaking the kiss, and I was startled when I felt my butt hit the edge of some piece of furniture. Before I had the chance to think about any questions, Daemon lifted me by the waist and sat me on the cold surface.

Although a small part of my mind registered that I was placed on the Painted Table, I didn't care and kept focused on kissing him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting Kepus’s hard cock press against my very wet and throbbing center, and tangled my fingers in his short hair. He started thrusting his hips against me, and we both moaned.

The heat consuming me seemed to triple in less than a second.

Gods!

— You... fuck... — He breathed deeply, with difficulty, and let his head fall onto my narrow shoulder. I let out a muffled, uneven laugh, not in any better position than he was. — This will be my death, princess. — He lifted his feverish, lust-filled gaze to meet mine.

With my cheeks warm from desire and pleasure at the confession, I couldn’t help but tease him in High Valyrian:

— Will I really be your death, my love? — I raised an eyebrow, disdainfully, as a provocative smile danced on my lips. — I hope I’m a slow and delicious death for you.

Daemon’s chest rumbled in a possessive growl, and his grip on my waist tightened. I sighed in delight and slowly licked my lips, a movement that was watched fiercely by the dark eyes of the man excited between my legs. I wanted more, I desired to continue, to kneel before my uncle like an obedient niece and pleasure him with my mouth.

However, there was something to be said, a secret to be revealed to him, before we married the next day.

— Before we marry tomorrow, I need to tell you something, Daemon. — I took on a serious tone, staring at him.

I had to hold onto the bit of rationality that remained in me and tell him about Aegon’s Dream. Having Daemon almost completely press against my body left me with a mind clouded with dirty, sinful thoughts. It was very hard to focus and not get lost in the kisses from my fiancé.

— A secret I want you to know before you become my husband. — I spoke again and suddenly licked my dry lips. With the growing nervousness in my chest, I held back the urge to start spinning the rings on my small fingers. He stared back at me, silent. — I imagine that after seeing me connected to Syrax and Tennebris through a blood ritual, just like you are with Caraxes, you’re no longer skeptical about magic, right, uncle?

Although my uncle stayed silent, he furrowed his brow more, and his eyes studied my serious expression carefully. His body stiffened, and his shoulders tensed, curiosity and confusion blending in his expression.

— Alright, niece. — His purple gaze studied me a little longer, and then he continued with a curious voice: — What do you want to tell me? Is that why you asked me to meet you here after dinner with our family?

With a deep sigh, I shook my head and got off the Painted Table with his help. I felt his intense gaze locked on every tiny movement I made.

Imagining that the King should never have told Daemon about Aegon’s Dream, even though my uncle had been the Heir to the Iron Throne for a few years, I cursed Viserys’ existence even more. I knew how my fiancé would feel even more neglected by his idiotic older brother. In my view, it was a secret that should have been shared with more Targaryens, not just from the King to his Heir.

What if the King died before Aegon’s Dream was told to the Heir to the Iron Throne?

— Correct, my love.

The rain was still falling torrentially over Dragonstone, just as the thunder and lightning seemed to shake the entire island, and the strong wind howled through the small gaps in the black stones of the castle’s structure. Since I had arrived at the highest floor of the Drum Tower, the air had become colder as time passed and the storm intensified.

The fire in the hearth had become useless, and I pulled myself deeper into the fur-lined coats.

— Do you know Aegon’s Dream, uncle? — I had stopped on the other side of the Painted Table, resting my hands on the surface, and stared at him with a serious expression. I chose to use a neutral and slightly curious tone. Daemon furrowed his brow, returned my gaze, and shook his head. — Damn Viserys! — I cursed, my heart tightening and rage heating my dragon’s blood.

Daemon, who was on the other side of the room, raised his eyebrows when he heard me curse the King in Valyrian. I took a deep breath and stared at the Painted Table, observing how the wooden block had been carved and painted into a detailed map of Westeros from many years ago. My gaze fell on the location of the North, more specifically the Wall, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Four years had passed, but I still remembered when Viserys told me about Aegon’s Dream and the real reasons that led him and his sister-wives to conquer Westeros.

— Passion, what’s going on? — Daemon’s somewhat concerned tone brought me back to reality. I raised my head, my lilac eyes fixed on him, and a quiet sigh escaped me. Kepus circled the table, stopping beside me, and held me by the shoulders. I rested my head on his broad chest and closed my eyes. — What did my idiot brother do to make you so angry and upset? — He pulled me away from him to look me in the face.

I held his face with my cold palms and kissed him calmly on the lips.

— He never told you the true reason why Aegon and his sister-wives conquered Westeros, even though you were his heir before me, uncle. — I whispered, finally. Pulling back slightly from my twin flame, my gaze fell on the location of King’s Landing, and Tennebris' proposal returned to my mind. — Just as Daenys predicted the Destruction of Valyria in a prophetic dream, Aegon I Targaryen predicted the end of men.

The air in the Painted Chamber grew tenser, and the cold from the North seemed to settle between the black stone walls. While I stared at the carved map, I also felt Daemon’s confused and intense gaze on my neck.

— Aegon predicted the end of the world of men. It will begin with a terrible winter falling on the distant North. Aegon encountered an absolute darkness that will ride these winds. And everything that inhabits it will destroy the world of the living. — I continued almost in a whisper, my heart heavy with anguish. — When that day comes, everyone in Westeros will have to take a stand, and the world of men will only survive if a Targaryen, whether a king or a queen, is sitting on the Iron Throne to unite the whole realm against the cold and the darkness.

Daemon placed his hands on my tense shoulders and began massaging me. I took a deep breath, feeling my eyes well up and a terrible weight lifting from my heart. Finally, I turned to face my beloved kepus, his expression sad and uncertain. He smiled weakly at me.

— King Aegon called his dream "The Song of Fire and Ice." — I licked my lips nervously. — I was only 12 days old when Viserys called me to visit the Sanctuary of Balerion with him, after being named his Heir, and he told me about the prophecy written on the Catspaw dagger. — I had to take a deep breath as I suddenly recalled my sweet mother. — "From my blood will come the prince that was promised. And from him will come the Song of Ice and Fire."

Daemon lowered his head and hidden his eyes, which made a pang of anguish rise in my chest. Before I could say anything or touch him, he asked with a melancholic and angry whisper:

— Am I so unworthy? — He allowed me to see how the tears silently streamed down his cheeks. — Will I never be someone worthy of our house, our family, Rhaenyra?

Overcome with distress, I took his face in my hands and began to frantically run my fingers over his soft skin to wipe away the tears. A soft sob escaped, and he buried his head in my neck, holding me tight. The warm tears wet my skin, and the stifled sobs tore at my heart. I knew how my uncle, despite his love and indifference, could still be hurt by the ongoing and unwarranted contempt of the Puppet King.

My own tears flowed, but I focused on stroking his nape and whispering comforting words in High Valyrian. We stayed in the same position for a while, him crying silent years of pain, rejection, and anger, while I held him. After a while, he pulled back, with red eyes and the tip of his nose flushed, to look at me shyly. A sweet smile spread across my face.

— Sorry, my love. — He said, hoarsely and softly.

I shook my head, returning to hold his cold, flushed cheeks, and murmured:

— There’s no need to apologize, not to me, not when you need to vent and leave your Rebel Prince armor behind for a while, Daemon. — My small fingers pushed the stubborn lock of hair away from his purple eyes. — Just as you will always be by my side, giving me strength and being my fortress, I will be whatever you need me to be.

He pressed his forehead against mine, his hands firmly around my waist, and a shy whisper sounded between us:

— Thank you, little dragon.

I placed a soft kiss on kepus' lips.

— You don’t need to thank me, uncle. — I said sincerely. Nestling my head in his fragrant neck, I wrapped my arms around him and relaxed against his strong chest. Daemon rested his chin on top of my head and pulled me even closer, almost merging into one. — And you will never be unworthy, and you will always be worthy of our house and family. If there is anyone we should attribute what you said about yourself to, it’s Viserys and his inadequacy as a King.

Daemon’s response was a long kiss on my forehead while the wind continued howling in the Drum Tower.

♛

Notes:

The Valyrian wedding happens in the next chapter, and it's very emotional.

Chapter 24: Chapter 19.

Notes:

Good evening, little dragons.

Finally, the refreshments have arrived in this hellish heat we're having in Brazil. Amen? Amen!

Well, today's chapter is focused on Daemon and Rhaenyra's Valyrian wedding, BUT, I’ll warn you right away that this is my version of the wedding, okay? It's not like in the series or books, it's from my perspective as the author of this fanfic.

I hope you enjoy it!

♛

Chapter 19.

" Bound by fire, blood, soul, heart, and flesh.’’

Dragonstone , 113 AC.

 

At 16 name days, I had already experienced unforgettable moments and blindly plunged into deep emotions that many people would go their entire lives without experiencing even once before perishing. And those were also the few moments when I truly stopped to reflect and realized that, throughout my short existence as a Princess of the Blood and Heir to the Iron Throne, I had perhaps been marked more by sorrowful phases than happy ones.

Shouldn't a princess’s life have more roses than thorns?

My mind drifted into a spiral of brief memories as my bare feet touched the cold stones of Dragonstone Castle, leading me toward where my future husband awaited.

It was the arm of my second muña on mine that kept me from running to him.

Thank you for everything, Aunt Rhaenys.

The first time I mounted Syrax and soared into the skies with only my golden lady, without a saddle, I had barely completed 7 name days. I became the youngest dragonrider in our family’s history—the House of the Dragon. It should have been a moment of pure joy, a true celebration for all. After all, at that time, Targaryen dragonriders were nearly nonexistent.

I only became a rider so young because I wanted to stop Daemon from leaving and abandoning me once again after being exiled without reason by the King.

The infamous Rogue Prince had always been my favorite person.

I couldn’t remember exactly when I started to understand that my little brothers would never survive long and that muña grew weaker with each new pregnancy, miscarriage, stillbirth, and difficult labor in her attempts to give the King, her husband, a male heir.

On the other hand, I would never forget the moment I found my muña split open like a slaughtered animal and the emotions that consumed me as I begged her not to die. Anger, hatred, coldness, vengeance, and grief killed what was left of the sweet and innocent princess of 12 name days inside me. The desire to take revenge on King Viserys took deeper root in my heart when I had to ask Syrax to burn the pyre with the bodies of Queen Aemma Arryn and the Heir for a Day.

Of Queen Aemma Arryn’s seven pregnancies, I was the only child who survived to adulthood.

Within a few moons, I was named the first Heir to the Iron Throne, watched the King marry his whore while still mourning the true Queen Consort, and witnessed the healthy birth of Prince Baelon Targaryen.

Around that time, I came to know two new emotions regarding my father: contempt and manipulation.

The King still saw me as his innocent and precious little daughter, yet he was willing to sell me to Prince Qoren in exchange for alliances and gold.

In the two years leading up to kepus’s departure for the Stepstones, he spent more time away from King’s Landing than by my side. Exiles were ordered even if he so much as breathed in a way the King disapproved of. And in the two years we were truly separated by war, loneliness, and sorrow. They were my closest companions.

A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.

Syrax was born beside me, inside my cradle. Truly speaking with my beautiful golden lady for the first time, knowing that she loved me just as I loved her, was a unique experience—almost too surreal to believe. The arrival of Tennebris was like a star falling from the sky. Beautiful, powerful, and astonishing. The bond that connected the God of Darkness to me was strange, intense, and ours alone.

Syrax and Tenny were unique and vital parts of my soul.

Until then, losing muña had been the deepest pain my already wounded and shattered heart had ever felt.

However, arriving at the Stepstones and discovering that Daemon—my beloved kepus—was wounded, at risk of dying, sent me into a new spiral of anguish and fear. What if I lost him? In the darkness of his tent, I kneeled, closed my eyes, and prayed fervently to the Valyrian Gods not to take him from me. I hadn’t even managed to tell him how much I loved him and wished for a long life by his side, as his wife and the mother of his little dragons.

It was atop Syrax, with the imposing and deadly presence of Tennebris beside us, that a flood of fire rained from the sky and engulfed all those who had celebrated the near death of the Warrior Prince and his Blood Wyrm.

Perhaps someone once whispered that vengeance rots the soul.

Imagining what it would be like to receive a kiss from my uncle did not compare to reality. The sleepless nights I spent daydreaming about being in his arms and losing myself in the heat of his body became a blurry memory in some corner of my mind. Feeling Daemon’s lips sliding against mine, his large, calloused hands gripping my body possessively, and hearing him moan softly with desire consumed me as if I were being burned by dragon fire.

My love for Daemon Targaryen overflowed once again through my soul the moment he kneeled before me and asked me to be his wife by fire and blood, following the ancestral traditions of the House of the Dragon.

Demonized, judged, and cursed behind my back — that was how I was seen for being a princess who wore pants and wielded a sword. Riding a deadly, fire-breathing beast? That only made the picture painted by others of the Realm’s Delight even dirtier, more rotten, and immoral. Going to war and being the only woman in a place where only men dared to set foot? A blasphemy, a complete desecration against King Viserys and the Crown, an act of treason.

I was supposed to lose the Iron Throne, and Prince Baelon Targaryen was to be named the new Prince of Dragonstone.

It was on the battlefield, covered in the blood of enemies slain by Fire Heart, that the Heir to the Throne earned the deep respect of my uncle’s warriors and the Lord of the Tides. These men — rough, lacking a shred of manners, wealth, or any trace of nobility in their blood — learned to treat me as an equal and bent the knee to call me Dragon Princess.

I, the Dragon Princess, with deep pride and love pulsing in my heart, crowned Daemon as the King of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones.

At this moment, as my bare feet still carried me toward my future husband and Aunt Rhaenys’ arm kept me from running to meet him, a new path opened ahead of me. All the unforgettable moments I had lived and the deep emotions I had blindly plunged into would always be part of who I was, of the person I had become over 16 years of existence.

But I needed more.

It was time to experience new moments, to make room for new feelings in my life, to allow myself to live more simply as Rhaenyra Targaryen and, soon, as Daemon’s wife.

— Don’t let me fall, aunt. — I whispered, my voice trembling.

My sweaty hands and my heart pounding in my chest did nothing to calm me down. On the contrary, with each step I took, my stomach twisted in somersaults, and my soul begged to reach my betrothed’s arms, my twin flame.

Yes, Daemon was truly my twin flame. He was made for me, molded by the Valyrian Gods, and sent to complete me, to overflow my soul.

My heart, deeply in love, hummed with a quicker beat as this certainty rooted itself even deeper within me, and my inner dragon purred with possessive satisfaction.

— I will never let you fall, my dear girl.

Perhaps it was the affectionate whisper or the maternal sweetness in Rhaenys’ soft voice that brought tears to my eyes. A lump of pure emotion formed in my throat. For a brief moment, I observed the woman with raven-black hair streaked with silver, violet eyes, and a gentle smile. I inclined my head in respect to my aunt, and an "I love you" remained stuck at the tip of my tongue.

— Thank you, muña. — I poured all my love, affection, and respect for this woman into those two words.

Unspilled tears illuminated her eyes as she shook her head. A small and affectionate smile appeared on her face, with only a few traces of enviable wisdom.

— There’s nothing to thank. — Aunt Rhaenys paused briefly and took a deep breath. — I believe your muña is very happy for you today and proud of the woman you’re becoming, my child. — The emotional whisper mixed with the salty wind.

Unable to open my mouth to respond to her, I just shook my head and squeezed my hand on her arm. Aunt Rhaenys wiped away the only tear that had slipped down my cheek, and we resumed walking toward the mountaintop, where our family, the High Priest of Dragonstone, and my fiancé were waiting for us.

If muña were alive, she would be the one taking me to the sacred altar and handing me over to Daemon’s protection.

I love you, muña Aemma... and Aunt Rhaenys.

The sky was a dense gray blanket, and no sunlight had enough strength to break through it. The wind was strong, and the temperature was a little warmer than the day before. It seemed like it wouldn’t rain anytime soon, although Aunt Dhaerys had mentioned that Meistre Gerardys had guaranteed another storm during the night. Despite that, it was a beautiful day in my eyes.

The scent of sulfur mixed with smoke was intense in the air.

A sudden symphony of roars made me look up. At first, I widened my eyes and stopped walking abruptly, causing Rhaenys to stop beside me. Above us, Caraxes, Syrax, and Tennebris were flying in circles, lazily flapping their wings just to stay in the air. Vhagar, Meleys, Seasmoke, Dreamfyre, Arrax, and Moondancer were accompanying them. But my amazement came from the fact that the Bronze Fury and the Silverwing had left their shared cave to join the other dragons.

It was rare for Vermithor to appear with his mate Silverwing in the skies of Dragonstone. Since the passing of the Old King Jaehaerys and the Good Queen Alysanne, their former riders, the two dragons had never been ridden again.

“We, the Valyrian Gods, are blessing your marriage to the Warrior Prince and the fruits of this sacred union, the future of House Targaryen, my brave child.”

The whisper of Goddess Syrax was like a maternal caress in my ears and made me smile.

Knowing that the Valyrian Gods were blessing my marriage to Daemon brought more tears to my eyes and a sense of protection. My uncle and I were about to marry because we loved each other, because we were each other's twin flame. But also to strengthen my claim as the Heir to the Iron Throne, to prevent me from being sold as a breeding mare to the lord who gave the highest bid, and to keep the Green Serpents from draining what was left of House Targaryen.

Balerion's hell would reign inside the Red Keep when the Puppet King and the leeches found out about my Valyrian marriage to the Lord of the Flea Bottom.

— Are you okay, my dear? — Aunt Rhaenys diverted her curious gaze from the dragons’ dance in the sky and looked at me kindly. I smiled at her and nodded positively. — Then let’s go, before my cousin comes to see the reason for such a delay from his bride. — She laughed softly.

I shook my head again, with an emotional sob caught in my throat.

“My beautiful and wild girl...” Syrax’s whisper sounded in my mind like a gentle caress as her sovereign roar echoed above us. Tennebris and Caraxes imitated her with great enthusiasm. I smiled as I gazed at my Golden Lady in the sky. “I’m so happy you’re joining your twin flame. I love you, my princess.”

I sniffled discreetly, and a single tear slipped down.

“I love you too, my lady.” I replied through our mental connection.

Another gust of wind danced between us, making the old linen dress, which had rough fabric in cream and red tones, sway slightly above my ankles. Aunt Dhaerys had braided some strands and pinned them into a simple hairstyle, allowing most of my hair to fall around me like a cascading silver-curled waterfall. It was Aunt Rhaenys who placed the ancestral headdress on my head and gifted me a pair of ruby earrings.

In a way, wearing the same outfit that belonged to Queen Visenya, which she wore to marry King Aegon and Queen Rhaenys in the traditions of House Targaryen, brought more symbolism to my own marriage to Daemon.

My own marriage to Daemon...

My vision blurred with unshed tears, and words no longer had the strength to escape my mouth. Not anymore. Not when I finally saw him, the exact moment my lilac eyes met his, so purple and bright. Daemon, my handsome fiancé and deeply beloved uncle, was standing at the altar, just ahead of the High Priest of Dragonstone. He was wearing old clothes in the same color as my dress and a cloak symbolizing the origins of Valyria.

A tiny, almost insignificant part of my mind registered the presence of my Aunt Dhaerys and her daughters, Alicent, the Velaryons, and Meistre Gerardys.

We were made to burn together, he whispered to me last night.

— Princess... — Daemon whispered, in a deep and restrained tone. I could recognize how moved and anxious he also felt. His gaze of pure love and burning passion swept over me from head to toe with a discreet gasp. His attention briefly fell on the Valyrian steel necklace that adorned my neck, and satisfaction filled his expression. — My princess. — He extended a hand toward me.

There, one step from climbing the sacred altar, I was just Rhaenyra, a young girl with intense emotions, loving the man in front of me with all my heart. For a few hours, there would be no weight or complications of being the Heir to the Iron Throne, a Princess of Blood, the King’s daughter, or a Warrior Princess looming over my shoulders. I was surrounded by my true family, who loved, protected, and respected me.

No one would whisper about the tears freely falling from my face or the wide smile on my lips.

— Daemon... — I accepted his outstretched hand and climbed the last step of the small staircase, standing on the same level as him. — My prince. — I placed my slightly damp palm on his cheek and brushed my thumb over his slightly parted lips.

Once, I heard someone say that the eyes were like the windows to our soul, and, looking into his eyes, I finally understood the truth in every word.

Daemon's soul was completely exposed in his eyes.

He released one hand from mine and placed his warm palm on my cheek. I tilted my head to the side to enjoy his touch more, and almost closed my eyes to fully savor the gentle caress. He was mine. My inner dragon purred in ecstasy and possessiveness. I took a deep breath with this certainty. Daemon moved closer to me, briefly touched his forehead to mine, and gave me a sweet kiss on my lips.

I moved just a few centimeters away and looked at our family gathered together.

— Don’t cry, girls. — I recognized Dhaerys's low voice, mixed with two feminine sobs. — Oh, Valyrian Gods, help me. — She muttered quietly. — Alicent? Laena?

One of them sniffled discreetly and murmured softly:

— Sorry, love, but we’re... — Alicent was interrupted by another sob. — Too emotional to hold back.

— Yes... Aunt Dhaerys. — My cousin Laena agreed, not in a better state than our friend. — Very emotional.

With a soft smile and a heart overflowing with peace, I turned away from my two ladies-in-waiting. I looked back at Daemon and was gifted with a beautiful smile. Silently, he watched me. There was tenderness, devotion, love, and a burning passion shining in his violet eyes. The beautiful smile grew larger, more evident, and I almost heard him purring a “mine” in High Valyrian. My cheeks reddened slightly, but I shared the same possessive feeling and wasn’t embarrassed at all.

We are dragons, possessive creatures, with only one companion.

The calloused hand slid down to my neck, and a finger brushed against my slightly parted lips.

I smiled against his loving touch, my heart galloping and my stomach stirring as if it had dragon wings. Daemon pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. My hand found its way to his neck, and I wound my fingers through his short strands. A bright red point suddenly caught my attention. I was a little surprised when I realized he had pierced both of his earlobes and was wearing ruby earrings that matched mine.

— A gift from Rhaenys. — He whispered when he noticed my curious gaze. His finger touched my own ruby earring. — She gave them to me when I told her I wanted to pierce my earlobes for our wedding, like King Aegon, passion.

— Beautiful. — I licked my lips. — You look more handsome, Uncle.

The strong wind stirred his short strands, and one fell over his eyes.

— Are you ready for this wedding? To bind your soul, heart, and blood in the ancient traditions of House Targaryen? — The High Priest of Dragonstone asked. We turned to him and nodded. The old man smiled kindly and continued speaking in Valyrian: — Let’s begin the ceremony, then.

We were at the top of a mountain, facing the sea with dark, turbulent waters. The castle with the black stones of Dragonstone loomed high, ancient, and magnificent behind us. On the sacred altar, only the High Priest, Daemon, and I stood. Fourteen candles, representing the 14 Valyrian Gods, remained lit and intense, despite the strong wind. The red banners with the image of a three-headed dragon fluttered in all directions.

Next to the High Priest, there was a table with an ancient chalice, a piece of dragonglass, and a red cloth with golden embroidery. My heart raced with what would happen in the next few seconds. Our wedding would be a blood ritual. Daemon and I were about to unite in this life and the next as one soul, heart, and flesh.

Because being with Daemon in a single life was far too little time.

The Priest, with a loud and powerful tone, began reciting ancient prayers in Valyrian. He invoked the Valyrian Gods with passion and extreme respect. The old man murmured the name of each God and asked for their blessings upon our marriage and the future fruits of our love. With each word spoken in song, the magic that surrounded us intensified, and the flame of the 14 candles grew taller, even though the wind continued to blow strongly.

— Make your vows now. — The High Priest instructed us.

Almost completely oblivious to what was happening around us, hearing only the joyful and mystical song that had become the roars of dragons in the sky, we gazed at each other for a few seconds. The wide and emotional smile on my future husband’s face reflected my own. Purple is blending perfectly with lilac. He extended his hands, slightly trembling and with sweaty palms, to hold my small fingers adorned with rings between his.

Bound by fire, blood, soul, heart, and flesh.

— In you, I found the fire that warms my soul and the storm that challenges me. I promise to be your faithful companion, even when the skies roar and the seas rage. — He was the first to speak the words that bound our souls in this life and the next. — My love, like Valyrian steel, our union is indestructible. I promise to love you in all seasons, to be your sword, never leaving your side, your protector, the father of your children, to be whoever you need me to be, until the last sun fades.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I had to hold back a sob. The love I thought was already infinite for Daemon grew even more and overflowed from my soul at the end of his vows. I took a deep breath and licked my lips, eagerly. Amidst all the love, devotion, and passion he poured onto me just with his gaze, there was also a playful sparkle. He knew how nervous I was, after all.

— In you, I found the fire that warms my soul and the storm that challenges me. I promise to be your faithful companion, even when the skies roar and the seas rage. — I paused briefly, and warm tears rolled down my cheeks. — My beloved, like Valyrian steel, our union is indestructible. I promise to love you in all seasons, to be a sword, never leaving your side, to be your protector, the mother of your children, whoever you need, until the last sun fades.

A few almost solitary tears escaped Daemon’s eyes.

— My love... — His whisper was almost inaudible.

By reflex, I shuddered a little when Daemon used the dragonglass to make a small cut on my lower lip. The blood trickled down in a fine line and dripped onto my chin. There was no pain, just great magic and powerful emotion in the gesture. He smeared his thumb with my blood and drew a fire rune on my forehead.

— We were made to burn together, kepus.

Dizzy from so much emotion and love, I held the dragonglass and made a tiny cut on his lower lip. A red pearl formed at the spot. His dark and deeply loving eyes never left mine. I gathered the blood with my finger and drew the blood rune on Daemon’s forehead.

— In this life and the next, passion.

He took the dragonglass again and made a cut on my palm using the sharp tip. I furrowed my brow slightly, and the metallic taste appeared on my tongue when I pressed my lips. He looked at me with an apologetic, silent air, and I forced a smile to try to reassure him.

My blood dripped.

I held his palm in my hand and carefully passed the blade. The crimson liquid seemed to flow as the sharp tip of the glass passed on his skin. My eyes filled with tears, and a sob caught in my throat. Although cutting each other’s palms was part of our wedding ceremony, I felt bad for hurting him in any way.

— It’s alright, my passion. — He assured me as tears rolled down my face when I saw him hurt. — There’s no pain, not when it means I’m binding myself to you.

I smiled as I looked into his eyes.

We joined our cut palms, making our blood merge into one. The intense crimson liquid mixed, dripping into the chalice, which already contained some wine.

United by blood.

— Blood of two united as one. — The High Priest began to make the vows in High Valyrian and wrapped the red cloth with golden details around our united hands. — Ghostly flame and song of shadows.

Daemon took the chalice, which contained our blood mixed with wine, and drank a little without taking his eyes off me.

— A future promised in glass, witnessed by the stars.

I took the chalice and brought it to my lips, feeling the strange and not-too-bad taste touch my tongue.

— The vow, spoken through time, of darkness and light. — The High Priest finished the vows and released our hands.

The fourteen flames, a representation, and homage to each Valyrian God, rose higher at the end of the wedding. The wind became stronger, but not enough to extinguish a single flame. I felt the ancient magic seep deeper into my flesh, settling into my bones and taking over my heart. I was the daughter of Old Valyria, a dragon through and through. I was blessed by the Gods and protected by the Goddess Syrax, since my birth.

I was the Dragon Princess.

The roars were louder than before, the intense wind stopped abruptly, and the fourteen flames didn’t fail. Just looking at my husband, I knew he felt the same. Daemon was also a son of Old Valyria, a complete dragon.

He was the Warrior Prince.

‘’Now, he is also blessed by the Gods and protected by the God Caraxes, Dragon Princess.’’

The whisper of Goddess Syrax filled my ears with sweetness.

— Husband. — I whispered, emotional and teary. It was incredible and spine-chilling how a single word could be so right, so powerful. — You are now my husband, Daemon. — I moved a strand of hair from his forehead with my trembling fingers.

Daemon placed one hand on my waist, pulling me closer, and set his right palm on my cheek. My skin seemed to become feverish with his rough, loving touch. Time seemed to stop, for the second time. I immersed myself in the violet depths and bathed in Daemon’s infinite love.

— Wife. — He smiled openly. — Now, you are my wife, my love.

When I was enveloped by his warmth and his lips claimed mine in a passionate kiss for the first time that day, Daemon Targaryen, the infamous Rebel Prince, had already become my husband.

♛

Notes:

Well, this is their wedding chapter. Now, do you want to read the consummation chapter? It's fully explicit.

Chapter 25: Chapter 20.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

Well, well, after the beautiful Valyrian wedding, now comes the consummation ui ui

Guys, there will be a lot of swearing and the sex scene is very explicit, so be warned.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 20.

‘ ’Avy jorraelan .’’

Dragonstone , 113 AC.

My cheeks warmed, and the blush stood out immediately as I stood in front of the mirror. My lilac eyes, slightly widened in shock, analyzed my reflection with a hint of shyness, though a strong pang of vanity infiltrated me. Biting down on my lower lip, I tossed the cascade of silver curls back and saw how the nightgown seemed to have been made perfectly to fit my body.

I felt very beautiful, a true Delight of the Realm, as my uncle-husband had nicknamed me years ago.

My uncle-husband...

A love struck sigh escaped from deep within my chest, and I forced myself to finish examining my reflection in the mirror. Made of white silk and incredibly soft to the touch, the nightgown was remarkably sheer and had a bit of lace at the height of my breasts. Despite that, the fabric didn’t hide my nudity one bit.

It had been a gift from my aunt, Dhaerys.

"— Aunt Saera gifted my wife with a nightgown made from this fabric on our first night as wives... — Dhaerys commented while undoing my braids. Holding back a laugh, I saw how Alicent turned as red as her dress. — Lili almost became a widow before we even consummated our marriage. — She laughed loudly. — Then, it's my little brother's turn to feel unwell when he sees his wife in a Volantis nightgown. — Her purple eyes sparkled with joy and malice."

I laughed softly.

My cheeks warmed again when my attention shifted to the mirror. The transparency of the nightgown was so great that I could see the few, well-groomed hairs of my femininity. I sighed deeply and moved toward the vanity, where I grabbed the brush to run through my already well-brushed locks, done by Dhaerys and Laena. My slightly trembling hands and the racing of my heart didn’t help calm me down.

It wouldn't be the first time we were naked in front of each other.

In fact, during our two-month stay at the Steps, Daemon and I began to get to know each other more physically as well. During this time, I discovered how my uncle could be an incredible lover, generous, and passionate in our bed. Although I remained a maiden, he explored my body as if it were a map and introduced me to the height of physical passion with his tongue, mouth, and fingers.

Daemon also allowed me to touch him, to explore his strong, scarred body, and to start learning what he liked in bed.

— There's no reason for all this nervousness. — I reminded myself, irritated. — Daemon is your husband, not some fucking stranger. — I whispered. As soon as reality set in, my heart raced again. — He is my husband... — I touched my lower lip, where he had cut me with the tip of the dragonglass. — The Warrior Prince is really my husband.

After spending the day celebrating my marriage to Daemon and our families with a beautiful feast in the Great Hall, fulfillment and joy overflowed from my soul. This intense happiness was a new and more than welcome feeling in my life. Marrying the man I loved was the best decision I’ve ever made. There would be grave consequences, and my rise to the Iron Throne would be at stake.

The worms of King’s Landing would go mad when the news of the Heir to the Throne’s marriage reached their ears.

A wicked smile danced on my lips as I thought about what would happen soon.

Daemon and I would stay in Dragonstone for a few more days to have some privacy and moments of peace as newlyweds. And we knew that Balerion’s hell would reign over the land when we stepped into King’s Landing, and they discovered our marriage. However, before anything else, we had a plan to make Viserys “give” the Stepstones exclusively to Daemon, with no ties or interference from the Crown in the islands.

And I already knew very well what to whisper in my father’s ear.

Putting the brush aside, my fingers rested on the most recent gift given to me by Daemon on the eve of our wedding. My smile turned sweet as I thought of him and how excited he was to give me a present. My uncle-husband always loved giving me beautiful things and never skimped. And I, as a good spoiled princess, loved everything I received from his generous hands.

"— There are rumors that this tiara belonged to Empress Leng. — Daemon whispered softly.

His purple eyes gleamed with excitement and anxiety. I sighed softly, so enchanted and in love with the beautiful piece that I couldn’t find the words to say anything coherent out loud.

— It’s... — I licked my lips. — Beautiful, kepus."

The candlelight seemed to make the Empress Leng's tiara even more mystical, almost surreal in its beauty. I was used to seeing beautiful jewelry, from the simplest to the most extravagant. Being a Targaryen and a Blood Princess gave me access to treasures and unique pieces. However, the beautiful jade tiara was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my entire life.

I placed the tiara on the vanity when I heard the heavy door being opened and closed.

The former chamber of Queen Visenya seemed to have been hit by a sudden wave of heat, completely unexpected, the moment he passed through the door.

I didn’t open my mouth to murmur anything, nor did I turn to meet my husband’s gaze. I simply listened as he approached, his slow and calculated steps like those of a cunning predator, heading in my direction. For a brief moment, my breath caught in my throat, and my body was filled with a tension of pure expectation.

There was a growing tension in the air, almost palpable.

The silence between us became heavier, though it was far from uncomfortable or unpleasant. It was an intense and exciting feeling. I swallowed dryly again, feeling the heat in my belly intensify. No words were whispered aloud. With my heart galloping in my chest and my palms sweaty, I felt when he finally stopped right behind me.

He didn’t touch me immediately.

— Husband... — I whispered almost breathlessly. — Finally, you’re here.

His heavy, warm breath hit my neck, sending a wave of shivers through me. I bit my lower lip and swallowed a moan.

— Wife... — The whisper was almost inaudible. I shuddered slightly, hearing my new title in his life. Finally, Daemon touched me. He moved my silver curls aside and planted a lingering kiss on my shoulder. — Forgive me for the delay. My sister just released me. — He explained in a low, rough tone. — She said the wait and surprise would be worth it when I found my beautiful wife.

I breathed out softly, tilting my head to the side in a silent invitation.

He laughed softly.

I closed my eyes as his hot, slow lips traveled down to my sensitive neck, leaving a trail of slow kisses and light hickeys. The moisture between my legs intensified. Nibbling a spot below my ear, Daemon placed one large hand on my belly and pulled me back. Finally, I could feel how aroused he already was when my back pressed against his broad chest.

— So beautiful... — He kissed my shoulder. — So mine... — He let out a deep sigh of contentment. — You’re so perfect, my passion. — His warm, calloused hand covered my breast, pinching my sensitive nipple between his fingers. — My beautiful wife. — Daemon growled, possessive. — You’re only mine, aren’t you, princess?

The only response I could give was a long, breathless moan when he squeezed my nipple hard, starting to roll it between his skillful fingers.

— What’s your answer, love?

Daemon let out a wicked laugh and gave another tug to the sensitive bud, making me choke on nothing. In search of a little air, I rested my head on his shoulder and raised my arm to tangle my fingers in the strands at the nape of his neck. He let out a hoarse groan when I gave a firm tug and rubbed my ass against his erection. The hand he kept on my waist tried to hold me still, preventing me from moving.

I smirked mischievously and pressed against him again.

— Rhaenyra… — There was a warning mixed with raw, wild desire in his husky voice. — You shouldn’t tease me like this.

My mischievous smile, which Dhaerys once said was identical to Daemon’s, grew even wider as I turned within my kepus' strong arms.

The sight of my husband left me delighted, and the wetness between my legs grew stickier. His dark purple eyes and blown pupils gave him a wild look, like a dragon ready to hunt. The way Daemon panted softly through his slightly parted lips, with furrowed brows and a single strand of hair falling over his forehead, made it feel like my body was on fire.

Even more intense and desperate than the day I bonded with Syrax in Queen Visenya’s Sanctuary.

Daemon placed his right hand at the base of my neck, keeping the other on my back for support, and stared at me almost without blinking. Though raw, wild desire still pulsed between us, at that moment, it felt as if our souls were gazing into each other through our eyes. My husband and I were about to connect in a way that went far beyond the carnal act itself—we were about to entwine our lives for eternity.

A lifetime with him was far too short.

As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, Daemon claimed my lips with both passion and tenderness.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I stood on my tiptoes to press against him and deepened the kiss. My small fingers wove into the short, silky strands, allowing me to give slight tugs. His hoarse moan was lost against my mouth. His heavy hand slid down my back toward my ass, covered only by the thin fabric of my dress, where he squeezed the feverish flesh possessively.

I gasped against his lips.

My husband kissed me again with fervor, even more passion and heat than before.

I clung to his broad shoulders and parted my lips, giving his tongue the space to enter. The kiss became more urgent and clumsy with our desperation. Daemon roamed my body with eager, skillful hands, gripping and squeezing, pulling breathless moans from me. He seemed to be torn between giving attention to my breasts and my ass.

When he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, I lowered my mouth to his neck and began sucking on the soft skin. I knew how sensitive he was there. I nibbled lightly on the scarred skin, the one that had been struck by the flaming arrow, then trailed passionate kisses up to his jaw. I pulled back, panting. We locked eyes briefly before diving into another searing kiss.

My husband closed his eyes and let out a loud groan the moment my palm pressed over his hard cock. Daemon looked at me with anticipation and bit his lower lip as I stroked him over the fabric of his pants.

— Fuck, love! — he cursed between quick, uneven pants. My nipples hardened even more, standing out against the sheer fabric of my nightgown. — You look like a goddess in this damn see-through piece, Passion. — His eyes burned with lust and danger. — Remind me to thank my wretched older sister later.

Daemon pulled me up by the waist, making me wrap my legs around him. I threw my arms around his neck, and he planted one hand on my bare ass while the other remained on my back. I raised an eyebrow at my husband and earned a mischievous laugh in response. I rolled my eyes but said nothing—after all, I loved touching and looking at his bare ass just as much.

He lowered me to the floor at the foot of the bed and kissed me again, though this time it was sweeter and slower. I eagerly reciprocated while my fingers began unfastening the buckles of his black leather jerkin. Soon, he was left wearing only his red tunic, black pants, and boots. My uncle-husband stepped back and, for the first time that night, truly took in the sight of what I was wearing.

My cheeks flushed under the overwhelming and scorching gaze Daemon gave me.

His eyes were so dark, they reminded me of Tennebris’ scales. My uncle-husband looked completely mesmerized, staring at me with a mix of passion, hunger, and devotion. Despite the growing heat on my face, I couldn't deny how high my ego soared. My heart pounded even harder when Daemon dropped to his knees on the floor and looked up. I licked my lips and buried my fingers in his short hair.

Daemon had become even more handsome with short hair and wearing ruby earrings.

— My Valyrian goddess… — he murmured, his breath heavy. I bit my lower lip and tugged his hair slightly, making him close his eyes. — My queen… — A hoarse moan slipped through his slightly parted lips. — As your husband, allow me to worship you properly tonight.

With flushed cheeks and a pleasurable warmth intensifying in my belly, I locked eyes with my love’s beautiful face and let the nightgown slide off my body slowly. Finally, the “indecent” piece pooled around my feet. Daemon said nothing, too focused on devouring me with his eyes and swallowing hard. My smile widened, along with the growing feeling of power within me.

— Do you truly wish to worship me, uncle? As my husband tonight? — The words slipped from my mouth slowly and seductively, which only seemed to fuel his lust. Taking a deep breath, I sat on the edge of the bed and spread my legs in front of him. His Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly as he stared at my exposed femininity. — Then worship your queen tonight, kepus.

I barely remembered the insecurity that had once made me nervous. Now, I felt like a true Valyrian goddess, the most beautiful woman Daemon had ever laid eyes on in all his 28 name days.

— With immense pleasure, my love. — His mischievous smile sent another wave of wetness to my throbbing, achingly empty core. I needed the attention of his fingers and tongue so badly. — Lie down, Rhaenyra.

I lay in the middle of the enormous bed, feeling the softness of the silk sheet against my bare skin, and kept my eyes on him. Daemon raised an eyebrow, and a smug smile played on his reddened lips as he took off his tunic and boots. My breath hitched the moment his glorious, muscular chest, sprinkled with scars, was exposed to the flickering light of the few candles lit. I ended up rubbing my legs together to create some friction.

When we first began to get physically acquainted, one night, he confessed that he had a certain insecurity about his scars and even noticed how women, prostitutes, would make a slight grimace when they saw them scattered across his chest.

— You’re so beautiful, uncle. — It was a truth I never tired of telling him.

Daemon’s smile widened, pleased. He climbed onto the bed and came toward me, positioning himself above me. Supporting myself on my elbows, I rose slightly and sought his soft lips for a passionate kiss. We kissed slowly. I lay back down and looked down, frowning when I saw he was still wearing his pants.

— I’ll take my pants off later, passion.

He lay partially over me, his legs between mine. The sudden contact of his pants, where it was clear how excited Daemon was, against my sensitive center, disoriented me a little. I gasped loudly, burying my fingers in his short hair and digging my nails into his back. I didn’t hesitate to scratch him. Kepus buried his head in my neck and let out a muffled groan, starting to thrust against me.

— Dae-emo-on... — I gasped and closed my eyes when he bit my neck. — Fuck, uncle! — I cursed, breathless.

He laughed and kissed down toward my shoulder.

I arched my back and pulled harder on his hair when his warm mouth began to suck on my breast. Meanwhile, Daemon started massaging my other breast with his calloused free hand, pinching my nipple between his fingers. Then, he kissed his way down to my belly, sucking on the sensitive skin there. He left a strong bite on the bone of my hip, making me jump on the bed.

He laughed loudly at my reaction.

Supporting myself on my elbows for the second time, I stared at him and pouted indignantly.

— Uncle!

My husband’s smug smile was breathtaking.

— I won’t apologize, my passion. — He murmured, amused.

I was about to give a cheeky response; however, the words died on my tongue. Oh, fuck! My mind was so confused. I could only moan in desperation, gasp loudly, and raise my hips in search of more contact when he touched me. Daemon had spread my legs wide, lying between them, and suddenly plunged his tongue into my center. I lay back and gripped his silver hair more tightly.

— Ah... Uncle! — My cry of pleasure seemed to echo through the room as Daemon focused on sucking my clit and penetrating me with two fingers. — Love! — I closed my legs around his head when he sucked harder.

The wet sound of his fingers entering and exiting my intimacy was so erotic.

The air seemed to get stuck in my throat as he returned to licking my entrance, and his rough thumb focused on caressing my nerve bundle. I opened my mouth in a silent scream while squeezing the sheet between my fingers and arching my hips again against his face. Daemon licked me like a hungry man, and his large hand kept my thighs spread wide for his pleasure.

There would probably be purple marks on me by the morning.

I jumped on the bed when he focused on my most sensitive spot and resumed penetrating me with two fingers, adding a third right after.

I intertwined my fingers in Daemon's hair and started grinding against his face, chasing my release. In response to my desperation, kepus replaced his fingers with his tongue and turned his attention to my sensitive spot with his thumb, making circular motions. I moaned loudly and abandoned the sheet to sink my nails into his tense back. I scratched him mercilessly and screamed without caring if anyone would hear.

The heat in my abdomen intensified, and my breathing quickened.

— Oh, husband! — I screamed again. My center pulsed around his tongue while waves of shivers overtook me, and I couldn't stop pulling his hair. — More... Like this... Uncle! — I exclaimed, shuddering with pleasure and relief when the peak of release finally hit me. My legs went limp and trembling. — Damn it, Daemon! — I closed my eyes, feeling him lick me nonstop.

I fell against the bed, a complete mess of disheveled hair and sweaty body. My breathing was shallow and irregular, my heart was racing uncontrollably, and the blood rushed through my veins so fast that it seemed to buzz in my ears. I shuddered and let out a whiny moan when Daemon licked me one last time.

— Husband...

With my eyes half-closed, I stared at him and was met with a wide, totally arrogant smile. His hair was also messy, and his eyes were shining with pure satisfaction and joy. His lips and chin were wet from my pleasure.

I blushed violently at the sight of my prince.

— Always delicious, my love. — He whispered, hoarse, and licked his lips. My mind, still clouded from the recent orgasm, registered when he took off his pants, and his hard cock sprang out in all its glory. I started breathing quickly again. — Nyra... — Daemon grunted, touching himself, not stopping his gaze from me.

I opened my legs to accommodate him back, and Daemon’s look became even more wild and perverse. My husband still stayed for a few seconds, just observing me hungrily while jerking off. I gave him a provocative smile and raised an eyebrow, slipping a hand toward my exposed femininity for him. I started to penetrate myself and let out a moan that sounded more like a spoiled whimper.

At no moment did we stop staring at each other.

With a hoarse grunt, my uncle-husband climbed onto the bed and began kissing my belly.

My skin tingled, and my nipples hardened at the contact of his wet tongue on me. His hungry, warm lips sucked on my breasts before licking my collarbones and sucking my neck in three different spots. I dug my nails into his broad back and wrapped my legs around his waist. We both moaned when the tip of his erection brushed against my wet, sensitive folds.

— Ah... Fuck, Rhaenyra! — He grunted, his mouth pressed to my skin. I closed my eyes and held him by the hair, pulling him closer. We moaned again as Daemon rubbed his pulsing, hot cock against me. — You... You... Damn it! — He raised his head and took my lips in a hungry kiss.

We kissed with hunger, hands touching endlessly, lips frantic, and breathes uncontrolled.

Daemon pulled away, gazing at my face with deep love, and gave me a tender smile. The lust, the raw and impetuous fire, still burned hot in our veins, like the blood of the Dragon. However, love and affection had also become part of the most intimate and unique moment we would ever experience, together for the first time as a couple, blessed by the Valyrian Gods.

— Love... — I placed my palm on his cheek and nodded. — I'm ready. — Though my heart raced, I was sure of what I had said.

I was Daemon's, and he was mine. We were already united by fire, blood, soul, and heart. Now the time had come to finally connect through flesh as well. It was meant to be. We were born in different eras, but the Valyrian Gods created us for each other.

We are twin flames, made to burn together and set the world on fire side by side.

Daemon lowered his head and placed a kiss on my lips, meeting my gaze once again.

— If it hurts, or I hurt you, let me know immediately, darling. — He asked, whispering. I nodded again. My husband took his own cock and carefully positioned it at my entrance. — Do you trust me? — He locked his eyes with mine. Lust, anxiety, and a hint of concern mixed on his sweaty face. — You’re really wet, but it will still hurt a little, love.

I smiled, feeling my heart beat steadily, and a sense of peace flooded me. Holding his face in my hands, I lifted my head slightly and kissed his lips. When we met eyes again, I whispered softly, my voice deep and completely in love with the Rebel Prince:

— I trust you, Daemon. I’ve always trusted you, and I won’t hesitate now. — I brushed the damp lock of sweat from his forehead. His gaze became brighter, almost teary. — I’m already your wife by fire, blood, soul, and heart... — My heart started to race again. — Now, take me as your wife in the flesh. Claim completely the woman who has always belonged to you, uncle. Make me yours completely.

His breath quickened, and a growl vibrated from his chest. My center pulsed with anticipation, and the wetness increased. The heat seemed to engulf me and spread like wildfire throughout my body. The sweetest moment faded away, giving way to the raw and wild desire that came before.

Yes! Yes!

— Mine. You’re mine, sweet niece. My wife. — He hissed, low and dangerous. Another growl vibrated from his chest. — You’ve always belonged to me, Rhaenyra.

Anxiously, I shook my head and licked my lips, so in need of a kiss from him.

— Yours, only yours, Daemon.

I could barely make out the purple in his eyes, only the black of his dilated pupils.

My center pulsed more, empty and longing for him.

My breath became irregular as the tip of his erection began to nudge me, gently opening a path inside of me. Daemon never looked away from my eyes and placed his hand on my thigh, squeezing the flesh. So different from his fingers. I breathed more deeply as it started to burn and dragged my nails back down his back.

He intertwined his free hand with mine and pinned them above my head.

He continued to open a path inside me, inch by inch. I tensed up as the burning and pain intensified a little, but I nodded at the silent question from my husband. The sensation of being stretched, of being filled, was a bit uncomfortable. Finally, Daemon was completely inside me, and there was a strong pressure I had never experienced. A few tears escaped, which were wiped away by his lips.

My body was tense, so I took a deep breath to begin relaxing and accepting him better.

— Forgive me, my passion — he whispered, kissing my cheeks, forehead, and lips repeatedly. — I'm sorry.

I touched his face and hurried to shake my head.

— There's nothing to forgive, kepus — I smiled reassuringly. — I knew it would hurt my first time.

He kissed my lips once again.

— When you're ready, let me know, and I'll start moving, love.

— You can move, husband.

Daemon nodded.

At first, my husband began with slow and rhythmic movements. The slight discomfort and pain persisted for a bit, but soon faded away. A different pleasure, more intense and burning, began to course through me. After a while, I started lifting my hips to meet his thrusts. His large hand slid from my thigh to my belly, where he gripped me firmly. Daemon parted his lips to pant softly and lowered his tempestuous gaze to the point that connected us.

He groaned loudly when he saw how I swallowed him.

— Damn! — His chest, marked with numerous scars, rose and fell quickly. He licked his lips and lifted his head, staring at me. — Nyra... — He leaned in and took my mouth in a passionate kiss.

I needed more of him, wanted him harder, for him to fuck me without any worries, without fear of hurting me.

I kissed him with more hunger, my lips eager and demanding against his. He reciprocated with the same enthusiasm. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I circled his waist with my legs and dug my heels into his ass, making him bury himself deeper inside me. His desperate groan mixed with mine, and Daemon pulled away just enough to look into my eyes.

— Passion... — He murmured between quick breaths, his black eyes and furrowed brow showing pleasure. My uncle-husband looked like he was in agony. — You... you... what... Fuck! — He closed his eyes and groaned hoarsely as I began to tighten around his dick. — Damn, princess!

Panting as much as he was, I hurried to murmur almost desperately:

— Fuck me hard, uncle. — I licked my lips and moaned quietly afterward. — Please... Daemon. — I gave him a tearful look and pulled the strands at the back of his neck, just the way he liked it. — I want... more... Fuck me, please, husband!

Something seemed to break inside him.

Daemon cursed, his gaze more wild and dangerous than ever.

He grabbed a pillow to place under my hips and left me with my legs open for him. I swallowed hard at the look he gave me. After kneeling between my thighs, he entered me for the second time and held my waist with both hands. The familiar arrogant and sly smile grew on his sweaty face. Kepus began thrusting, slower at first, but gaining strength and speed in seconds.

He was pounding into me without mercy.

My whole body trembled on the bed, a dull pain mixing with indescribable pleasure. The heat from my belly seemed to spread to every limb and cloud my thoughts, the blood ran faster through my veins, and a loud buzzing filled my ears. Squinting my eyes, I stared at him and moaned loudly at the sight I had.

My handsome prince kept thrusting his hips against me uncontrollably.

He was panting loudly, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, his eyes half-closed, and his cheeks flushed.

His silver hair was completely disheveled, and the damn lock of hair fell over his forehead, damp with sweat. As if he felt he was the target of my passionate and desirous gaze, he raised his head, and the dimple appeared when he smiled. My fingers tangled in the sheets, and a scream of pleasure escaped the moment his dick hit an incredible spot inside me.

— Do you like it like this, my love? — He thrust again in the same spot, tearing another scream from me. The arrogant smile grew. — Look at you... — His attention slid over my naked body and focused on the spot where we were joined. He groaned in abandonment. — You’re so... — He gasped. — So incredible... swallowing your husband’s cock beautifully, sweet niece.

The snarky response died on my lips the moment his thumb made contact with my nerve bundle.

The way he started rubbing it in strong, circular movements, pinching it at times, made my mind go numb with pleasure. The sensation was so powerful it seemed to affect every nerve in my body. I planted the soles of my feet firmly on the mattress and started moving, meeting his hard and rhythmic thrusts.

I needed to come soon!

— Damn, Daemon! — I roared, not caring if I was being quiet. — More! More! I need to come, hell!

I heard his mocking laugh, but I couldn’t respond. Oh, no! Suddenly, I wasn’t lying on the mattress anymore, and, instead, I was sitting on his lap. I widened my eyes a bit and gasped loudly. In this position, his cock went even deeper inside me, reaching a deeper spot. Although it hurt a little, the sensation of pleasure was greater.

Daemon and I shared a mischievous smile.

— Your wish is my command, my queen.

I pulled him into a desperate kiss while Daemon held my ass and helped me begin to ride his cock.

In seconds, I found the right rhythm and started moving on his lap quickly, pulling loud sighs and moans of pleasure from both of us. The sound of flesh slapping violently against empty flesh filled the room. He started rubbing my clit with his thumb again, and I shuddered violently. The heat intensified, and my inner walls began to contract.

— Daemon! — I screamed, finally reaching release. I grabbed his short hair and scratched his back, too weak to continue riding him. — Damn! — I whimpered when the tip of his erection hit that incredible spot again.

My husband cursed and groaned against my hair, reaching his own peak.

— Rhaenyra! — He howled as the hot stream filled me and spilled between us.

Completely limp and tired, I dropped my head on his shoulder, and he held me.

I trembled a little, feeling that my legs and arms no longer belonged to me. Daemon laughed and kissed my forehead, covered by some sweaty strands of hair. I hugged him around the waist and kissed his neck, noticing him shudder. I let out a little laugh but whimpered when he pulled out of me. His warm hand went to my back, and he began to stroke me soothingly.

— Are you okay, baby? — Daemon asked, whispering. Believing I wouldn’t have the strength to answer him, I nodded. He let out another laugh. — Rhaenyra? — He spoke again after a while.

Now more rested, I sat up straighter on his lap and looked at him curiously. Daemon returned my gaze with adoration and love. He held my face and pressed his forehead against mine, then whispered:

— Avy jorraelan, zaldrītsos.

Feeling as if his declaration was a physical touch, I closed my eyes and responded in the same low, passionate tone:

— Avy jorraelan, kepus.

♛

Notes:

So Daemon and Rhaenyra have already secured their first babies.

I LOVE

Chapter 26: Interlude 3.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

Sorry for being away for so long, but I’m back with the chapter where Nyra and Daemon return to King’s Landing. There will be a death along the chapter.

Happy reading!

♛

Interlude 3.

"The true future of House of the Dragon.’’

King's Landing, 113 A.C.

Rhaenyra Targaryen let out a scream and laughed joyfully as her beloved dragon made a sudden maneuver. They were flying through the clouds—the bright, strong sun behind them, casting the golden scales of Syrax shimmering like melted gold—when Syrax dove toward Blackwater Bay, plummeting. Rhaenyra tightened her grip on the reins, feeling her heart race and the adrenaline explode through her veins.

The strong wind buzzed in her ears as it hit the flushed face of the Princess Heir and swept her long silver braids behind her. Syrax roared again in all her glory and power. The sound merged and echoed with the bubbly, euphoric laughter of her rider. They shared the same feelings of freedom and satisfaction that only the sky could provide. After all, they were soulmates.

Thousands of feet from the ground, there were no lying whispers, false sweet smiles, unbridled betrayals, veiled judgments, serpents in sheep's clothing acting like merciful souls, no one trying to kill her to usurp the cursed Iron Throne, and no memory of the weak and useless King, who wore the Crown of Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

In the skies, for two long years, it had been just her and Syrax. Now Daemon, Caraxes, and Tennebris had joined them.

“Dracarys!” Rhaenyra screamed, her hands firm on the reins and a wide smile on her face. The Golden Lady roared in agreement with her rider. They were still in free fall, just moments away from the cold, dark waters of the bay. “Dracarys, Syrax!” The command came alongside her joyful, wild laughter.

Only a few meters from hitting the waters of Blackwater Bay, Syrax opened her massive mouth, exposing her sharp, deadly teeth, and the golden glow appeared at the back of her throat. As the torrent of flames touched the water, steam rose, and the heat surrounded them. The golden dragon tilted sideways, and the tip of her wing dipped, causing the Princess Heir to hold on tightly to the saddle and scream. After a few seconds, the Golden Lady flapped her immense body and rose toward the sky once again.

A little disheveled and with her riding clothes soaked, Rhaenyra laughed uncontrollably.

“Thank you, my love!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Syrax let out a series of clicks, which Rhaenyra had started mimicking after so much time with her companion, both of them happy and satisfied.

"Always, my wild girl!"

Leaving Dragonstone behind and heading to King's Landing was a decision that she and her husband would have to make at the moment. Spending an entire week, after returning from the war and uniting in a magical Valyrian marriage, on the island of their ancestors was something that Rhaenyra and Daemon both needed so much. It was true that it had only been a few days of rest and peace away from the hell that awaited them, but they had managed to connect more deeply than they had expected.

Having him as a husband, being able to sleep next to Daemon, and not fearing that someone would catch them in an intimate moment was something incredible.

The Dragon Princess and the Warrior Prince longed to stay a few more days on Dragonstone, but they could no longer delay their reunion with King Viserys and his court of serpents in sheep’s clothing. Not when the fat leeches of Oldtown had managed to buy some people who swore loyalty to the Heir to the Iron Throne, only to sell themselves for mere gold coins.

Two guards, four servants, and the castellan of Dragonstone, Ser Alfred Broome.

These seven people had broken their oath of loyalty to Rhaenyra and were being paid by Otto Hightower to spy on her. They were all instructed to maintain the appearance of normalcy, not allowing any loyal allies to discover them and reveal their treachery to the Princess. Furthermore, their mission was simple: to observe every step, every whisper, whom she spoke to, and any visitors who came to the castle. All collected information was to be sent to the worm through one of his spies.

It wasn’t a great surprise to Rhaenyra when she discovered that the former castellan, Ser Alfred, was the first to become a traitor in her castle. She had already suspected him and had asked Meister Gerardys to keep an eye out for any suspicious actions from the man before she left for the war. And the wretched man had even chosen the servants and guards to assist him.

Ser Alfred Broome had agreed to help the fat leech of Oldtown out of hatred for the Princess Heir and her “unnatural” actions. Like so many others, both noble and common, he believed that a woman should never wield a sword, let alone enter a war—a place that should only have men. A woman, whether noble or common, should only be submissive, satisfy her husband’s desires, and bear him heirs.

A Princess riding a monstrous, fire-breathing beast? It was blasphemy against the true Gods of Westeros, the Seven Who Are One. A woman becoming the first ruling Queen? It was unnatural, a mistake that could never happen.

Baelon Targaryen, who should have been the next to ascend to the Iron Throne once the Stranger took King Viserys, was what Ser Broome had told the two guards and three servants.

Thanks to the skill of Black Canary and her extensive spy network, she and Daemon knew who the traitors were and were able to act before any information leaked from Dragonstone and reached Otto’s hands in King’s Landing. If the king and the snakes found out about their marriage before the right moment, all their plans would be ruined. There couldn’t be the slightest mistake; one step out of line, and they would lose.

And the traitors?

While Rhaenyra and Daemon were celebrating with their family in the Great Hall, Dhaerys Targaryen and two loyal Gold Cloaks were assigned to take action. The Princess also had her own fun while torturing and extracting any useful information from the traitors. In particular, she quite enjoyed tearing Ser Broome’s tongue out and forcing him to swallow it after he called her dear niece a royal prostitute.

Dreamfyre and Tennebris greatly enjoyed burning and eating the traitors, especially the grumpy black dragon, after hearing Dhaerys comment about how the former castellan hated her girl.

Now, Dragonstone was free of traitors and spies in the service of the leeches of Oldtown. The Velaryons had already sailed to Driftmark, after all, Lord Corlys and Laenor had been away from home for two years. Alicent, Baela, Lucera, and Dhaerys had also returned to Volantis, though Daemon’s older sister still had a mission to fulfill in King’s Landing at Rhaenyra’s request.

Dhaerys was more than satisfied and willing to eliminate yet another snake who wanted her family’s downfall.

"Where is Daemon, Syrax?" Rhaenyra began to turn her head from side to side, looking up and behind as well, searching for a distinct red dot in the blue sky. Her lilac eyes couldn’t find him. "Do you feel Caraxes nearby?"

Before Syrax could respond, loud and familiar whistles sounded below them. Rhaenyra, holding herself firmly in the saddle, leaned her body to the side and smiled broadly as she saw her husband, mounted on Caraxes. They were flying just a few meters above the bay, and the long crimson tail of the dragon was swishing from side to side in the dark water. As if feeling the gaze of his passion fixed on him, Daemon raised his head and flashed a sly grin at her.

There was an unspoken challenge between them—just the exchange of glances and smiles was enough for one to know what the other was thinking at that moment.

Rhaenyra urged Syrax to fly faster, while Caraxes, with his long and agile body, dodged a mountain, taking his rider to the skies once again. The Dragonpit was the destination, and the winner would have a prize of their choice. The Bloody Worm let out happy and loving whistles to his Golden Lady, who responded with the same enthusiasm, though she didn’t slow down to look at him.

Syrax was very determined to beat her companion and make her rider happy.

Rhaenyra’s smile became wilder and more challenging as she turned around and saw her husband close behind. Her delicate silver eyebrow raised just as Daemon caught up beside her and spread his arms wide. The arrogant smile never left his face. She laughed loudly and reveled in the sight of the wind tousling his short hair. Her husband was the most handsome man. The Princess Heir winked at him and tapped her Golden Lady’s golden neck, urging her to fly higher.

Without hesitation, Daemon urged his old friend to chase them, mentally asking Caraxes not to lose sight of them for the second time.

"Dracarys!" His wife’s euphoric voice exploded, and Syrax lit up the blue sky with a torrent of fire.

In the last second, the beautiful Targaryen rider and her dragon veered, passing beneath the fireball. He still managed to hear the laughter of his beautiful, fearless wife. He had never seen her so happy and free. Daemon couldn’t stop smiling, nor did he and Caraxes deviate from the playful challenge Rhaenyra had made with her Golden Lady. No, the Warrior Prince and his Bloody Worm passed right through the fire, feeling the heat kiss them and warm them without causing any harm.

"Come on, old friend, we’ve got a race to win," Daemon murmured, tapping his leather-gloved hand on the long red neck. Caraxes roared loudly, excited by the prospect of snuggling up with his lady once again and annoyed at returning to King’s Landing. "I couldn’t disagree with you."

"We could burn all those useless pricks and put your girl on the Throne right after," The Bloody Worm suggested, very excited by the idea of setting the Red Keep on fire. "I’d love to eat the damn humans who chain me up."

Daemon laughed. Since performing Queen Visenya’s blood ritual and bonding more deeply with the red dragon, the Rebel Prince discovered how much he and Caraxes were alike. Chaotic, explosive, and vengeful. They were soulmates.

"Unfortunately, not this time, my old friend," Daemon had to disagree with his dragon, not pleased either. "But don’t worry, I’ll never let anyone chain you up anywhere again. If they dare to order it, they’ll see up close how sharp Dark Sister is." His voice promised bloodshed. The dragon hissed in agreement. "Now, brace yourself, we’re back to the nest of snakes, Caraxes." He flashed an ironic, wicked smile as they both spotted King Viserys’ city.

The vast territory of King’s Landing stretched for miles, protected by high walls and the Gold Cloaks.

King’s Landing had everything to be the most beautiful city, clean, and a strong example of governance for the other regions of the Seven Kingdoms, as it was the home of the King and the Royal Family. However, the reality was exactly the opposite when it came to the common folk. Chaos, disease, misery, death, violence, prostitution, the worst imaginable stench, filth, hunger, and the lack of necessities for a slightly dignified survival lurked in every inch of the streets, alleys, and gutters.

It was the common people who suffered the most from the King and the nobles’ neglect.

If before King Viserys Targaryen, the First of His Name, was already disliked and far from loved by the common people, his popularity became even more negative when whispers began to spread through the dirty, narrow streets of Flea Bottom.

Everything worsened when Viserys — besides never sending any help to his own brother, the beloved Prince of the City and Lord of Flea Bottom, during the two years he was imprisoned on the Steps — ordered that a mere Kingsguard bring the Heir back to King’s Landing, dragged by her hair if necessary. The same Princess who rode her Golden Lady, gathered ships with the help she could muster, and went to war while the King and members of the Court remained in the safety and luxury of the Red Keep.

The same Princess who had been winning the respect and hearts of the common people over the past two years.

The fat leeches of Oldtown and their loyal supporters tried to turn the tide and use the infamous reputation of violence and chaos of the Rebel Prince to their advantage, especially when it came to gaining favor with the nobles. The Greens’ argument was that he, Daemon Targaryen, had violently beaten and put the life of a Kingsguard, Crispin Cole, at risk without cause. And the Princess Heir was also in great danger by being alongside her wicked uncle, after all, he could dispose of her to usurp the Throne for himself.

The lying whispers spread through the halls of the Red Keep and the streets of King’s Landing uncontrollably, just as Rhaenyra had predicted.

At first, the Greens’ strategy worked very well, and Prince Daemon’s reputation became even more tarnished. However, Black Canary, her girls in Daemon’s brothels, and some Gold Cloaks, still completely loyal to their former Commander, whispered the true events that had occurred on the Stepstones.

Rhaenyra,

I am commanding your return to King’s Landing at the exact moment you are reading this letter. I have sent Ser Criston Cole to bring you back, under my express order, and drag by your hair if necessary.

In exchange for your obedience and a trouble-free return, I will be sending the remains of some food from the Red Keep being delivered to your uncle and his men, as requested by the Crown.

King Viserys I Targaryen.

The letter from King Viserys I Targaryen, First of His Name, to the Dragon Princess and the lies spread really tarnished her already decaying reputation. The Hand of the King tried to neutralize the situation and cover up the chaos, though no one seemed willing to forget the gossip surrounding the most powerful and feared names in all of Westeros. Even the name of Queen Hightower was mentioned, as some ladies “innocently” commented on how she seemed to be so worried and hysterical about the state in which Crispin Cole had returned to the Red Keep.

It might take a few years, but the Puppet King, the fat leeches of Oldtown, and the serpents in sheep's clothing would pay with fire and blood.

The Valyrian Gods do not forget to collect their debts, and those who owe them.

Neither Rhaenyra nor Daemon Targaryen.

‘’My love?’’ Daemon leaned forward slightly and extended his hand to her. Rhaenyra let out a little laugh, her cheeks turning a little pink, and accepted her husband's hand. ‘’My wife is very beautiful.’’ He sang, charmingly, as she descended the two steps of the royal carriage.

When they landed, there was a royal carriage waiting for the couple. To the immense joy of the Princess and the relief of Daemon, it was Ser Harrold Westerling who awaited them at Dragonstone. Rhaenyra had to hold herself back from running and hugging the older man, as they were surrounded by four other Kingsguard. Her lilac eyes became misty with both longing and joy, just as his did for his former sworn shield.

Daemon noticed how the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was happy and satisfied with their safe and victorious return, especially when it came to Rhaenyra.

‘’Don’t try to flatter me, husband.’’ She replied, smiling. Reluctantly, she released her husband's hand and continued teasing him in High Valyrian. ‘’Accept that my Golden Dame and I won the race between you two today.’’ A mischievous smile appeared on her beautiful doll-like face. ‘’But, I assure you that the prize I desire will benefit both you and me, my love.’’

Her purple eyes darkened, and Rhaenyra didn’t hide how much she was enjoying teasing her husband in High Valyrian.

Only a few minutes remained before her bubble of happiness and love would burst, and they would have to walk among the serpents. Contrary to what she thought during the war, the Dragon Princess didn’t feel nervous; her mind was calm and focused on the performance she would soon put on. Their plans were clear and had been discussed multiple times. And if, in the end, she was disinherited in favor of a drooling three-day-old boy, they would leave King's Landing with their heads held high, their dragons, and many gold coins in their personal coffers.

‘’Rhaenyra...’’ Daemon sighed heavily, clenching his fists. His purple eyes grew darker and wilder, the ones she had come to love even more in the past few days. ‘’Don’t tease me like that, so shamelessly.’’ He took a step forward, getting closer to his beautiful and delicious wife, but had to restrain himself.

Daemon still didn’t know whether to thank or strangle Lady Laena Velaryon and her older sister, Dhaerys Targaryen, for Rhaenyra’s new wardrobe. If before, his sweet niece-wife was already a temptation upon his mind and body, now it was even worse. The new dresses, riding clothes, pant, and feminine tunics made her body even more evident, outlining the curves of her full breasts and clearly marking the volume of her large hips.

His cock began to harden as he kept his hungry gaze on the slight neckline of her riding attire.

‘’Kepus?’’ She tilted her head to the side, blushing deliciously like a juicy, ripe strawberry. ‘’We’re not alone.’’ She reminded him, though there was a strong frustration in her low, sweet voice.

To reinforce the Princess’s words, a forced cough was heard. Daemon rolled his eyes and grunted, displeased.

‘’What is it?’’ Annoyed and frustrated, the Warrior Prince stared at the Lord Commander.

Ser Harrold smiled discreetly and murmured in a low tone:

‘’I’m sorry to interrupt, my prince, but I must remind you that we were not alone.’’

The moment Rhaenyra and Daemon were spotted in the skies, chaos ensued both in the city of King’s Landing and inside the Red Keep. Countless commoners rushed from their homes and any establishments to see the arrival of the dragons and their Valyrian riders. Since the Princess left, no beast had been seen flying, not even Vhagar or Meleys. The streets became crowded, people jostled, climbed to higher places for a better view, and fought when the royal carriage passed by.

People joyfully sang both the names of the Warrior Prince and the Dragon Princess. They still celebrated the Targaryen victory in the Stepstones war and clapped their hands.

Inside the Red Keep, servants and Kingsguard worked fervently. The King, very happy and emotional with the safe return of his little daughter, ordered the Throne Room to be prepared for the return of the Heroes of the Stepstones War, and all the nobles should be present. Not even the certainty that Daemon would be with Rhaenyra diminished his euphoria. Despite the mistake of ordering Ser Crispin to go after her that way, Viserys knew his heir would forgive him.

Ah, King Viserys, the First of His Name, how foolish you are...

‘’Hm...’’ Daemon sighed quietly and looked around, noticing how the main courtyard had only the three of them and a few guards present. Despite this, he and his wife needed to keep up appearances and the discretion that they were merely uncle and niece. ‘’Let’s get this over with.’’

Rhaenyra gave a short smile and shook her head. She would love a hot bath, a good meal, and to sleep a few hours beside her husband, but first, they had to appear at court as the Heroes of the War and stage an undeniable performance of happiness for being back home.

‘’Of course, husband.’’ Rhaenyra agreed and linked her arm with his. ‘’Let’s step on some snakes.’’

Rhaenyra and Daemon climbed the stairs, both with straight posture, chins lifted, and cold gazes. Behind them, the Lord Commander followed silently, his serious expression and eyes alert to every small movement. The older man, who had seen the princess and the prince grow up, felt proud of their war achievements and, most of all, joyful for their marriage.

‘’Announce Their Highnesses' presence, Ser Jerry.’’ Lord Harrold ordered the herald, who widened his eyes upon seeing the royal couple.

Rhaenyra gave a gentle smile to the trembling man, and Daemon placed his hand on the hilt of Dark Sister.

‘’Y-yes...’’ The herald hurriedly agreed as the heavy doors to the Throne Room were opened by the Guards. Daemon smiled wickedly and whispered to the man, giving instructions on how he wanted to be announced to the court. ‘’Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne, Dragon Princess.’’ The man briefly looked at the rider of Caraxes. ‘’Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Lord of the Flea Bottom, Prince of the City, Warrior Prince.’’

As she heard how her husband was announced before the court, Rhaenyra couldn’t help but roll her eyes and enjoy his blatant arrogance.

‘’Showtime, my love.’’ Daemon murmured, flashing his usual arrogant smile.

Rhaenyra’s smile was an exact copy of his.

♛

While the King, the Hand of the King, the Queen, all the nobles, most of the servants, and guards were gathered in the Throne Room due to the sudden arrival of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, a solitary figure wandered through the most distant and least visited part of the entire fortress. The man wore fine clothes and had shoulder-length brown hair. His dark eyes remained alert to his own steps. He walked with some difficulty, limping slightly and using a cane for support.

His clubfoot prevented him from walking normally like other people.

Step by step, Larys Strong, the odd youngest son of the Master of Laws, finished climbing the spiral staircase of a practically abandoned tower on the outskirts of the Red Keep. Almost no one dared to set foot in the place, as they claimed to hear screams of pain and cries for help during the night. In other words, it had become the meeting point for Clubfoot and his most advantageous informants.

He sighed in relief as he reached the top floor of the tower. Climbing stairs was an arduous task and took a toll on him, causing pain in his legs and, especially, in his crippled foot. But suddenly, the Strong man furrowed his brow and scanned the space with his sinister, dark eyes. Something was wrong. Clubfoot realized it immediately, after all, his informant, with news from Dragonstone, should have arrived before him.

A small crack caught his attention and made him turn around, almost losing his balance on the cane due to the sudden movement.

‘’He will not come. Your precious informant and spy met the fury of a dragon a few days ago.’’ A sudden feminine tone broke the tense silence. ''And neither will you leave here alive, Lord Larys.’’ She completed, her voice dripping with mockery and coldness.

Emerging from the shadows, a small hooded figure appeared in front of Clubfoot. The woman pushed the coat away from her head, revealing long silver braids. The cold and cruel smile on her red lips strangely matched her delicate features and mysterious purple eyes.

Immediately, Larys understood that the woman was either a legitimate Targaryen or a bastard.

‘’Who are you?’’ He questioned, his voice low and firm. Clubfoot eyed her cautiously and curiously. She resembled Prince Daemon quite a bit, although she seemed too old to be one of his bastard daughters. ‘’You...’’

‘’Well...’’ She cut him off impatiently, after all, she was in a hurry to leave and couldn’t linger too long in her old home. ‘’The older folks, those with courage and a good memory, would call me Princess Dhaerys Targaryen, the middle sister and runaway fiancée of your King, my older brother, Viserys.’’ Disdainfully, the beautiful Valyrian woman rolled her eyes at the mention of him.

Recognition flickered in Clubfoot’s dark eyes. He had heard whispers about the only and rebellious daughter of the late Prince Baelon I and Princess Alyssa Targaryen.

‘’But I'm not here to talk about myself or my past as the runaway fiancée of the idiot who currently sits on the Throne.’’ Dhaerys murmured again, pulling a Valyrian steel dagger from her waist. A sudden wave of fear washed over the man. ‘’I'm here at the request of my lovely niece Rhaenyra.’’ She stared at him coldly. ‘’To settle accounts with you in advance, Lord Larys.’’

Dhaerys moved before Larys could even notice, let alone think of defending himself. It wasn’t her dagger that made contact with him. The Dreamfyre rider shoved him in the chest, and Larys, who was not far from the top of the staircase, completely lost his balance. He let out a terrified scream and tried to grab onto something, but to no avail. His cane fell to the floor as he tumbled down the steps, finally stopping on the first landing for those descending.

The Princess descended the stairs carelessly, twirling the dagger between her fingers, and her cruel smile grew wider when she noticed that Clubfoot was still alive.

‘’Oh, poor defective snake...’’ Dhaerys crouched beside him, brushing a brown lock away from his pain-wrinkled forehead. ‘’Did you really think you’d get away with sending those three foolish assassins after my niece on the Stepstones?’’ She pouted charmingly and tilted her head to the side. ‘’Did you know, Lord Larys, that kin-slaying is a sin no god approves or supports? And no, we're not just talking about my Valyrian gods.’’

It had been Queen Hightower and the Hand of the King who ordered the assassination of the Princess Heiress during the war, but it was Clubfoot who had chosen and sent the three men on the Targaryen ship.

‘’Shhh...’’ Dhaerys pressed her fingers against Larys's bloodstained lips, gently silencing him.

Lying on the landing in a most unnatural position, Larys couldn’t move a single finger. His entire body throbbed with pain like he had never felt before. Both of his legs were broken at the calves, and his feet pointed in opposite directions. The bone of his left forearm had pierced through the skin and coat, leaving the tip exposed. His right shoulder was dislocated, and blood began to drip onto the next step.

‘’But I’m not here just because of the men you sent after Nyra, after all, she took care of them herself and asked me not to worry about it.’’ Her purple eyes darkened further. ‘’She was very upset when she found out you plan to lure your own father and brother to Harrenhal with the sole purpose of killing them cruelly. Rhaenyra cherishes Laena’s happiness greatly, her cousin and lady-in-waiting.’’

Larys could only widen his eyes. He was breathing loudly and with great difficulty.

‘’Black Canary is amazing at what she does, you know? Besides, your most precious little bird spilled everything when caught, Clubfoot. You wanted to murder part of your own family to become Lord of Harrenhal and take Lady Laena Velaryon as your wife in place of Ser Harwin.’’ She continued. ‘’Is your envy and jealousy that deep?’’ She asked, her words burning with rage and disgust.

Clubfoot tried to say something, but choked on his own blood, the fresh crimson liquid staining both his face and neck. Dhaerys savored the sight, a mocking smile spreading across her lips.

‘’Did you really think Laena Velaryon would ever want you?’’ She taunted venomously. ‘’Someone so despicable and hideous? I understand that in your foolish little mind, you thought Lord Corlys would force his own daughter to marry a defective wretch once you became the Lord of a great House, but you were completely wrong.’’ She leaned in to whisper in his ear: ‘’Say hello to the Devil in Hell for me, Clubfoot, please.’’

The cruel smile and infernal angel face of Dhaerys Targaryen were the last images Larys saw. She grasped his head and sharply twisted it to the side. The snap of his neck breaking was loud and satisfying to the Princess.

‘’Bye-bye, Lord Larys.’’ Dhaerys waved at the corpse cheerfully.

The Princess covered her silver braids again and began to descend the stairs calmly. Humming a Valyrian song under her breath, she started planning for when she would arrive in Volantis and finally be able to lock herself away for a few days in the bedroom with her beautiful wife.

The hardest part would be keeping Baela and Lucera away from Aunt Lili for too long.

Dhaerys huffed at the thought.

♛

At the exact moment the doors of the Throne Room were opened, and the herald finished announcing them, the silence became deeper and almost palpable within the cavernous space. The nobles remained standing, eyes sharp and ears keen to catch even the faintest whisper. The servants squeezed into the farthest and darkest corners of the hall, equally anxious and euphoric to catch any glimpse of the Heroes of the Stepstones War.

Sitting on the Iron Throne, King Viserys waited, filled with eager joy, for the return of his beloved daughter, his heir. Though Daemon’s arrival was an unwanted shadow over his euphoria, the King already knew how to rid himself of his despicable brother once and for all—a solution that did not require exile. Otto, his most loyal friend and Hand of the King, had given him an excellent idea and shown once again a way to send the Rogue Prince far from King’s Landing.

The Puppet King and the Hightower worm could never have imagined that by offering the Stepstones, without any ties to the Crown, to Prince Daemon as a “reward,” they were giving him and his wife exactly what they wanted.

On the right side of the dais, one level below the Throne, Otto Hightower maintained an unreadable expression, serious eyes and lips pressed tightly together. The worm had not expected the silent return of the Princess and the Prince—after all, everyone believed they were still stuck in the Stepstones. Moreover, the leech from Oldtown had received no raven from Dragonstone, where Ser Alfred Broome was his main spy and informant.

What had gone wrong with his meticulously thought-out and planned schemes?

It was the question that echoed in the Hand of the King’s mind.

On the left side, sitting uncomfortably on a chair, Queen Diana maintained a serene mask, her sweet gaze gently stroking her enormous belly of nine moons. Internally, however, she seethed with rage for having to be there, waiting for her cursed stepdaughter and the Rogue Prince. She had been forced to attend by the ridiculous and foolish insistence of her husband. Viserys had murmured that the family should be united to receive the Realm’s Heir.

On a lower level than the three of them, primarily for the King's protection, some Kingsguard members were scattered around, including Ser Crispin Cole.

Finally, the Heroes of the Stepstones War appeared.

Daemon Targaryen was the first to come into almost everyone’s view. One hand rested on the hilt of Dark Sister, and his usual arrogant smile lit up his amused expression. Ruby earrings adorned the tips of his ears, and his short, silvery hair made him look younger and more feral. His purple eyes gleamed with malice and disdain as they scanned the small audience before finally resting on King Viserys.

With King Jaehaerys' Crown on his head and the Conqueror’s dagger at his waist, Viserys rose from the Iron Throne.

Whispers fell silent at the sound of heels tapping against the rocky floor. Heads that had been fixed on the King immediately turned toward the Hall’s entrance, and all eyes widened slightly at the sight of the Princess Heir. Like a reincarnated Valyrian Goddess, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s long curls were loose, cascading around her like a silvery waterfall. Her full, red lips curled into a polite smile, and her lilac gaze fixed on her kepus’s outstretched hand.

Like a gentle and attentive husband, Daemon helped his niece-wife down the six steps.

Everyone watched them with a mix of adoration, envy, jealousy, and curiosity. Side by side, Rhaenyra and Daemon began to walk toward the Iron Throne. They kept their chins up, their posture confident, their gaze intense and predatory, their arrogant smiles, and their hands resting on their sword hilts. Their truly divine Valyrian appearance made them seem almost mystical creatures, and the black leather riding outfits only heightened the impression felt by every soul present.

When the couple was just a few steps away from the Throne and the King, the White Cloaks drew their swords and pointed them at them. The Dragon Princess raised an eyebrow, while the Warrior Prince scoffed and threw a hammer at Ser Crispin Cole’s feet. Rhaenyra glanced at her husband and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

‘’Add it to the Throne.’’ Daemon muttered.

King Viserys approached the couple, his gaze shifting between his daughter and his brother. No words were exchanged between Daemon and Rhaenyra as they knelt and lifted their heads to meet his gaze.

‘’Your Grace.’’ They murmured in unison.

‘’Where is Lord Corlys?’’ Viserys finally spoke.

Otto and his daughter exchanged a quick glance before returning their attention to the newly arrived warriors.

‘’He returned to Driftmark, my King.’’ Rhaenyra answered softly. She flashed a small, innocent smile, not breaking eye contact with the man who had ordered her mother to be opened up like a fish. ‘’Just like Uncle Daemon and I, Lord Corlys was longing for home.’’

The King’s tense expression softened slightly. All the anger and indignation Viserys had felt over Rhaenyra’s audacity and disobedience now seemed like a fading memory. Seeing her before him, beautiful and without any injuries, was the most important thing at that moment. Otto and Diana noticed this and knew they couldn’t let the “spoiled brat” get away with it just because her father was a fool who granted all her wishes.

Viserys hesitated for a moment, but then asked again:

‘’And who stayed in the Stepstones?’’

‘’The tides, Your Grace.’’ Daemon answered, his tone firm and serious. ‘’The crabs and countless Triarchic corsairs left dead on the sand serve as a warning to others.’’

The whispers began again, but now they were softer, like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. King Viserys stepped forward, descending the steps of the throne and stopping right in front of his daughter and brother. Rhaenyra and Daemon didn’t move, nor did they falter in their gaze at the King.

‘’Rise, Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon!’’ The King commanded. The War Heroes rose with grace, while the others in the hall began to clap. ‘’The kingdom owes you a great debt, daughter...’’ He continued, casting a veiled, simmering anger at the Rebel Prince. ‘’And you too, brother.’’

Rhaenyra’s eyes welled up with emotion, and she embraced her father tightly. Delighted by the power of his wife’s manipulation and pretense, Daemon watched his niece-wife cry in her father’s arms, trying to stifle a laugh. The mocking look of the handsome prince flickered toward Otto quickly, before settling on Sor Crispin’s hardened face. A wide, wicked grin spread across the knight of Caraxes’s lips.

‘’Ah, how I’ve missed you, my dear daughter.’’ Viserys exclaimed, still holding Rhaenyra.

In the darkest, most isolated corner of the Throne Room, two figures remained silent, unnoticed by anyone. They watched and savored the performance the Dragon Princess and Warrior Prince put on before the Puppet King and the court. The woman, with beautiful golden-blonde hair and light green eyes, smiled predatory as she saw her protégée embraced by the King. Beside her, the man tilted his head to the side and scrutinized Daemon with his strange yellow eyes.

‘’Didn’t I say that my protégée was our perfect choice to save this world from the Dance of the Dragons and prevent the fall of House Targaryen?’’ The woman questioned, in High Valyrian. She turned her head and looked at her husband with a sweet air of arrogance. The man snorted, amused, but didn’t respond. ‘’Even your new protege...’’ Her green eyes fixed on Daemon’s back. ‘’Will play a big and important role in the story we don’t want to repeat, my love.’’

The strange yellow eyes left the newlywed couple and fell upon the beautiful sister-wife. What wouldn’t he do for her? He snorted at the rhetorical question in his mind.

‘’I see that, Syrax.’’ The God Caraxes stared at the two humans. The girl was his sister-wife’s protégée, and the man, his. ‘’I hope everything goes as you plan, my love.’’

The Goddess Syrax turned back to observe her protégés and whispered with extreme confidence:

‘’The seeds of Prince Daemon have already taken root, and the true future of House of the Dragon is already growing in the womb of Princess Rhaenyra.’’

In this world, Helaena Targaryen would have loving parents, a happy family, and her life would never spiral into tragedies and tears. She would have support and guidance to understand her dreams.

In this world, Visenya Targaryen would not be a stillborn baby; she would live a long life full of happiness, and she would unite with the dragon who was always destined to be her soulmate in both universes. Finally, she would meet her twin flame and would never be torn from the arms of her parents.

♛

Notes:

Daemon and Rhaenyra are back for a short time, but they’re going to stir things up, and Viserys will be absolutely furious. Dhaerys, as always, is a marvelous diva, and bye-bye, Larys. He won’t bother anyone anymore.

By the way, do you prefer reading dialogues with the use of quotation marks or dashes?

See you soon!

P.S. para quem é br, essa fanfic está quase terminada no Wattpad e completamente escrita em português, e o meu user lá é outro.

Chapter 27: Chapter 21.

Notes:

Hello, good evening, little dragons!
Is anyone still around these lands after all these months without a new chapter?
I had stopped posting because my story was being plagiarized, but I think everything’s okay now. Well, originally, the story is already complete and posted in Portuguese on Wattpad.
Chapter with an explicit sex scene.
Now, enjoy the read!

♛

Chapter 21.

"He doesn’t deserve to be happy at our expense, treating us like we’re his playthings."

King’s Landing, 113 A.C.

By Daemon Targaryen.

AN IRONIC SMILE played on my lips as I raised my arms at the exact moment I felt the cold tip of the Valyrian dagger touch my throat. The flickering light of the only two candles barely illuminated the darkness of the surrounding tunnel, although I could still see her clearly. The delicate silver eyebrow arched, and her lilac eyes slowly scanned me from head to toe.

“You used to be quieter than this, husband,” she whispered, smiling with disdain, and she sheathed the dagger at her waist. “How is Ser Harwin coping with the tragic death of his brother?” Rhaenyra asked, the irony dripping from every word. She leaned back against the wall and peered through the gaps in the stones. “Lord Lyonel has been excused from the upcoming Small Council meetings.”

My smile grew as I heard the false sympathy in her voice for the death of the Cripple. If I hadn’t known my wife so well for years, I might have believed Rhaenyra truly mourned — but she was the one who had asked Dhaerys to eliminate Larys Strong. My sister had not hesitated to comply with her niece’s request, nor to infiltrate King’s Landing and shove him down the stairs while everyone was distracted by our entrance into the Throne Room.

It had been a brilliant idea to assassinate Larys Strong at a moment of great euphoria in the Fortress and the city.

“Harwin is well, just worried about his father,” I murmured, stopping beside her. Rhaenyra looked at me and nodded. “They are preparing the body to take it to Harrenhal.” I looked through the cracks in the wall and found the Small Council chamber empty. “Does your little bird know the reason for this meeting without you, my love?” I looked again at the figure of my small wife.

We had arrived in King’s Landing two days ago, and I already wanted to leave. For a long time, I had desired and fought to remain in the Fortress my ancestors built and where I was born. Yet now I felt so suffocated and on the verge of causing a massacre down the halls. My niece was even more incredible and strong for having endured two years in this nest of vipers, fighting to survive and not succumb to the fat bloodsuckers.

“My little bird heard whispers from the worm with Queen Hightower that today they will discuss my future marriage,” Rhaenyra whispered, sarcastic. I froze, and rage began to boil inside me. “As the whispers say Dorne was involved in the war, apparently I will marry Jason Lannister.”

I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know my face had twisted into a mask of pure hatred, danger, and the desire to bathe Dark Sister in the blood of those filthy pigs. A small part of my brain registered when I began breathing heavily and how my hand coiled, like a snake, around the hilt of my sword. I was ready to open the secret passage and wait for them inside the Small Council chamber.

Why does Viserys still insist on selling his daughter — whom he says he loves so much, his last living piece of Aemma — to whoever bids the highest? Wasn’t he the one who gave Rhaenyra the freedom to choose her own husband and future consort?

The rage only grew and began clouding my rationality. I had no problem becoming the incarnate Maegor, as the loyal Hand lord and his supporters once called me, and sending that bunch of cunts to hell.

‘’Kepus?’’

Rhaenyra’s sweet and calm voice managed to break through the dark, violent, and bloody cloud that was my mind. Her little hands held my free hand and gave a comforting squeeze. My heart was pounding fiercely, and the blood rushed faster through my veins. Yet, her touch was also a balm for my hatred. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my head and faced a purple sea.

Rhaenyra stared at me with so much love and tenderness that a lump formed in my throat.

“Don’t worry.” She smiled and placed her warm palm on my cheek. I relaxed immediately against her touch. “The Isles are already yours, and I know what I will do with the King.” There was something wicked between the lines of her words. “The goddess Syrax whispered to me something written in one of Queen Visenya’s diaries.”

I furrowed my brow but shook my head. Nyra smiled and slipped into my arms. I held her tightly and kissed her forehead.

She was my entire world.

“All right, my love,” I whispered and kissed her lips.

It didn’t take long for Viserys and the members of the Council to arrive. After each took their rightful seat, the King began to speak:

“My lords, I have called this last-minute meeting to bring good news for everyone and for the Realm.”

Viserys exchanged a brief look with the fat green bloodsucker sitting to his left. Otto maintained a composed expression, yet I could see the glint of victory in his eyes. The worm really thought he could chain the Dragonstone princess into a marriage with that cunt Jason Lannister and put his damn Andal blood on the Throne. Viserys and his deliberate blindness would be the ruin of House Targaryen.

Damn the day King Jaehaerys decided Viserys would be the next king and stripped Rhaenys of her right of primogeniture.

“Well, after much thought and analysis of the current situation we find ourselves in, I have decided that the heir princess, my daughter, will marry Lord Jason Lannister within three moons,” Viserys resumed speaking. “This marriage will bring many benefits to House Targaryen, the Crown, and the Realm.”

My earlier fury multiplied, and it was Rhaenyra’s hand in mine that stopped me from murdering the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Your… Grace?” The Master of Coin’s voice was confused and tense. Lord Beesbury looked horrified facing the King. “Forgive me, my King, but didn’t you give the heir princess the freedom to choose her own future husband and consort?”

Standing in the corner, the Lord Commander remained silent, yet he agreed with the Master of Coin’s question. Ser Harrold already knew of and approved our marriage. In contrast to the two men, Mellos, Jasper Wylde, and Tyland Lannister fiercely agreed with the King’s choice.

“Lord Beesbury, it is true Your Grace allowed Princess Rhaenyra the freedom to choose her future husband and consort, but what did she end up doing instead?” the royal Hand worm questioned, his tone neutral and rhetorical. “The heir to the Iron Throne fled to join her vagabond uncle at war without our King’s permission.”

How I wished to tear Otto Hightower’s head from his shoulders and deliver his body to Caraxes. In the back of my mind, I could hear my dragon agreeing and purring with the anticipation of burning that cunt alive.

“Exactly, my lords.” The despicable king nodded and shook his head. He let out a loud sigh, as if suddenly very tired. “It is true that I gave her that freedom, my lords.” He looked at each face present. “I love my daughter dearly, but Rhaenyra has deeply disappointed me in recent moons by joining her uncle at war and by disobeying me when I ordered her to return with Ser Criston.”

I turned my head to stare at her and saw how my wife wore an ironic smile. She lifted her gaze and winked at me before turning her eyes back to them through the cracks. I frowned, and the damn curiosity was almost getting the better of me.

“But, she will be the future queen after my death, so duty will almost always come first in her life.” Viserys continued. “I have decided to grant her hand to Jason Lannister. He is the lord of the richest house and will also bring us a fleet of ships. I know she will learn to love him and will be happy in Casterly Rock.” He gave a forced smile. “We are facing serious economic problems, and this marriage will save us from the worst.”

Marry her off to that cunt Jason Lannister because the realm was in financial trouble? Gain a fleet of ships? Rhaenyra learning to love that insect as her husband? Being happy in Casterly Rock?

A bitter, incredulous laugh got stuck in my throat. All the economic misery was solely Viserys’s fault and his tendency to spend on useless parties and events. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had to fight to secure any funding for projects to help our people have a shred of dignity.

“My brother will arrive in a week to sign the marriage agreement, Your Grace.” Tyland Lannister commented, very pleased. “Our last letter — Jason told me he’s already ordered the construction of a Dragonpit for the Golden Lady, the Heir Princess.”

Caraxes’s roar sounded in my head with such intensity it was as if he stood beside me. My dragon was ready to leave the Pit and rain fire upon the Red Keep. He knew that, besides them wanting to take Rhaenyra from me, Syrax would also leave if this marriage happened.

“We’ll kill them, Daemon.” Caraxes growled. “We kill them all and leave. I will never allow them to take my mate from me.”

The feeling was mutual between the Bloody Worm and me.

“Come, my love.” My passion whispered and touched me. I stared at her, my mind still a little confused. “I’ve heard enough and want your help to get something now.” Her smile was wicked.

My lips curved into an equally wicked smile.

♛

I brought the goblet to my lips and savored the sharp flavor of the wine from Pentos. I sat in a comfortable armchair, my elbow resting on the table, silently watching my wife. We were in her maiden chambers, though I had to use the secret passages to be by her side. It was infuriating to have to act in secrecy and pretend that the Realm’s Delight wasn’t my wife. We were extremely cautious to avoid any whisper, true or false, about our relationship from spreading through the corridors.

Meanwhile, the fucking King waited for Lord Lannister’s arrival in the capital.

Rage and disdain still burned inside me just remembering how Viserys was about to sell his only living daughter as if Rhaenyra were some kind of merchandise. Fuck! I gripped the goblet tighter and took a deep breath, trying not to let the thirst for blood and vengeance get the better of me. Taking Dark Sister and storming into the King’s chambers to kill him wouldn’t help my wife in any way.

I turned my eyes back to my passion.

The room would have been completely dark if not for the fourteen lit candles and the small fire crackling in the hearth. A bit to the right, wearing a simple white dress, Rhaenyra was kneeling in front of the improvised altar, murmuring a Valyrian prayer. I remained silent and simply watched her carry out a blood ritual written in Queen Visenya’s journal.

We hadn’t stayed to hear what they said at the end of the Council meeting, and instead we made our way through the secret tunnels to the King’s Wing afterward. It was all too easy to discreetly enter Viserys’s room and collect a few strands of his hair from a brush.

My smile grew.

My wife took a piece of dragonglass, sliced her palm, and let the blood drip into the chalice. Then, she placed Viserys’s silvery strands into the cup, mixed them with a few herbs Annora had gathered earlier, and resumed whispering an inaudible prayer. The fourteen flames rose higher and more intense as her voice floated delicately through the silence of the chamber.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, but it was out of admiration.

I’ve always been someone who loved my Valyrian roots and everything that still remained of Old Valyria. I believed in what I could see, touch, and feel—like the dragons. Beyond that, I’d become a skeptic when it came to magic and prophetic dreams, even though Daenys had been a dreamer and saved the Targaryen bloodline because of a vision. But my sweet niece had shown me that there was much more—that the magical side was real and could still be touched by us.

Rhaenyra stood up and walked toward the lit hearth. Curious, I sat up straighter in the armchair and watched her next steps intently. She knelt again and whispered as she poured the blood mixed with herbs and Viserys’s strands into the fire. The orange flames turned black like Tennebris’s scales for a few brief seconds, and then returned to their previous color.

The atmosphere in the room, once tense and slightly oppressive, began to feel lighter.

“Nyra?” I called softly, a bit uncertain ‘’I didn’t want to interrupt her.’’

My passion plunged her hand into the fire, and the flames seemed to caress her skin. I took a deep breath, feeling a deep mixture of admiration and devotion for my wife. Finally, she stood and walked toward me with a soft smile on her delicate face.

“Are you feeling well, my love?” I whispered, still with a touch of concern. Nyra hadn’t read much of Queen Visenya’s journals yet, but I knew blood rituals could drain a person and leave them exhausted. “Do you need me to do anything for you?” I took her small hand and checked the cut palm, finding the skin intact.

Nyra smiled sweetly and climbed onto my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. I wrapped mine around her waist and placed a kiss on her temple.

"You don’t need to, kepus," she whispered, her delicate fingers toying with the hair at the nape of my neck. "Now, the life and health of King Viserys are in my hands, Daemon." Her voice turned dark and serious. "He doesn’t deserve to be happy at our expense, treating us like we’re his playthings." Her beautiful lilac eyes locked onto mine, silver brows furrowed in fury. "You spent two damned years at war, and Viserys wants you to leave again."

Even before I requested the Stepstones, His Grace and his loyal Hand invited me to King’s Landing. Between false sweet words and “congratulations” for my victory in the war, Viserys offered me the Stepstones as a reward—but made it clear that the Crown would have no ties to my lands and that I was never to ask for help. I accepted immediately and demanded a contract be signed with all those terms.

After the contract was signed and the Stepstones were officially mine, the Puppet gently asked when I planned to leave for my new home. Otto was just as curious, though he masked the eagerness in his eyes far better. I had to suppress a laugh and hide my wicked grin behind the rim of my goblet. At first, I made a point of sipping the wine as slowly as possible to irritate them both, then muttered that I hadn’t chosen a departure date yet.

It was obvious how eager those two bastards were to see me gone from Westeros for good. Without me in King’s Landing, Viserys could more easily sell the Heir Princess, and the leech from Oldtown would have more freedom to scheme and place her grandson on the Throne.

"No, he doesn’t deserve it, my love." I smiled wickedly. "King Viserys, First of His Name, deserves to pay for all the harm he’s done to us."

♛

By Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The hall was plunged in complete silence and darkness at this hour of the night. The two lit candles in the candlestick gave just enough light for me to know where to go and step without risking a fall and drawing the attention of the White Cloaks. Silently, I moved and held back the urge to call out for my husband. We should already be in bed, losing ourselves in each other’s arms or wrapped around one another, asleep like our dragons.

We had returned to King’s Landing only a few days ago, and I could only agree when Daemon confessed that he already wanted to leave. The Red Keep had long ceased to be our home and had become a place of sorrow, rage, terrible memories, and a nest of betrayal and danger. So that Daemon and I could have even a shred of privacy, he entered my room through the secret tunnels and slept with me until the early hours of the morning.

And right now, we were supposed to be in my chambers, sleeping. However, Daemon’s note asking me to meet him in the throne room wearing only a white nightgown had lured me through the tunnels and out the secret passage into the hall.

And where was my husband?

I couldn’t help but raise both eyebrows and smile ironically at the sight I found when I rounded the platform. Lazily seated and looking like the very image of comfort on the Iron Throne, Daemon gave me a wide smile and looked at me with false arrogance. Resting one elbow on the arm of the throne, he leaned slightly to the side and stretched his legs forward, never taking his eyes off me. The damp, tousled strands of his hair gave him a mischievous air — a true and charming Rogue Prince.

The sight of him, so majestic, sent a fresh wave of heat and desire through my belly.

“If King Viserys or the loyal Lord Hand sees you sitting on the throne, you could be accused of treason,” I murmured cynically. A teasing smile danced on my lips as I placed the candlestick on one of the steps and climbed the rest. “Should I call you Your Grace now, uncle?” Licking my lips, I stopped between his open legs and tilted my head to the side.

It was a very risky and thrilling game we were about to start.

The candlestick Daemon had brought with him allowed me to see his expression clearly. We were definitely playing the same dangerous, exciting game. Without breaking our connection, I let the nightgown fall to my feet and knelt between his legs. Still silent, I only listened as his breathing grew heavier, uneven, and saw his hands clench into fists. My husband’s eyes were dangerously darker and more wicked, which made me give him a false innocent and sweet smile.

We could be caught by the Kingsguard while defiling the Iron Throne — and it would be an unprecedented scandal.

“Sweet niece…” his husky, low warning sent a shiver up my spine, and my nipples grew harder. “Princess…” Daemon leaned forward and placed his warm hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing over my parted lips. “Are you going to be a good girl for your kepus now?” His black eyes devoured me.

Caught in a mix of pure anticipation and wetness between my thighs, I nodded. A satisfied, wicked smile curved his lips, making that damned dimple appear. I licked my lips and delighted in the sight of him swallowing hard.

“Then suck me.” Daemon ordered, reclining comfortably against the Iron Throne again. “Be a good niece and please your uncle-husband.” His perverse smile made me shudder. “You are forbidden to touch yourself until I command it, my love.”

Biting down on my lower lip, I untied the laces and pulled his dark trousers down to his ankles. He lifted his hips to help me and sat back again, never taking his eyes off my movements. I felt anxious, feverish, my stomach fluttering and fingers slightly trembling. Though, my husband was in no better state. His expression was deliciously dark, his violet eyes gleamed with anticipation, and his breathing was ragged.

Seven hells!

My breath caught the moment I looked up and saw his erection resting on his toned, scarred pale belly. It was long, pink, with faint veins along the shaft, and thick. A trail of silvery hair led from his navel and circled around his cock. I’d discovered Daemon was very hygienic and trimmed them with scissors.

I took a deep breath and exhaled through my slightly parted lips.

“Kepus…” I sighed softly and held him with both hands, beginning gentle up-and-down motions. Immediately, I felt him shudder under my touch, and satisfaction flooded me. “So delicious, kepus…” Without looking away, I brought my lips to the rosy tip and gently sucked it.

‘’Fuck, Nyra!’’ He cursed louder as I ran my tongue around the tip in slow, circular motions, then sucked him vigorously. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as I tightened my grip around his cock and his hand tangled in my hair. ‘’Goddamn, my love!’’ Daemon threw his head back and bit his lower lip.

The sight of my husband, so loose and panting against the Iron Throne, sent a sharp ache deep inside my empty, wet channel.

My whole body seemed engulfed in dragonfire. On top of that, my arousal was so intense it felt like it would drip between my legs, and I desperately needed him inside me, filling me up. My fingers would bring some relief, though very little. Still, I would be a good and obedient niece to my beloved kepus and not touch myself—only suck him. Finally, I pulled away from his cock and smiled, my lips wet with his precome.

Daemon stared at me, barely blinking, his eyes full of lust and fire, and his smile wide.

‘’Am I being a good niece for you, kepus?’’ I whispered, licking my wet lips. His breathing grew heavier, and he seemed ready to attack me. I laughed inwardly with pure satisfaction because the infamous Rogue Prince was all mine. ‘’Uncle Daemon?’’ I tilted my head to the side.

Before my husband could answer, I gave a sly little smile and went back to swallowing his member carefully. I almost choked but managed to relax my throat and began moving slowly, still getting used to his size. Finally, I reached a pace that didn’t make my eyes water.

“Rhaenyra...” Daemon groaned hoarsely and a little loudly. The idea of the Royal Guards storming into the Throne Room and catching the Dragonstone Princess sucking her own uncle was depraved, exciting. "See what a good girl you are, dear niece. Sucking your uncle's cock so beautifully." His hand wrapped around my hair, making my head move faster.

He began to thrust his hips against my mouth, and I dug my nails into his thighs for stability. I could feel the texture, the taste, and how his cock pulsed on my tongue. His breathing quickened when I began to caress his balls. I moved my lips up and focused on sucking the pink tip, moving my hands on the rest. I couldn't help but smile. Daemon stared at me greedily, breathing heavily, a thin layer of sweat covering his face, flushed with pleasure.

“Fuck!” he roared fiercely.

Suddenly, Daemon grabbed my hand and pulled me onto his lap, taking my lips with his in a strong, urgent kiss. I sat on his thighs, one knee on either side of his hips, and wrapped my fingers in his short hair. There was a pillow underneath him so my knees wouldn't hurt. He placed his right hand on the back of my neck and his left hand focused on feeling and squeezing the flesh of my ass. I rose slightly above him and plunged my tongue into his mouth, exploring him.

We moaned together when his penis came into contact with my sensitive folds. Panting, I pulled away a little to look him in the eyes and smiled sideways. He hadn't come and was very hard against us both. His moist lips, eyes shining with lust, and tousled hair made him so beautiful.

“Beautiful, you're so beautiful, ñuha jorraelagon,” he murmured and held my face in his hands. “So mine.”

I shuddered when he pulled me against his chest and his erection came into contact with my folds. I gasped, my heart racing, and writhed in his lap for more contact.

“Oh, Uncle...” I exclaimed softly as I began to rub myself against his penis. I was so wet that it helped me move. “Husband...” I whimpered and squeezed his shoulders.

Daemon panted against me and helped my frantic movements. I frowned and bit my lips as soon as the tip of his penis touched my sensitive spot. It felt good to feel him like that against me, naked and raw, sliding out. However, I needed much more, I needed him to fill me completely and keep his seed inside me in the end.

“Damn... Nyra...” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the throne. “I need... to fuck you... love.”

My body vibrated with anticipation and heat spread across my back.

“Please...” I sobbed in desperation. “Fuck me, kepus.” I pressed my mouth against his neck and sucked on his fragrant skin. “I need your cock inside me... I feel so empty right now... Please, husband...” I rested my forehead on his broad shoulder and dug my nails into his arms.

So as not to moan loudly and attract the attention of the royal guards inside the Throne Room, I bit his shoulder when Daemon lifted me up by my buttocks and his cock entered me. In that position, he penetrated me deeply and filled me completely. So good! I dug my fingers deeper into his arms and moaned with relief. He was finally inside me, after a whole day without feeling him.

“Passion, can you move?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. His calloused hands grabbed my buttocks and his hot breath hit my neck. “Damn...” he exclaimed when I moved a little.

I sat upright on his lap and looked at him, throwing my hair back. My entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. I smiled lasciviously, rested my hands on his shoulders, and began to move slowly. Neither of us dared to break the intensity of our gaze. His eyebrows were furrowed with pleasure and his cheeks flushed with exertion. I began to ride him harder and faster. In this position, Daemon penetrated so deeply inside me and hit a spot that made me shudder with pleasure.

“Husband...” I frowned and bit my lip to keep from screaming with pleasure when he touched the magic spot inside me. “Oh, Daemon...” I moaned, already feeling the familiar heat settle in my back. “Yes, Uncle... harder... More!”

Daemon grabbed my buttocks and began to help me bounce on his lap. I swallowed a cry of pleasure when he hit that special spot for the third time and my inner walls contracted around him. His expression contorted in pure pleasure. I threw my head back and grabbed my breasts, pinching my hard, sensitive nipples. He began to lift his hips to meet mine, and the sound of skin against skin seemed to echo inside the Throne Room.

“Look at me, my passion,” he asked, whispering and caressing my clitoris. Breathing unevenly and heavily, I tilted my head forward and rested my hands on his shoulders again. “Beautiful... You're all mine, Rhaenyra.” He grunted and slapped my ass hard, making it sting.

“Da-aemon...”

Daemon was breathing heavily, biting his lower lip, and his expression showed the extent of his desire, the pleasure of burying himself inside me. I felt his cock throb harder, so I contracted around him as I continued to move up and down. When the heat intensified and shivers took hold of me, I buried my face in his neck and squeezed his arms tightly. I pressed my mouth against his skin and moaned softly, finally coming. My husband came next, squeezing me between his arms and grunting softly.

“Rhaenyra...” He moaned against my hair and his jet flooded me. “Damn, baby...”

We didn't have time to talk or rest a little, because we heard one of the heavy main doors of the Hall being opened. I jumped off my husband's lap, completely naked, his semen dripping between my legs. My only reflex was to grab the nightgown abandoned at the foot of the Throne, the candlestick, and run silently toward the secret passage. The heavy footsteps and the sound of armor made me slip and almost fall.

I could still hear the ghost of a familiar laugh behind me.

I wanted to turn around and throw the candlestick at my husband, but there wasn't enough time. I hid inside a niche behind a Valyrian tapestry. Seconds later, Daemon appeared behind me, panting and laughing. He rushed to extinguish the candles, and we both stood in the dark, listening to the royal guards moving around the throne room. Kepus was in front of me, and I had to resist the urge to punch him because the bastard had managed to put his pants back on.

And me? Totally naked.

“Sir Erryk, can you see anything?” asked a voice I recognized as Sir Crispin's.

My heart raced as the footsteps approached us, and I saw Daemon reach for his waist, searching for the Black Sister. I snorted softly and rolled my eyes, since the sword was in our room.

“No.” The reliable twin's voice sounded a little more distant. “You must have heard too much, Sir Criston.”

Crispin muttered something, and finally, the two left. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the Throne Room door close. Before I could say anything, Daemon began to laugh softly and amusedly. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help smiling good-naturedly.

“This isn't how I expected our night to end, my love.” Amused, Daemon pulled me into his arms and ran his hands down my back. “Did you manage to get your nightgown?”

“Yes.” I whispered and put it on. “We almost got caught, Uncle.” I widened my eyes. “When are we going to desecrate the throne again?”

Daemon let out a mischievous laugh.

“Whenever my wife wants to.”

♛

Notes:

HELP!!! The Iron Throne has been baptized by the Realm’s Delight and her Rogue Prince. I LOVE IT!

Chapter 28: Chapter 22.

Notes:

Hello, good evening, little dragons!
Ready for another chapter?
Then put on your helmet because here comes a rock flying your way!

♛

Chapter 22.

“Avy jorraelan, ñuha jorraelagon.”

King’s Landing, 113 A.C.

The Valyrian Gods had already sent warnings through dreams to some members of the House of the Dragon.

Daenys Targaryen dreamed of the end of Valyria years before the Doom happened. Aegon I Targaryen was also a dreamer like her. The first King, who sat on the Iron Throne, foresaw the end of men and the world when he looked beyond the waters of Blackwater Bay. Although he did not know when the darkness and cold would come from beyond the North, he and his two sister-wives conquered Westeros to begin preparing against the evil.

King Viserys, the First of His Name, liked to consider himself a dreamer like Daenys and Aegon I. He dreamed of a silver-haired man sitting on the Throne and wearing the Conqueror’s Crown. However, the Puppet deliberately chose to forget that dreams sent by the Valyrian Gods were always warnings.

Although I had always believed in the existence of Dragon Dreams, I never thought I would one day experience being one.

It was on our last night in King’s Landing that I dreamed for the first time. I saw and lived an entire life of another woman in a few minutes. I plunged into a story that did not belong to me, although the protagonist was also named Rhaenyra Targaryen and she was destined to be the first ruling Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. For a short time, I was her; I was in her skin and remained trapped in the tragedies and horrors of that other world.

In her world, where dragons danced, the Targaryens were extinct and the House of the Dragon forgotten in the annals of history.

Through the eyes of the Black Queen, the Rhaenyra Targaryen from the other world, I saw how the whole story of her life began and ended.

I felt in my soul, in my own flesh, how she suffered, mourned, and wept for the loss of each child, her beloved brown-eyed boys. Her father had been very flawed with her, but she loved him and deeply mourned his loss. Half of her heart died along with the miscarriage and was burned on the same pyre that held the small body of her only daughter.

The six years of happiness at Dragonstone were so few and meager compared to how much she had suffered throughout her life.

The bond broken with the death of her Golden Lady, her soulmate, tore her apart as well. Betrayals, distrust, and insanity made her doubt the fidelity of her husband, her twin flame. Rhaenyra no longer remembered the Delight of the Realm, as she was once called.

She wept so much when she lost her youngest boy and only one son was left in her arms.

In the end, she became a living, empty shell when she learned of her beloved’s sacrifice at the Eye of God.

Finally, the Black Queen herself had her life cut short. She was burned and devoured by the dragon of her own half-brother, the Usurper, during an ambush at Dragonstone, the same place where her family and she had been happy for six miserable years.

And it wasn’t fair.

"Why don’t... I see anyone’s face?" I stammered, sobbing loudly and breathing irregularly.

There was a crushing and overwhelming weight settled on my chest, making me feel useless and fragile. I could not kill the enemies with the help of Fireheart nor burn them with Syrax and Tennebris. There was no alternative to save the other Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen — I could only watch her horrendous and cruel death. Tears streamed harder as my heart raced and twisted in agony. It was as if I would never escape this spiral of lived nightmares.

"Why can’t I..." A new violent wave of crying mixed with sobs hit me. Feeling so tiny and helpless, I wrapped my arms around myself. "...know anyone’s name? Only hers and her husband’s?"

Kneeling on the grass, I couldn’t look away from her being burned alive.

"Why am I here?!" I screamed, in a burst of pain and despair. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" And then I gave in to tears once again.

Suddenly, a warm and soft hand rested on my shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze afterward. The unexpected touch should have put me on alert and made me pull away — after all, it could be anyone behind my back. Also, I wanted to look up and see who it was, but the sudden change of scenery made me widen my eyes, and horror took me.

No!

“No!” I screamed. The voice that sounded in my ears didn’t seem to belong to me. “No! No! No!” I wanted to get up, run to hug the boy, and stop him from seeing the same as I did, yet no muscle responded to my desperation. “No!”

Finally, I noticed a detail that tore me apart even more inside. Please, stop! While that Rhaenyra was still being burned by the Usurper’s Dragon, a small silver-haired boy, her only living son, was held by a man and watched his own mother being killed.

Although there was no sound, I knew he was calling for his muña.

It was only six damn miserable years; it wasn’t fair!

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands, breaking into another violent wave of crying. Tears streamed down, mixing with loud sobs. A grief so deep and agonizing seemed to be eating me alive from the inside out.

When despair became unbearable, I just started screaming and punching the ground. Meanwhile, images of the tragic and unhappy life of the Black Queen kept flashing in my mind, one after another. Endlessly. It was maddening, and I almost banged my head against a rock to make it all stop.

At one point, I lay down in the fetal position, and the tears turned into silent laments.

“I’m sorry for making you see all this, my child.” The voice, feminine and maternal, whispered melancholically. I didn’t respond immediately, nor did I lift my head to look at her. “But it was necessary for you to know what happened to the Black Queen from the other world, Rhaenyra.”

Although my throat burned and my head ached like hell, I managed to gather some strength and finally sat up. The smell of sea spray mixed with smoke and sulfur brought a trace of safety to me. I was no longer in Aegon’s Garden but on top of a mountain in Dragonstone. It was just the two of us there. Finally, I hugged my legs and closed my eyes, enjoying the cold sea breeze.

“You and the Warrior Prince have already changed many things in your world, my child.” She murmured again, never losing the sweet and maternal tone. “However, there is still a long road for you to travel. My brothers and I are doing what is possible, with what remains of our power, to help you as much as we can and prevent the dragons from dancing again.”

I opened my eyes and didn’t answer her immediately. I just stared at the sea before us. The waves broke on the shore of dark sand while silence stretched between the two of us. Further on the horizon, some seagulls flew and others dove toward the water after a fish.

“Why did everything go wrong for the Black Queen?” I whispered, hoarse and with a broken voice. “What did she do to deserve so much suffering and loss? To have such a miserable end?”

She sighed deeply and remained silent for the next few minutes. I didn’t take my eyes off the sea, although I still wanted to lift my head and look at her face.

"In the other world, the Targaryens fought among themselves and killed each other, the dragons danced, and the House of the Dragon disappeared completely..." she murmured, her voice low and overflowing with sadness. "Much of the blame for all this tragedy is ours. We, the Gods, erred by sending a dream to King Viserys. But he also has a large share of the responsibility. He deliberately chose to forget that we sent warnings and thought himself special when he dreamed."

I couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, with no trace of humor. Fool. No matter which world it was — mine or the Black Queen’s — King Viserys would always be an ambitious fool who wished to be a dreamer like our ancestors.

"He interpreted the vision of the silver-haired man, sitting on the Throne wearing the Conqueror’s crown, as a good omen. Viserys believed that the promised Dārilaros would come from him." She continued with a dry, ironic laugh. "He should never have had a son; it was his only daughter who was destined to be the Queen. His second marriage, to the Hightower girl, was the starting point for the tragic end you saw."

The longing for my own muña and the bitterness of her murder mixed with flashes of the death that Aemma Arryn, the Black Queen’s mother, endured. Again, no matter the world — mine or the other Rhaenyra’s — Viserys ordered his wife to be cut open like an animal, and the Heir for a Day breathed for only a few hours.

"Just like your Warrior Prince and you, Rhaenyra and Daemon were twin flames." Her soft murmur brought me back to reality. My heart tightened thinking of my husband. "They should have been married from the start. The brown-eyed boys and the twin girls never truly belonged to the two of them, only the last three children and the others who were never born."

Some tears flowed down my cheeks again.

"The Black Queen died without knowing that her youngest son was still alive." I gave a dry, bitter laugh.

Anger and sadness mixed inside me. My heart ached so deeply for the boy who saw his mother’s horrible death, and for the other lost one who would never see her again.

"Why didn’t you, the Gods, help change her fate as you are helping me?" I asked.

There was a heavy, sad sigh from her.

"We were weak, Rhaenyra." She confessed. "And there was no way to change the future of that world. The threads of fate were already too tangled, and there wasn’t a single loose end we could use to help her. We intervened and erred by sending the dream to Viserys. Unfortunately, for the Black Queen and her family, everyone’s fate was already carved in stone, and all we could do was watch."

It was so wrong, so unfair to the Black Queen and her family. They did not deserve the fate they had.

"Aegon’s prophecy came true as well." I moistened my dry lips. "Who won?"

There was a slightly longer pause between us.

"Humanity." She sighed and gave a humorless laugh. "The last Targaryen was betrayed and killed by the one she loved most. Rhaenyra..." Her hand rested on my shoulder again. "The vision of Aegon will happen, though not now, and I can’t tell you when. In your world, we used the rest of our power and chose you to be the one who will prevent the Dance of the Dragons."

With my legs a little shaky, I struggled to stand and finally turned to face her. I widened my eyes and gasped softly as I beheld her divine beauty. She was a bit taller than me, with long silver hair, translucent white skin, purple eyes, and a charming pair of golden horns on her forehead. The Goddess smiled more as I could only watch her.

"The threads of fate are more aligned now, and I can see the future clearly." The Goddess Syrax whispered, holding my trembling hands in hers. "You, Dragon Princess, and the Warrior Prince will keep House Dragon standing and prevent the same story from repeating." She smiled sweetly. "From the blood of you two will be born the Dārilaros, who will defeat the darkness and cold coming from beyond the North in this world."

My heart raced and the conversation I had with Daemon a few days ago returned to my mind. I felt more disturbed and wished my husband was here so I could bury myself in the safety of his arms.

"Please, calm down, my brave girl." The Goddess Syrax released my hand and placed her warm palm against my cold cheek.

Her touch was gentle and maternal.

"The promised child will be born in a much more distant future. But, for now, you two must leave King’s Landing. The serpents will try to eliminate the lives growing in your womb." Her other hand rested on my smooth belly. "You already carry the true dragons, sweet child."

My eyes welled up, and a sob escaped. My own hands rested on my flat belly, and an unexpected love began to rise in my chest. It was different from what I felt for Daemon, although it was equally beautiful and intense. This time, I was crying tears of happiness.

"I... I..." I bit my lower lip and shook my head, not knowing what to say. "What if..." I stared at her, feeling a sudden pang of fear. "My muña..."

Goddess Syrax pulled me into a hug, kissed my hair, and whispered afterward:

"There is nothing to fear in this pregnancy or the ones to come, Rhaenyra." Her palm landed on my back, and she began to move it up and down, gently. "I will always protect you, no matter when, why, or against whom." She stepped back and held me by the shoulders. "One day, you will understand everything that happened to Queen Aemma Arryn."

Sniffling softly, I furrowed my brow and asked:

"What do you mean, Goddess Syrax?"

She smiled sweetly.

"Nothing that matters right now, my girl." She brushed her fingers beneath my eyes and kissed my forehead. "Now, you and your husband must leave King’s Landing as soon as possible and will return when I tell you, okay?" She asked seriously, and I nodded affirmatively. "You are my greatest pride, Dragon Princess."

I felt my cheeks begin to flush and was about to reply when a familiar male voice called out to me:

"Rhaenyra?"

A few steps away stood a tall man with long silver hair, purple eyes, pale skin, and red horns. God Caraxes. Next to him, my husband was standing, looking at me anxiously. I stepped forward toward him but stopped and hugged Goddess Syrax one last time.

"Thank you." I smiled, my eyes watering again.

She nodded and whispered back:

"I think you’ll like to know this." Goddess Syrax smiled, and suddenly, her image began to blur.

I blinked, but the intense glare forced me to close my eyes and cover my face with my hands.

“Since the Black Queen and her King Consort united their souls in a Valyrian marriage, she and Daemon will reunite in the future, in their world, and have a happy life with their children.” Her voice faded like she did.

In this life and the next.

Before I even opened my eyes again, I realized I was back in our chambers when I felt the softness of silk sheets at my fingertips and the plushness of the feather mattress beneath me. I let the tears fall silently and sniffled softly. There was a slight movement beside me, and I was pulled into a tight embrace. I buried myself into his chest and nestled my head in his fragrant neck, where I cried quietly.

Daemon said nothing, only held me comfortingly and stroked my back with his free hand.

‘’Kepus...’’ I clung tighter to him.

"I'm right here, my love." He placed a wet kiss on my forehead.

Daemon was silently crying too.

We stayed like that for a while, trapped in our bubble.

"I'm pregnant." I whispered, lifting my head from his neck, and looked into his beautiful, teary purple eyes. My heart galloped with so much emotion and happiness. I sat on his belly and whispered almost inaudibly: "We will be parents, Daemon." Tears streamed down my cheeks once more.

Strangely, the scenes from the Black Queen’s life became a confused, dark blur in some corner of my mind. I knew I would never forget everything I saw and felt from the other world, but I couldn’t let any of it take root in me and stop my life out of fear. Goddess Syrax had shown me dreams and given warnings, which I would never ignore or take lightly.

But, for now, our children, the fruits of the love Daemon and I shared for each other, would come first.

There was time, as Goddess Syrax told me.

“Rhaenyra?” Daemon whispered, emotional, and sat down with me still in his lap. He pressed his forehead to mine and placed a large hand on my still-flat belly. “Thank you, zaldrītsos.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and murmured against his lips:

“Avy jorraelan, ñuha jorraelagon.”

I kissed him passionately.

♛

I didn’t need to look back or turn my head sideways to know that my husband and I were the targets of everyone’s eyes who crossed paths with us in the Red Keep’s halls.

At first, anyone — whether a Royal Guard, servant, Lord, or Lady — widened their eyes and stared at us blatantly, although soon after they made a somewhat awkward bow. With each step we took toward the Throne Room, the whispers and curious looks only increased.

It wouldn’t take long for word to reach many ears that the Delight of the Realm and the Prince Rebel were walking hand in hand, accompanied by three Gold Cloaks.

In the early hours of the morning, Annora informed me that King Viserys demanded my presence in the Throne Room for an audience with him.

Elinda and she quickly finished packing my belongings, which would be sent by ship to Dragonstone. My likely disinheritance and Daemon’s exile were two events we already anticipated; however, we wouldn’t stay in King’s Landing anyway after announcing our marriage to the King and his court of vipers.

Goddess Syrax was very clear when she warned me that my babies and I would be at risk.

“You don’t need to announce us to the King.” I murmured to the herald, who widened his eyes when he spotted us. “Thank you, Ser Harwin, Ser Luthor.” I smiled lightly at the two trusted men of my husband, who opened the Throne Room doors.

Unlike the day we arrived as War Heroes and were greeted with much pomp by the entire Court, now the Great Hall was practically empty. Except for the King, the Hand of the King, members of the Small Council, and some Royal Guards. Sitting upon the Throne and wearing King Jaehaerys’s crown, Viserys awaited me, and his expression grew deeply scowling as soon as he noticed Daemon’s presence by my side.

We did not lose confidence in our steps nor hesitate to keep walking.

Viserys wanted to put on a spectacle in front of the worms of the Small Council and try to bind me in a marriage with Jason Lannister’s boceta. The King had given me the right to choose my husband and future Consort, and that was exactly what I did when I married Daemon a few days ago. Now, I would announce in front of everyone who my husband and future father of my little ones was.

“What does this mean, Rhaenyra?!” Viserys exploded suddenly. He stood up, his face turning a deep red and his eyes furious, fixed on our joined hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a smug smile beginning to form on my uncle-husband’s lips. “Why is he…” A thick finger adorned with rings pointed at Daemon. “Here and holding your hand?!”

I diverted the King’s attention and looked at my husband, with slight concern.

Daemon had confessed that he hadn’t wished to be recognized or receive any sign of affection from his older brother for a long time. However, I witnessed how hurt he was when I told him about Aegon’s Dream. In the end, I smiled discreetly realizing he was indeed not affected by Viserys’s sudden scornful outburst.

“And why shouldn’t Daemon be here, Father?” I tilted my head slightly to the side and smiled ironically. Though my attention was on the King, I noticed Otto looked like he had just sucked a sour lemon. “Earlier today I received a summons to appear in the Great Hall after lunch, so I’m here to hear you out, and my husband decided to accompany me.”

Viserys gasped loudly in horror.

“What… what… what… did you say, Rhaenyra?” King Viserys stammered, looking extremely horrified. “He… You…” He glanced briefly at Daemon. “Husband?”

I gave a false sweet smile while staring at my mother’s killer.

“Yes, Your Grace.” I shook my head and looked at my husband lovingly. “Kepus and I united in a Valyrian marriage a few days ago.”

I had never heard a silence so deafening before.

May Balerion’s hell reign in the Great Hall!

♛

Notes:

In the next chapter, the drama’s about to heat up, and Viserys will realize that Rhaenyra is the very fire of Old Valyria.
LOVE IT.
See you soon, little dragons!

Chapter 29: Chapter 23.

Notes:

Hello, good evening, little dragons!
Oooh, finally the chapter with the showdown between Daemon, Rhaenyra, and the damn Puppet King has arrived.
Enjoy the read!

♛

Chapter 23.

"I would die for her, kill for her, and it would be a pleasure.”

King’s Landing, 113 A.C.

The King fell back down onto the Iron Throne, eyes wide and face deathly pale. He stared at us without blinking, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing or what he had just heard from me. At my side, Daemon let out a muffled, sarcastic laugh. I had to hold back a sharp, satisfied smile seeing how utterly defeated Viserys looked.

“What... What have you done, Rhaenyra?” Viserys stammered, pathetically. His incredulous gaze flickered between me, my husband, and the three Gold Cloaks positioned protectively behind us. “You... You…” He fell silent, shaking his head repeatedly. “You’ve gone mad.”

I gave a short smile and wrapped my hands around Daemon’s arm. My husband looked at me and smiled lovingly.

“I did exactly what you allowed me to: I married the only man who could be my husband and future Consort to strengthen my claim to the Throne.” I looked back at Viserys’s defeated figure. A feeling of satisfaction warmed me from within in that moment. “Besides, Daemon would never use me as a broodmare to produce his heirs or tear me open like they did to my mother.” My tone grew cold and cutting.

Viserys looked as if he’d taken a punch to the stomach, his eyes glazing over. Good, very good. Let my words hurt him a little and tear his heart to miserable shreds. But nothing he felt would compare to the pain and terror my mother endured being cut open alive while her own husband stood in the birthing chamber watching her murder.

“We married by the ancient traditions of our house, Viserys.” Daemon spoke for the first time, his voice low and devoid of any warmth. His free hand rested on the hilt of Dark Sister, eyes fierce fixed on his older brother’s face. “Rhaenyra and I are bound by Valyrian marriage.” He turned his head and smiled at me again.

Annora and Elinda had whispered to me, between happy giggles and flushed cheeks, how Daemon always looked at me with so much love and adoration.

While Viserys seemed to sink further into defeat, the Hand Lord and council members began arguing loudly. Except for Lord Beesbury, who watched us with a gentle gaze and a small shadow of a smile on his face. Like Lyonel Strong and Ser Harrold, I knew he approved of my marriage to the kepus.

“This is blasphemy!” Great Maester Mellos shouted, glaring at the King. His fat, wrinkled face was red with anger. “Your Grace, you cannot allow this heresy to be considered true! We don’t even know if the Princess Heir remained a maiden, seeing as she was at war with her uncle for two months!”

In an instant, Daemon was at my side and, the next, the tip of Dark Sister pressed against the Gray Rat’s throat. The White Cloaks drew their swords on him and only stopped when the Lord Commander ordered. The tension in the cavernous room thickened and everyone grew rigid, as if expecting Mellos’s head to fall at their feet.

“If you don’t want to meet your damn false gods in person today, I suggest you shut the fuck up and be very careful what you say about my wife, Gray Rat.” Daemon hissed, dangerously low and deadly.

The tip of Dark Sister still pressed on Mellos’s throat and I knew how much the kepus wanted to kill him.

“Questioning the honor and maidenhood of the Princess Heir is an act of treason, punishable by death.” He continued.

Great Maester Mellos’s face went deathly pale and he looked like he might faint at any moment. The other Small Council members grew uncomfortable and widened their eyes, though no one spoke aloud. The White Cloaks took a step forward and Crispin Cole looked too eager for a confrontation with my husband.

“Your Grace!” Otto shouted. “You cannot allow Daemon to threaten Great Maester Mellos like that!”

Viserys, looking 20 years older, whispered:

“Guards…”

I furrowed my brow slightly, raw, wild anger rising within me.

“No!” I roared and pointed Fire Heart at the King, not taking my eyes off his pale, haunted face. “I will not allow anyone to lay a single hand on my husband, Your Grace.”

“You’re threatening our King, Princess Rhaenyra?!” the worm exclaimed.

Though I didn’t take my gaze off the Puppet King to look at the worm Hightower, I answered him in a cold, cutting tone:

“Of course I’m not threatening my father, your King, Lord Hand.”

Viserys stared at me as if he had never seen me before, a mix of horror and disbelief on his face.

“Just reminding Your Grace who the only two legitimate Targaryens are—warriors and dragon knights—who still wield the last two ancestral Valyrian steel swords of the House of the Dragons present in this room.” A slow, ironic smile began to spread across my lips.

Viserys ran his hand over his pale face and muttered some incomprehensible words.

The King was trapped in a mortally shocked state and seemed unable to comprehend what his eyes saw. A mixture of emotions passed over his face, making him look more tired and old than his 36 days of reign. But no, I didn’t care. On the contrary, now King Viserys’s life and health were intertwined and held in my hands, after I performed yet another blood ritual.

“That sounds like a threat against King Viserys, Princess Rhaenyra.” The Oldtown worm insisted, in an irritated tone. “You should be careful what you say, even if you are the Heir to the Throne.”

I gave a sly smile dripping with scorn and contempt—one Dhaerys would say was exactly like the arrogant smiles Daemon gave. It was a compliment to me, after all. I kept staring intensely at the man wearing green robes and the Hand of the King’s pin on his chest. Otto returned the look, though he was starting to look a little uncomfortable. Good. Meanwhile, the other Small Council members, the White Cloaks, and the King seemed lost.

“I understand your concern, Ser Otto, but why would I be threatening the King, my father? Do I have any reason to commit such a crime against Your Grace?” I blinked almost innocently and turned toward the King.

Daemon pulled Mellos away and stopped beside me. He watched me and then took my hand.

“There is no threat in my words, father, I only demand that my husband, Prince Daemon, be treated with the respect he deserves.”

Viserys was about to reply, but was interrupted when the doors of the Great Hall suddenly opened and cautious footsteps echoed toward us.

“Your Grace.” Annora’s voice was low and careful as she bowed. I turned to my most loyal servant and smiled sweetly, taking the folded fabric from her arms. “My princess.”

“Thank you very much, Annora!” I murmured, affectionately.

She bowed once more and almost ran out of the Throne Room.

“My honor and maidenhood were questioned by the Great Maester because I was at war alongside my uncle…” I turned to them and smiled coldly. “Well, here is the proof that my virginity was only claimed by Daemon once he was already my husband. Besides, we have Maester Gerardys to affirm what we say about our consummation, should there be any doubt.”

As soon as I finished speaking, I threw the sheet over Great Maester Mellos’s face. The old gray rat jumped in surprise and widened his eyes when he realized it was a dirty bed linen, stained with Daemon’s dried seeds and a small mark from my virginity. Viserys looked even more perplexed and stared at the proof with deep, explicit disgust.

“What have you done, foolish girl?” The King’s voice sounded somewhat restrained and suddenly irritated.

His face flushed red again, his expression hardening. Maybe there was still some trace of dragon’s blood flowing through his veins, and he hadn’t become a completely blind, foolish sheep.

“Marrying him, of all people?” He pointed at Daemon with disdain. “You’ve gone mad, Rhaenyra!” He shouted, furious.

I raised an eyebrow and stared at him as if I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Why would I be mad, father?” I repeated, feigning confusion. “Daemon is a legitimate Targaryen, a Prince of Blood, the best living warrior, rides a fierce, war-hardened dragon, bearer of Dark Sister, and my uncle. Why would I be foolish to choose him as my husband? Our children will be true Targaryens and genuine dragon knights.”

My gaze flicked toward Otto, and I had to hold back a malicious smile.

Neither the egg placed in Baelon’s cradle nor the one in Agon’s hatched—they turned to stone. The Queen demanded new dragon eggs be brought for her children, but the King refused, saying the boys could claim a dragon when they were older.

“You’re foolish, Rhaenyra.” Viserys’s dry, bitter laugh rang out loud. “A blind fool, in love with a vile, drunken whore of a man like your uncle.” He looked at him with disgust. “Daemon was never a good husband to Lady Rhea, so why would he be one for you? He only wants the Iron Throne, to rule through you once he ascends as Queen!” He shouted, standing up and taking a few steps forward. “You’ve made a grave mistake, and it will cost us dearly!”

It was my turn to laugh—and it was not a pleasant sound.

“When you say ‘it will cost us dearly,’ are you referring to the fact that you nearly sold me to the Prince of Dorne? But changed your mind when you heard whispers the Dornish were allied with the Triarchy pirates?” I tilted my head to the side, watching his face turn into a mask of shock. “And now you’re about to give my hand to Jason Lannister’s cunt in exchange for gold mines and fleets of ships?”

Viserys tried to say something, but I raised my hand to silence him.

“Your Grace, you gave me the right to choose a husband and future Consort—and Daemon is my choice.” I looked at him briefly, and the kepus smiled at me. His eyes shone with a mix of love, devotion, and pride. “Right now, ravens are leaving Dragonstone headed to all the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, and all Lords and Ladies will know of our marriage.”

I braced myself for a big fight, ready to draw my sword and fight for both of us. The presence of Ser Luthor, Ser Harwin, and Ser Balon was a security measure Daemon insisted we have when we entered the Great Hall. On the other hand, I didn’t want to wield Fire Heart and dive into violent chaos—I just wanted to turn my back on them all and leave, with Daemon and our dragons.

“Your Grace!” Otto seemed to come out of a stupor and shouted, nervously staring at the King. Viserys sat back on the Throne and returned the look without really seeing him. “My King, you cannot allow this blasphemy to continue! The Princess married without your consent! And how can this marriage be considered valid if it wasn’t before a Septon? A union with Prince Daemon won’t bring any land, wealth, dowry, castle, or ships to the Crown as Lord Jason will.”

I let out a scornful laugh and whispered venomously:

“Then please, Ser Otto, refresh my memory and tell me what lands, wealth, dowry, castle, and ships my father’s second marriage to Lady Diana Hightower brought to the Crown?” I raised an eyebrow and clicked my tongue. Daemon chuckled quietly. “Nothing, right? She may be Queen Consort now, after slipping into the King’s bed like a whore, but she’s still the daughter of a second son, who has nothing in her name.”

The leech flushed red and clenched his fists. Viserys did nothing, just allowed a simple servant of the Crown to keep arguing and disrespecting his named Heir. If it were during King Jaehaerys’s reign, Otto would have lost his tongue and been dragged to the Black Cells by now. The Old King would never let anyone speak like that to one of his Heirs, whether Aemon or Baelon.

“Diana is your Queen, Princess Rhaenyra.” He hissed.

“Diana Hightower will never be my queen, Ser Otto. She’s just a whore wearing a crown given by my father before my mother’s and brother’s ashes even cooled.” I replied, resting my hand on Fire Heart’s hilt. “The last true Queen Consort that King’s Landing and all of Westeros had was Aemma Arryn. Since 109 AC, no other worthy woman has taken her place.”

More red with rage than before, Otto Hightower was about to challenge the Heir to the Throne again, but he fell silent and looked frightened like almost everyone else in the Great Hall when a roar seemed to shake the Red Keep. I smiled. After spending the last few days at Dragonstone, my grumpy boy was with me once again, much to my delight. I’d already felt his imposing, fierce presence for a while as he flew high above the clouds, discreet and out of human sight.

“My girl.” He almost purred in my mind.

“I believe everyone has already heard the whispers that I rode a black dragon on the Steps, alongside my Golden Lady.” I said casually. At that moment, a second fierce roar sounded absurdly loud, and Tennebris landed on the castle’s roof, making them all widen their eyes. “Many know him as Cannibal, but his name is Tennebris, and he is my second dragon.”

All the redness of anger drained from Otto’s face and was replaced by a deep paleness. The worm exchanged worried glances with Mellos. Lord Jasper and Lord Tyland looked nauseated, about to vomit. They, including the Royal Guards, shuddered with fear the moment Tennebris landed in the outer courtyard and roared. The sound entered through the Hall’s doors and echoed throughout the cavernous chamber. Viserys looked surprised and gave me a look mixed with pride and disbelief.

“Caraxes is grumbling that Tennebris is showing off.” Daemon whispered, amused. However, kepus put on a serious, cold mask and turned his gaze back to Viserys. “Like Rhaenyra and I, you know very well that a Valyrian marriage cannot be undone by anyone, not even a king. Besides, you may keep believing whatever you want or in the whispers of that fat green leech…” He gestured toward Otto. “But I never wanted the Throne.”

“Your Grace…”

Once again, Otto was silenced by a growl from Tennebris.

“As long as our father was alive, I only wanted to be recognized as his son and to have his love as you did, but uncle Aemon was my true kepa. When he passed, I wished that you, Viserys, would see me as your brother, as Rhaenys and Dhaerys did.” He gave a wide smile, though devoid of warm feelings. “I spent almost my whole life exiled, cursed like a deadly plague and seen as the worst kind of man by you. Why?”

I was a little surprised to see Viserys’s eyes well up.

“My mother only died… because you were born.” He whispered.

I heard Daemon take a deep breath, so I decided to intervene.

“Ironic, isn’t it? You have so much hatred and contempt for my husband because my grandmother died giving birth to him, an unfortunate event that kills so many mothers and no baby is to blame.” I shook my head, feeling a pang of bitterness in my heart. “After 28 years, you still blame my uncle but ordered my mother to be cut open for a child. Where is your true morality, after all, kepa?”

Viserys took a deep breath as a tear ran down his cheek. Daemon wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple, calming me a little.

“I married Rhaenyra for love, to strengthen her claim as future Queen and to eliminate anyone who dares cross her path.” Daemon murmured and looked at me sweetly. Then his attention shifted to the King. “I would die for her, kill for her, and it would be a pleasure.” His grip around me tightened, and my heart raced at his words. “You and I weren’t made to sit on the Iron Throne; we weren’t born to be king, brother.”

I wrapped my arms around Daemon’s waist, a silent reminder that I was by his side and would never let go.

“If you wear that crown today, it’s because grandfather was very foolish and left Rhaenys aside for being a woman.” My husband looked at me briefly. I smiled at him and stroked his tense back. “Of Baelon and Alyssa’s only three children who could sit on the Throne, Dhaerys was the one, but like me, she never wanted such a burden or had eyes for something so cursed.” He looked Viserys in the eyes.

Daemon spent the last years of his life being sent away and exiled from the Red Keep by King Viserys for no reason. The resentment, anger, and contempt my father always harbored toward his younger brother never had any justification. My husband only wanted to remain in the fortress built by our ancestors, be recognized as a valuable part of what was left of House Dragon, and fight anyone who rose against our family.

“You’ve always been jealous of me because I am the firstborn of our parents, the King of the Seven Kingdoms. You’ve always wanted the Throne for yourself, Daemon,” Viserys snapped, his voice loud and venomous. His irritated gaze fell on me, his brows furrowed with pure disgust. “And my foolish daughter believed some sweet words and agreed to marry a vile, violent, greedy, drunken whore like you.”

The past two years, during which Daemon remained imprisoned in a war on a barren island, had been hell for me.

I had to learn to walk among the snakes in sheep’s clothing that crawled inside the Red Keep. The castle where I grew up and was raised was no longer my home or my symbol of safety and peace. On the contrary, the pale red stone walls had become a place where I was seen as a plague, an unnatural being for wearing pants, wielding a sword, and knowing how to fight like a man.

My existence as a woman and Heir to the Iron Throne was a true blasphemy in the eyes of many.

“Jealous of you, Viserys? The firstborn son who was never good at learning how to fight with a sword, bow and arrow, or the damn dagger? The damn Targaryen King without a dragon?” Daemon tilted his head slightly to the side, studying him with an ironic look. A cold, cruel smile touched his lips. “Of the three of us, brother, Dhaerys was always the smartest and I was the best warrior. Besides, we’re still dragon knights. So, how could I be jealous of you?”

Viserys’s face turned crimson, and his eyes stared at my husband with so much hatred.

“I will imprison you in the Black Cells and strip you of all your titles, Daemon!” he shouted, droplets of spittle flying from his mouth. His angry eyes fixed on me, and he continued in the same furious tone: “And you, Rhaenyra, will be locked in your chambers until Lord Jason arrives and I sign the contract of your marriage to him! I don’t care about a Valyrian marriage! You will marry the man I order and bring wealth to the Crown!”

I burst out laughing loudly.

“Do you really think you can imprison my husband and force me to marry Lord Jason Lannister’s cunt, Your Grace?” I rested my hand on the hilt of Fire Heart and raised an eyebrow disdainfully. Ready to draw their swords, the White Cloaks stepped forward, and I heard the three Gold Cloaks moving for a fight as well. “The answer is no.”

The King’s nostrils flared, and his hands gripped the arms of the Throne. Viserys was furious with me and my continued disobedience. My lips curved into an ironic smile.

“Don’t challenge me, Rhaenyra!” he roared. “I may be your father, but I am still the King and my word is law, foolish girl!” Viserys stood and took two steps forward, pointing a finger at me. “I can disown you, strip you of all your royal titles, and exile you to the most isolated place in all of Westeros!” His gaze flicked to Daemon, and an ironic smile appeared on his flushed face. “Then, I want to see if my little brother will still be married to a girl with nothing in her name.”

Otto’s eyes gleamed with joy and anticipation. I could almost see him kneeling at Viserys’s feet, whispering that he should punish me exactly like that, that Baelon would be a more suitable and obedient Heir to the Iron Throne.

“Do it, Your Grace.” Daemon hugged me tighter, not taking his eyes off the King. “I married Rhaenyra for love, not because I wanted a cursed Throne. Besides, I have more than enough gold to give my wife and our future children a life of luxury.” With a soft smile, he looked at me. My heart raced again. “Shall we go, my love?”

Amid the chaos surrounding us, I smiled genuinely and nodded. Kepus leaned forward and claimed my lips in a calm kiss. I heard a gasp of pure horror but ignored it and placed my hand on his cheek. As he pulled back, slightly breathless, Daemon smiled at me and held my hand. Our fingers intertwined.

“Yes, my love.” I whispered in Valyrian as well.

We turned our backs on the Iron Throne, King Viserys, the Oldtown worm, and the Small Council members. Lyman Beesbury, Lyonel Strong, and Harrold Westerling were the only ones—especially the Lord Commander—who never despised me as the Heir of the Realm for being born a woman. On the contrary, the Master of Coin and the Master of Laws had always been willing to help me in my position and defended me when Viserys wanted to sell me to the Prince of Dorne and Jason Lannister.

And Ser Harrold Westerling would always be like a father to me.

“Wait, Rhaenyra!” Viserys shouted. “Daughter, please! I will not take any of your titles away, nor disown you as my heir or exile you!” His voice grew more desperate and anguished with every step we took away from him and the Iron Throne. “Forget the marriage to Jason Lannister, I accept your union with Daemon, my daughter!”

King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, pleas were muffled as the Great Hall doors closed behind us. He was left behind with his true family and the court of vipers. It was in the year 113 AC that Daemon and I set foot in King’s Landing for the last time for nearly two decades.

My true home would always be wherever Daemon was.

♛

 

Notes:

In the next chapter, we’ll have the birth of the dragon twin girls and the final chapter of the first arc.
Kisses!

Chapter 30: Chapter 24.

Notes:

Hello, good evening, little dragons!

Sorry for the brief absence.

I’m currently writing a lesbian romance between Rosalie Hale and Isabella Swan, so time has been a bit tight. But here I am bringing an update and the last chapter of ACT I. In the next chapter, there will be a 17-year time jump, and the litter will be much older. By the way, in the link below, there’s a playlist I made on Spotify for the story.

Anyway, happy reading, and a heads-up that there is a birth scene.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21ZaKX336gsKyrLcXjcrwK?si=r80gwoSwTWeexDRWlcbv_g&pi=3smjdGIyT061O

♛

Chapter 24.

" What was a cursed Throne compared to my true family?”

Volantis, 114 A.C.

I barely remembered the first years of my life. Even so, it was impossible to forget how Aemon Targaryen and Jocelyn Baratheon welcomed me as if I were their child, allowing me to know what it was like to be loved by a kepa and a muña. Rhaenys and Dhaerys were my older sisters. Before the death of my father Aemon, we were a happy family, and I felt like a loved, protected, and cherished child.

It hurt deeply to lose my kepa and my muña and see my small happy family torn apart because of death.

I was just a child when I lost my parents for the second time.

"I'm afraid I’ll be like Baelon..." I confessed almost in a whisper, just a few weeks ago. We were on a secluded island, slightly away from Volantis. We had stopped to rest after a few hours of flight. "Not being a good father to my daughters or failing to love them enough." I kept my head lowered, staring at the sharp, gleaming blade of Dark Sister. "I know how Nyra will be an incredible mother, but I’m so afraid of failing them."

She sighed deeply and draped an arm over my shoulder, embracing me gently. Despite only a five-year difference between us, Dhaerys had always acted as a kind of mother to me while we were at court during our youth. I deeply regretted when she fled on the eve of her marriage to Viserys; however, I always understood her and could never judge her for leaving behind Dreamfyre.

"When I decided to name my daughter Baela, it wasn’t to honor the man who despised you so much and blamed you for our mother Alyssa’s death, but for my beloved kepa, whom I vaguely remembered from my first five years of life, brother." — She whispered, melancholically. I rested my head on the curve of her neck and draped an arm around her waist while her small hand began stroking my hair. "I’m sorry for everything, Daemon."

I closed my eyes and relaxed against the comforting warmth of my older sister, listening to the gentle sound of the sea. Soon, we would return home to find our wives and then prepare for dinner with Aunt Saera.

"You will never be a father like Baelon or Viserys." Dhaerys spoke again after a while. Her voice was soft and affectionate, yet firm with every word. "Unlike them, I am certain you will be a wonderful kepa for each of your little ones, just as Aemon was for us." She paused and kissed the top of my head. "I haven’t been in King’s Landing in the past few years, but I know how present and loving you were with Rhaenyra during her childhood."

I lifted my head and whispered:

"Thank you, sister."

Dhaerys smiled and kissed my forehead.

"There’s nothing to thank me for, little brother." She winked, and a mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Besides, I won’t hesitate to cut off your beloved cock and feed Dreamfyre with your carcass, if necessary." Dhaerys rose gracefully to her feet and made a funny grimace. "Shall we go? We’ve been away from home long enough, so I imagine my wife is already irritated by my absence."

I just laughed and called Caraxes through our bond. My boy and Dreamfyre landed on the small island with a loud crash.

"I can’t believe Princess Dhaerys Targaryen, Dreamfyre’s rider, is afraid of my good sister." I teased playfully as I mounted Caraxes. "I never would have imagined that little Alicent could frighten you, sister."

Laughing, my sister raised a finger at me.

"It’s not fear, it’s respect, little brother." Her lips twisted into a sadistic smile. "You talk about me, yet you forget that you almost wag your tail for everything my beautiful little niece asks and says." She laughed heartily while I rolled my eyes. "Daemon?"  Her tone suddenly softened. I looked at her, curious about the abrupt change. "There’s no need to fear the future. You and Rhaenyra are no longer alone." She smiled. "Sōvēs, Dreamfyre!"

We were no longer alone.

After the brief conversation with Dhaerys, the months passed more lightly, and both my mind and my heart finally began to reach a consensus. There was still a trace of fear lingering somewhere in my chest; after all, the birthing bed was a battlefield in which I was completely useless, able only to watch my wife wage her own war. Even so, I couldn’t have been happier, loving Rhaenyra more with each passing day and extremely eager for the arrival of our little ones.

On our first night in Volantis, we dreamed of two girls, our daughters.

"Where is my wife?" I asked the servant I encountered in one of the corridors of Dhaerys’ enormous mansion.

The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of my disheveled state, and she offered a short bow.

"Princess Rhaenyra is with Princess Dhaerys, Lady Baela, Lady Lucera, and Lady Laena in Lady Alicent’s private garden, my prince." — She hurried to explain.

I shook my head in thanks and began walking in the direction the servant had indicated. It took just a few seconds before I started hearing loud, feminine laughter mixed with animated voices. I passed by our guards, who didn’t even move in my presence. All of them were Immaculates, former slaves we had bought and then freed. While slavery was forbidden in Westeros, in the Free Cities people were still enslaved and discarded like trash.

My wife had cried when she discovered the existence of slavery in Volantis and had severed the heads of those who opposed our freeing of the Immaculates we had purchased.

The moment I passed through the double doors and entered Alicent’s private garden, my body froze, and I had to take a deep breath.

I was blessed by her divine sight, and my heart raced in response. I remained frozen for a few seconds, drinking in her beauty and feeling like the damn luckiest man in the world that she was my wife. Among so many more honorable and better noblemen, she had chosen me without hesitation. I was her husband, and it was my seed that had swelled the Delight of the Realm’s belly with our little ones inside.

As my passion’s belly grew, so did my pride and possessiveness.

"Brother!" Dhaerys murmured, smiling broadly as her gaze fell on my hands. "Oh, this is wonderful news."

At that moment, the ladies turned their heads to look at me, but it was just one pair of eyes I longed for. As soon as she saw me, my wife broke into a radiant smile, and the world seemed to disappear around us, leaving only the two of us.

Dhaerys had been right when she joked that I barely wagged my tail like a damned dog.

"Husband!" Nyra sang cheerfully, extending a hand toward me.

Automatically, I stepped closer, and my smile widened. Her attention finally fell on the dragon egg in my hands.

"Daemon?" Her expression lit up just as it did whenever I gifted her something. "It’s so beautiful!" Her lilac eyes glistened, but she pouted indignantly, placing her tiny hands on the enormous belly. "Now I understand why Syrax has been so quiet around our bond the past few days," she muttered, adorably sulking.

"Caraxes told me that your Golden Lady knew you would appear at their nest if she knew about her first clutch." My lips curved into a sly smile. "Syrax knows how stubborn her pregnant rider is." I winked as she rolled her eyes, the indignant pout growing. "She laid two eggs, and my boy gave me this one to bring here. The other was placed in the incubator with Dreamfyre’s eggs."

I was training with Harwin and some Dragon Guards when Caraxes called me. My curiosity piqued as I made my way to the Abyss, where the Bloody Worm’s nest was, along with Syrax. At that moment, my boy was in a state of pure joy, practically purring like a giant kitten through our bond. It was a beautiful and grand surprise to find two eggs in their nest.

"It’s perfect." Nyra whispered as she held the large, overheated egg between her hands. Her admiring gaze danced across the red scales with tiny golden streaks, shining like polished metal in the sunlight. "One of our daughters will have a beautiful dragon." She smiled at me, though she furrowed her brow slightly afterward. "Yes, yes, Tenny, no dragon from the cranky red line will ever be more beautiful than you."

Chuckling softly, I knelt beside the lounge where Rhaenyra was reclining against a pile of soft pillows, resting a hand on my passion’s seven-month-protruding belly. Instantly, one of the babies gave a soft kick against my palm, and I had to swallow hard as the second one made itself known. I caressed the spot as Nyra murmured quietly, lifting my gaze to see my soulmate’s flushed face.

At twenty-nine days of age, I had never been so happy and at peace with myself.

Sometimes, I was still amazed at how much my life had changed in a single year. I was no longer trapped in an unhappy and unwanted marriage with Rhea Royce, scavenging for scraps of recognition in King’s Landing. On the contrary, I had won the war, been crowned King of the Narrow Sea by the Heir to the Iron Throne, married the woman I loved passionately in the traditions of our house, and finally understood that my true home would always be wherever Rhaenyra was—and soon, our two little ones would be born.

"Don’t kick your muña, babies," I whispered in High Valyrian, pressing a kiss to the spot of the third kick. Rhaenyra laughed, brushing my slightly longer strands back with her tiny fingers. "Soon, very soon, you’ll leave the mansion that is your muña’s belly and be in our arms," I continued, my voice slightly hoarse from emotion.

My passion laughed and caressed her own belly.

"It’s amazing how calm your daughters are with your voice, husband." There was so much warmth and love in her whispered tone. "Before you arrived, these mischievous girls seemed to be training as if they were riding a dragon inside my belly." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, still smiling widely. "Though both are your daughters, one of them is far more spirited than the other…"

Though I knew my wife continued speaking cheerfully, my mind wandered slightly, and I simply kept admiring her beauty. At seven months of gestation, Rhaenyra grew more radiant and desirable to my eyes each day. My passion was perfect. Her nickname as the Delight of the Realm seemed to intensify over time, as Nyra’s body matured, gaining more delicious curves and a belly growing to carry our little ones.

I had to take a deep breath to contain the familiar impulses that only my wife awakened in me.

Damn seven hells!

When Nyra asked me to cut her hair, it had been only a few days since we arrived in Volantis, still getting used to our new home in Dhaerys’ mansion. As I had told her after killing the Crab-Fattening creature, my wife confessed that saying goodbye to her long locks was also part of the new life she had started by my side. Now, her silver, curly strands fell just below her shoulders.

"You didn’t hear a word I said, did you, husband?" Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her belly.

Though her mood had become a completely unpredictable and unstable mess with the pregnancy, she didn’t seem upset that I had lost track of the conversation. In fact, I hadn’t even noticed when Dhaerys and the other women had left us alone.

"What were you so focused on, uncle?"

"On you, my passion," I whispered, holding her hand and placing her palm over the left side of my chest, where my heart beat fiercely. Rhaenyra inhaled deeply. "Avy jorraelan." Pressing my forehead against hers, I closed my eyes and held her face between my hands. Her tiny fingers curled into the strands at the nape of my neck, and her warm breath mingled with mine. "Thank you for everything, zaldrītsos."

Rhaenyra was my whole world.

♛

By Rhaenyra Targaryen.

"Passion?" Daemon whispered tenderly, kissing my bare shoulder. "Are you awake?" His voice seemed so far away from me, though I could feel almost his entire body pressed against mine. "My love?"

I let out an incomprehensible murmur, even to myself, and yawned again. I heard his little laugh at the nape of my neck, and his large hands returned to caress my huge, heavy belly. We were nestled together in the enormous copper bathtub in our chambers, enjoying the rain falling over Volantis and the cooler night air. Daemon sat behind me as I rested my head on his shoulder, my back against his muscular chest.

Even though the steaming water had cooled considerably, I was in such a deep state of relaxation that I didn’t want to get up and go sleep in our bed.

Daemon’s two daughters tired me so much, and I hadn’t even seen my own feet in ages.

"Let’s get out," he tried to rise first, but I grabbed his arm and snuggled closer against his chest, like a spoiled little kitten. Kepus laughed and hugged me. "Alright, passion, but just a few more minutes."

Content, I shook my head slightly and whispered through a long yawn:

"Thank you, uncle."

At nearly nine moons of gestation, I was about to give birth to my daughters, and I was so eager to finally hold them in my arms. Despite all the love and happiness the two little ones growing inside me brought, a part of me still feared the battlefield that was the birthing bed. Sometimes I found myself caressing my belly, unable to shake the last image I had of my muña:

Spread open like an animal, her eyes wide with horror, and completely covered in her own blood.

But if I had been able to go to war with no experience in an actual battle and help win it with my two dragons, then surely I could bring my daughters into the world safely, right?

The Goddess Syrax had assured me that everything would go well with this and future pregnancies. Besides, Daemon would never have the same petty and horrible behavior as Viserys, tearing me open like an animal just to have his heir. On the contrary, my husband sought out the best midwives and healers of the Free Cities to ensure I had the finest care and assistance. We also had Rhaenys, Dhaerys, and Saera—older women who would be present on the day of my labor, along with my husband.

"Let’s go to bed, princess," Daemon whispered.

He helped me out of the bathtub, dried me, and put a loose nightgown on me. I felt so sleepy and exhausted that I barely moved, letting Daemon handle all the work and physical effort. He chuckled softly as he took me into his arms and kissed my forehead while carrying me toward our bed. I sighed in satisfaction the very moment I was placed atop the soft mattress and my sore back touched the pile of pillows.

"Thank you, husband," I whispered, eyes closed, my body numbed by sleep. Sleeping comfortably had become a rarity because of the sheer size of the castle where Daemon’s daughters lived, so I cherished every moment I found a comfortable position. "Avy jorraelan." I blinked slowly and gave a half-smile to the love of my life.

Kepus responded, but I was too drowsy to know what he said; I could only feel the ghost of his lips on my forehead and the familiar, tender touch against my belly. Finally, darkness embraced me.

"The time has come, Rhaenyra."

I woke up abruptly to the familiar whisper of the Goddess Syrax, lovingly echoing in my mind, still clouded by dreams. I had been dreaming of my girls again, so I was a little disoriented when I opened my eyes and found the room dimly lit. It took me a few seconds to understand that I was in our chambers and that it was still raining heavily over Volantis. I turned my head to the side and saw my husband sleeping. Daemon was completely naked, his hair tousled, lips slightly parted, and an arm draped over his eyes.

I bit my lower lip as my gaze danced over the beautiful shape of his body before me.

“Fuck.” I shuddered and gasped softly, resting my hands on my belly.

A sudden pain shot through my lower back, radiating down to my groin. The day before, I had felt an uncomfortable ache at the base of my spine, but I thought it was from the heavy weight of carrying two babies—and I was a small woman.

“Uncle? Love?” I began shaking him as another intense contraction ripped through me. “Daemon? Please wake up!”

He opened his eyes and sat up abruptly in bed, his hair disheveled and his face a little creased. Even through the pain, I couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful he looked. Kepus blinked and stared at me, seeming not to fully recognize me at first. Daemon would be outraged—and his cheeks would turn slightly red—when I told him later how cute he looked in that moment.

“Nyra?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

I grimaced and groaned in pain as another contraction hit.

“Sweetheart, what is it? Are you okay?” Finally seeming to shake off the haze of sleep, Daemon panicked and rushed toward me. “What’s happening?” His eyes were alert and full of worry. Kneeling at my side, he held my hand and pushed back some strands of hair that were falling over my sweat-covered face. “Is it time? Are they coming?”

I took a deep breath and shook my head.

“I think… so…” I frowned and shivered. Daemon’s face went pale, and he froze at my side. “But… Oh, fuck!” I screamed and clutched my belly with my free hand as the pain surged. “The fucking contractions… they’re so strong and coming faster than they… told me they would.” My vision blurred with tears, and fear began to spread through my racing heart. “Uncle… I’m scared.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and the fear grew even stronger. My sobs mixed with the agony of the contractions, and Daemon’s frantic figure blurred even more. His hands cupped my face, and he pressed his forehead against mine. His violet eyes were fierce and intense.

“You are the strongest, bravest, most incredible person I’ve ever known, my love.” Daemon whispered fiercely. He didn’t look away and wiped my tears with his thumbs. My heart raced. “You are Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, the Dragon Princess, bearer of Fire Heart, rider of two dragons, and, fuck, you went to war. So you will bring our babies into this world without a single problem, do you hear me?”

I gripped his wrists and nodded again.

“Yes, kepus.”

Daemon broke into a wide smile and kissed my lips.

“Good, that’s good, my love.” He murmured and frowned when I moaned softly in pain. “I need to call the midwives and...”

My uncle-husband was interrupted by the door to our chambers slamming open violently and the sudden entrance of a disheveled figure, wearing a nightgown inside out and with her neck covered in red marks. Coming closer to the bed, Dhaerys made a face of disgust at her brother’s nakedness and then widened her eyes when she saw my flushed face. I had to stifle a laugh.

“At Syrax’s request, Dreamfyre ordered me to come here now.” She whispered, her voice agitated and worried. “Are you in labor, Nyra?” she asked, staring at my belly with a pale face. Her answer came in the form of a scream of pain from me. “Holy shit! Put some damn clothes on, Daemon! I don’t want to see that thing you used to get my niece pregnant ever again!”

Minutes had passed, or maybe hours, I couldn’t tell.

Most of my rationality had been consumed and clouded by the excruciating pain of those infernal contractions, centered in my back and the base of my belly. In truth, my whole body was sore, exhausted, and drenched in sweat. I had never felt so drained in my life. By now, I had cursed almost everyone in our chambers, cried out of anger and fear, threatened Daemon—the one responsible for my suffering—called for my muña, and been comforted by Rhaenys and Dhaerys.

At no point did Syrax and Tennebris leave me. I could feel them in some corner of my mind, which was increasingly consumed by the torment of the contractions and the desperate wish for everything to end well. The dragons, though silent in our shared bond, radiated anxiety, deep concern for my struggle, and a growing sense of joy. My Golden Lady growled softly every time I screamed, and the God of Darkness seemed ready to burn something just to ease his own restless agitation.

“It’s almost time, my dear.” Rhaenys murmured in High Valyrian and ran a damp cloth over my sweat-covered face. I stared at my muña of the heart as hot tears rolled down. She gave me an encouraging smile and kissed my tangled hair. “You are the very fire of the dragon, and you will bring my granddaughters into this world safely.”

I sniffled and frowned before screaming in pain, my hands gripping the sheets. The contractions had grown stronger and more frequent, with the time between them decreasing drastically. My water had broken some time ago, soaking much of the mattress beneath me. The arrival of my daughters was inevitable, and I longed for them. Despite the joy and anticipation of finally meeting them, the suffering was hellish.

"I… I can’t…" I sobbed loudly, tears mingling with the strands of hair stuck to my sweaty face. My breaths came in heavy gasps; the pain only intensified, and exhaustion consumed me more and more. I screamed as the contraction hit with merciless force. This one was the worst yet. "Daemon…" I cried again. "I… I can’t. Forgive me."

The joy of finally meeting my daughters was being overshadowed and consumed by the fear of death. What if I couldn’t do it? What if I were cursed like my mother and destined to die on the birthing bed? The terror almost drowned out all the certainty and encouragement that the Goddess Syrax had given me in that dream months ago.

"No!" Daemon’s voice rang out loud and strong, like a roar from Caraxes. He sat behind me to support me, while I leaned back against his bare chest, straddling his legs. "You are Rhaenyra Targaryen, my brave, strong, fierce wife. You can do this, and I am here now and always, my love." He declared vehemently.

Still crying, I turned my head and looked at his face. My husband’s eyes held a fierce glint, tearful but not yet shedding. I shook my head and clung to hope—the certainty that my daughters would be born safely and that I would not share my mother’s tragic fate on the birthing bed.

"Fuck!" I screamed as another sharper, more intense contraction hit. I dug my nails into Daemon’s arms as a burning sensation spread in my core and a sudden urge to push overtook me. "It’s all your fault, uncle!" I hissed through gritted teeth, panting loudly.

Wisely, my husband said nothing.

"I see the little head." Midwife Aria murmured, peeking between my legs with a smile. I wanted to scratch her face clean off for that cheerful expression. "Push when you feel the urge, princess."

I bit my tongue to avoid yelling at her again, letting out a howl of pain instead. Amid the chaos, I heard the familiar flapping of wings and the loud landing of two dragons in the main courtyard before Dhaerys’ mansion: Syrax and Tennebris. Tears filled my eyes again, but I focused on pushing when the urge returned.

"You can do it, my child," Tennebris whispered in my mind. "Strength, Rhaenyra. You are the Dragon Princess, blessed by the Valyrian Gods and protected by the Goddess Syrax."

My screams of agony mixed with the powerful, wild roars of Syrax. The dragon and her rider suffered together, yet we did not give up. At times, my mind seemed to merge completely with that of my Golden Lady. I glimpsed the dark sky, the fine rain falling endlessly, the mansion, and Tennebris. The God of Darkness, though still lying down, never took his emerald gaze from the window of my room.

"You can do it, my beautiful love," Daemon affirmed, never complaining as my nails dug and cut into his flesh. "Bring our daughters into the world."

For a brief moment, the world and my heart stopped simultaneously when I heard a strong, piercing cry. I could only look at the tiny baby, covered in white fluids and some blood, in the arms of midwife Aria. She was my first daughter. All the suffering, the tears, the fear that something would go wrong, and the infernal contractions suddenly became insignificant. My eyes filled, and tears of joy streamed down my face.

"Pl…please…" I sobbed, lifting my weak arms toward my baby. "Please, give me my daughter."

Midwife Aria cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the fussy baby in a thick blanket, the one Alicent had sewn in the colors of House Targaryen, embroidered with a three-headed dragon.

"You are so beautiful, my love." I held the tiny bundle with such devotion and brought her close to my chest so that my daughter’s head rested against my heart. A quiet, timid sob sounded near the nape of my neck. Daemon had buried his face in my hair and was crying almost silently. "Look, uncle." I called him, smiling openly. "See our first daughter."

Daemon hugged me tighter, though he was being extremely careful. His purple eyes fixed on the tiny wrinkled face, and he opened the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. Deep in my heart, I knew that, just like me, he was discovering and diving headfirst into a new kind of love: the love we felt so profoundly for our daughters. Looking a little hesitant, he brushed his fingertips across her small furrowed forehead and her cheeks.

"She looks like you, my passion." His low voice carried so much adoration and happiness. She kept her tiny fist pressed against her cheek, and her lilac eyes stared back at us. A soft silvery fuzz covered her little head. Our first daughter was beautiful and perfect. "Our Visenya looks so much like you when you were born."

Within seconds, Visenya was in Dhaerys’s arms when the contractions returned, and I prepared to meet our other baby. Just a little longer, and my second daughter would be in my arms too. My heart raced as screams tore from my lips and I pushed with ferocity. It didn’t take long before my baby was born. However, unlike Visenya, there was no cry, not even the faintest whimper at first.

A chilling sensation pierced my bones, erasing all previous euphoria.

"Why isn’t my daughter crying?!" Daemon shouted desperately. Midwife Aria didn’t answer immediately; she only moved to the side, focused entirely on our baby. "Answer me, damn it!" he snarled, his body tense with rage and fear.

Visenya burst into loud cries, and Dhaerys began pacing the chamber, trying to soothe her. Rhaenys rushed quickly to the midwife’s side, her face pale and her eyes blazing. I remained frozen in horror, my womb empty, my mind consumed by icy terror, with one daughter crying and the other in complete silence. It all happened in less than a minute, but to me, it felt like an eternity.

What if…?

"She’s fine! The princess is fine!" Midwife Aria exclaimed. The middle-aged woman turned toward us and sighed. "She’s just very quiet." She smiled. "Unlike her sister, this little princess is calm, but just as healthy and perfect."

Later, Midwife Aria would confess to Aunt Rhaenys that she thought Helaena had been born choking, which was why she hadn’t cried or whimpered.

I tried to stand to take my daughter from the midwife’s arms, but my weakened body would not allow it. As tears of both relief and despair streamed down my face, every instinct screamed at me to take my babies back and protect them inside my womb again. Rhaenys seemed to notice my struggle and urged the midwife to hurry, whispering endlessly to the older woman. My sobs grew louder at the very moment I finally took my baby in my arms and brought her close to my heart.

Just as I had felt when I first saw Visenya, the same wave of new and glorious love filled me completely.

"Not even properly born and already giving your mommy a fright, my love." I murmured, laughing nervously. The fear still lingered, but I pushed it aside into oblivion and focused on the little creature in my arms. My smile returned when I heard Daemon crying again. "Oh!" I breathed deeply as she opened her eyes and I found myself staring into deep purple irises. "Husband, look." I gazed at him. "She has your eyes."

Daemon smiled in the same way as he looked at our daughter and ran his fingertips over her tiny face. Although Visenya had a slight silvery fuzz on her head, our second baby had a bit more hair. Moreover, she seemed to gaze at us with more intensity, a look different from her sister’s.

"Our little daughter is perfect, my love." He whispered, his eyes glistening with tears, and looked at me with a radiant smile. "Our Helaena?"

My smile mirrored his.

"Yes, our Helaena." I looked back at the baby and then smiled at Dhaerys. Her face was red and swollen. "Aunt, please hand me Visenya."

Carefully, Visenya and Helaena were placed in my arms. Daemon stayed behind me, always assisting and supporting me. My entire body ached and was sticky with sweat, my eyes heavy with sleep, and exhaustion ready to claim me at any moment. Still, first, I would hold my daughters properly and adore them alongside my twin flame.

They were my family, my whole world.

"Thank you, Rhaenyra." Daemon whispered against my hair, holding us gently, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Thank you for loving me, for being my wife, and giving me the honor of having a beautiful family with you. Avy jorraelan, zaldrītsos."

I barely had the strength to mumble:

"Avy jorraelan, kepus."

It was two weeks after the 17th day of my name, in the year 114 A.C., that Visenya and Helaena Targaryen came into the world.

♛

Volantis, 114 A.C.

Seven moons later.

I stopped in front of the nursery door, and my smile widened as I heard the sweet, familiar sound of childish laughter. It was true that these sounds and indecipherable babblings had already become a part of my life for some time, but the intense feeling of happiness and the deep love for my babies grew with every new dawn.

Seven moons ago, I had become the mother of two beautiful, perfect little princesses.

Adapting to a completely new routine had been challenging and exhausting at first, for both my husband and me. There were tears shed, sleepless nights, nearly endless cries from the babies, the feeling of being bad parents, and honest conversations between us. Over time, we adapted to our growing family, to being first-time parents, and to having our daughters in our arms. On top of that, Saera, Rhaenys, and Dhaerys were always willing to help, and we still had the twins’ nannies.

The Dragon Twins, as the people of Volantis called them.

It was also amusing to notice that — while noble husbands left their children in the care of mothers, nannies, septas, and servants — Daemon almost used Dark Sister and Caraxes to intimidate anyone who tried to take one of the twins from his arms. My husband once growled at Elinda. It didn’t matter if it was to clean them, bathe them, put them to sleep after nursing, or feed them mashed banana; kepus was always ready.

He truly was my twin flame, an incredible husband, a fierce partner, and a wonderful father.

"Everything all right, Princess Rhaenyra?" Bobb, one of the Dragon Guards, a former Unsullied slave, asked with a concerned tone. I lifted my head and met his gaze, giving a faint smile. "Do you need me to call one of the healers?" He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes studying my face carefully.

I hurriedly shook my head.

"No need, Ser Bobb. Just lost in my thoughts," I murmured. "Is my husband with my daughters?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Prince Daemon is with the little princesses."

I bid farewell to the nearly two-meter-tall man and finally opened the nursery door. A fresh wave of the twins’ laughter broke the brief silence, and the warmth in my chest deepened. As I stepped toward the room from where the sounds came, I could hear my husband imitating the roars of a dragon and small wooden blocks being knocked over. More laughter erupted, and Daemon began speaking to the babies in Valyrian.

"So, the great and fierce red dragon descended from the sky to burn his enemies." He narrated cheerfully, letting out funny roars and moving a miniature Caraxes sculpture through the air. The twins watched kepa’s movements and giggled at every new sound he made. "His name was Caraxes, and there had never been a dragon as brave and fierce as him."

"Insufferable human!" Tennebris’ indignation echoed in my mind. "Talking to my baby, my rider, claiming that that flying red worm is braver and fiercer than me." He huffed, completely annoyed. "I should burn them down to their cursed bones."

A laugh got caught in my throat. Time passed, yet the bickering and apparent rivalry between Tennebris and Caraxes never diminished. Even my husband became a target of the sour, mocking humor of the black dragon.

"He’s your rider’s beloved kepa, and I think Visenya would be very upset if she found out that you burned him to his cursed bones, Tenny," I teased in a playful whisper.

Ever since we met and a bond formed between us, I always knew that the God of Darkness was destined to remain in my life, though not as my dragon forever. No, there was another reason behind the decisions of the Valyrian Gods. So many years ago, Tennebris lost his first and only rider to an untimely death. He never managed to overcome that loss, and with the bond broken, he was almost driven to complete madness.

The pain, the grief, and the abrupt loss of Princess Maelys Targaryen, the only daughter of Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys, had transformed him into the infamous and feared Cannibal.

"You are detestable, Rhaenyra," Tennebris muttered.

This time, I couldn’t hold back and laughed.

"Quiet, Tennebris!" Syrax intervened, annoyed. "Old grump."

"You are detestable too, Syrax," he continued, more irritable than before, sinking back into his cave in the Pit. "I pray to the Valyrian Gods every day that my baby isn’t like you two, who won’t let me burn the flying red worm and your insufferable human."

Seven moons ago, after the birth of the twins, the grumpy and fierce God of Darkness was given a second chance. The birth of Visenya Targaryen brought more light and color into Tennebris’ world when rider and dragon finally met in person.

"My love!" Daemon exclaimed as he finally noticed my presence, rising immediately from the rug and walking toward me. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, and he kissed my lips passionately. "Finally, you’ve returned to me and our babies." His wide, joyful smile made my stomach flutter. "The three of us were about to come looking for you."

Giggling with delight, I wrapped my arms around his neck and played with his slightly longer hair with my fingers. Even after a year and a half of marriage, we still felt like the newlyweds who had lost themselves in each other’s arms and warmth back on Dragonstone. Somehow, I knew our love would never fade. On the contrary, every moment together was never enough, and the feelings that enveloped us as a couple only grew stronger.

"Sorry for the delay, my love," I said, kissing his charming chin with a soft smile. At no point did Daemon let go of me. "Aeron and your little ones held me longer than I expected in their room. By the way, we were summoned by Aunt Dhaerys to dine with them." I rested my hands on his strong chest and let my gaze fall on our two little bundles of joy. "My babies!" My smile widened as I walked toward them.

On a huge, soft, and fluffy rug, surrounded by scattered pillows, lay Visenya and Helaena. Daemon had placed the twins in the same nest. The babies opened enormous, toothless smiles at the sight of me, warming my heart with maternal love, and stretched out their arms, calling for me frantically. I knelt in front of them and planted a long kiss on my daughters’ tiny foreheads. Visenya laughed and tugged my hair, while Helaena continued smiling broadly.

"Hello, my loves," I whispered. "Sorry for Munã’s delay. I was in Aunt Dhaerys and Aunt Lili’s chambers with little cousin Aeron."

A little over a moon ago, the first child of Alicent and my Aunt Dhaerys was born. I had never seen my best friend so happy and emotional as when she held her son after hours of labor. Aeron Targaryen was a big baby, with Lili’s red hair and my aunt’s deep purple eyes. Baela and Lucera were over the moon at their brother’s arrival and constantly fought over who would hold him first.

During my own pregnancy, I had spent a good amount of time reading Queen Visenya’s journals closely. I was extremely surprised to find mention of a simple, yet risky and exhausting blood ritual that allowed two women to have biological children without the seed of a man. The women also had to be blessed by the Valyrian Gods for the pregnancy to be possible. That’s how the Warrior Queen and her sister-wife, Queen Rhaenys, became mothers to Princess Maelys Targaryen.

And now, Dhaerys and Alicent were the proud mothers of Aeron Targaryen.

"And these are Munã’s little darlings?" I continued, adopting a ridiculous voice and making faces with wide eyes. Visenya entwined her chubby little fingers in my hair again. "Ah, but I simply cannot resist so much cuteness right in front of me." I hummed and covered their soft cheeks with kisses. My daughters laughed until their faces turned red. "You are so perfect."

"Of course they’re perfect, my love, after all, I am their kepa," Daemon teased as he knelt beside me. I rolled my eyes at him without losing my wide, happy smile. "But all the beauty and grace you see comes from your Munã, my little ones." He winked and turned to gaze at them. "Right, loves of the kepa?"

No answer was needed. I chose to continue watching Daemon leaning over our daughters, making loud noises on their bellies, eliciting a festival of giggles from Visenya and Helaena. They were my family, my entire world. I wore a soft smile, the warm feeling of love burning in my chest.

What was a cursed Throne compared to my true family?

In the year 109 AC, in King’s Landing, my Munã was murdered, my little brother survived only a few hours after his violent birth, and I had asked Syrax to burn their bodies on the pyre.

In the year 114 AC, in Volantis, I was surrounded by the people I loved most, watching my husband be a wonderful kepa and listening to the laughter of our daughters.

And it would be in the year 131 AC that my revenge would begin, and the serpents would learn the true meaning of Fire and Blood.

♛

 

 

Notes:

Visenya will have a long life and will become queen after her mother, and Helaena was born into a real family, where love, respect, and safety are genuine. In this fic, they will have an amazing life, just like their brothers and sisters.

I hope you enjoyed this special chapter.

Now, how many children do you think Nyra and Daemon will have by the end of the story? And who will Visenya marry? And Hel?

Oooh, I’m so curious to know what you all think!

And for those who may not have understood, Tennebris (the Cannibal) was never actually Rhaenyra’s second dragon, but was sent by the Goddess Syrax to help in the war. The old dragon was always meant to belong to Visenya.

Kisses!

Chapter 31: Acto 2.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

Everyone, in yesterday’s chapter, in the birth scene, there was a mistake on my part and a passage was repeated, which caused part of the chapter not to be posted correctly. One little dragon pointed it out to me, and I’ve already fixed it. Thank you again, by the way.

 

♛

Acto II.

‘’For him, I would face death; for me, he would slaughter kingdoms. We would summon storms of fire and drown the earth in the blood of those who dared to threaten our children.’’

♛

 

 

 

 

 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21ZaKX336gsKyrLcXjcrwK?si=r80gwoSwTWeexDRWlcbv_g&pi=3smjdGIyT061O

Notes:

Get ready for this new arc of "Fire and Blood: The Dragon Princess"!

Chapter 32: Chapter 25.

Notes:

Hello, good evening, little dragons!

Finally, the first chapter of ACT II. Now, almost 18 years have passed since Nyra and Daemon set foot in King’s Landing, and they’ve had quite a few children…

Scene +18.

Enjoy the read!

♛

Chapter 25.

"Almost 20 years together and 8 children, yet my heart still raced and my stomach twisted just like when I first met him at the Steps."

Volantis, 131 A.C.

The constant pounding of his pelvis against my ass, mixed with his hoarse moans, grunts of pleasure, and my husband’s irregular breathing, was driving me insane.

"Does it feel good like this, zaldrītsos?" Daemon asked, panting, and the sound of a sudden slap echoed abruptly in our chambers, preventing me from responding. I moaned loudly as my whole body heated up even more and the familiar peak of release drew nearer. "Aren’t you going to answer me, my love?" He stopped thrusting into me, much to my despair. My husband was close to climaxing as well. "Nyra..." His large, calloused hand began to massage the spot hit by the slap. "You’re being disobedient."

My whole body shuddered and my legs weakened, almost making me collapse onto the bed at the authoritative, rough sound of Daemon’s voice.

"Kepus..." My own voice didn’t seem to belong to me, as it sounded so low and whiny. My heart was pounding hard and my breaths came in irregular gasps. I needed to come so badly. "Please, husband... uncle Daemon... I need it, kepus."

Daemon laughed just as his heavy hand delivered a second fiery slap to my sensitive ass, and the wetness between my legs trickled. Keeping his cock still inside me, he leaned over my sweat-covered body and kissed my tense back. As my long braid was still wrapped in his hand, he gave a sharp tug to the side, and pain pricked my scalp.

The sudden pain made my inner walls clamp down on his cock.

"Hmmm... What do you need, my love?" His wet tongue licked the sweat off my back, and a hard bite made me gasp. "My sweet, beautiful niece needs something, and I’d be a terrible kepus if I denied her any desire." He whispered and started rubbing my throbbing clit. I jumped slightly and almost cried when he twisted it between his calloused fingers. "What do you want from me, Rhaenyra?"

For you to finally make me come, damn it!

Though the answer was on the tip of my tongue, my brain, clouded with pleasure and intoxicated by Daemon’s dominant, possessive presence, left me somewhat out of reality.

Even though 18 years had passed since the day we married before the Valyrian Gods, at Dragonstone, and 8 children had been born from our union, the intensity and fervor of our love had never diminished. On the contrary, all the feelings that enveloped us as a couple had only gradually grown over time.

"I... I..." I swallowed repeatedly, trying to move and finally reach my peak. Daemon let out a low, drawn-out laugh. The sound made my nipples harden more against the Myr silk sheet and my center throb with anticipation. With some effort, I turned my head slightly to the side and glared at him sideways. "I... need to come, please... kepus."

Daemon’s mischievous, flushed expression lit up with a wide smile, showing his single damn dimple in full view.

"My queen’s desire is an order." He purred, wickedly.

I buried my face into the mattress and bit my lips to keep a scream of pleasure from escaping as he pulled out and buried himself back into me. Almost breathless, I whimpered as he hit the sensitive spot inside me and I could hear him letting out a panting laugh. He gripped my waist possessively again and maintained the frantic rhythm. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled our chambers, rising above our ragged breaths and moans.

"Ah... Uncle... Love..." I curled my fingers in the sheet and tried to move against him, but his hands kept me still. "Daemon!" I gasped loudly and bit my lip hard, tasting the metallic tang on my tongue. In this position, he went so deep inside me. "Damn! I’m almost there, kepus!"

He slipped a hand between my legs and returned to teasing my sensitive clit. I lifted my head and let out an audible moan, feeling the heat spread through my body and my heart race faster. The grip around my waist tightened, as did his thrusts and ragged breathing. Shivers of extreme pleasure ran down my spine, raising the hairs on my arms, and the peak of release finally exploded, dragging me into a sea of bliss.

"Daemon!" I called, between a hoarse moan and a cry of relief.

My body was flooded with the lightness of orgasm, and my legs would have given out if not for his arm around me. Daemon continued thrusting violently into me, going deep and bringing me close to a second peak in a short time.

"Oh, kepus! Fuck! Just like that!" I buried my head into the pillow and shuddered as the second climax of pleasure hit me.

"Fuck, Nyra!" Daemon grunted loudly, gripping the soft flesh of my waist. Two more thrusts, and the hot stream of his seed filled me. "Gods, my love." He let out a panting laugh.

When Daemon pulled out of me, I fell onto my stomach and rolled to lie on my back.

With my eyes half-closed, I watched him disappear toward the bath chamber and return seconds later. He wiped me clean with a damp cloth, removing the remnants of his own seed, and then lay down beside me. I was pulled against his chest as he lazily ran his hand down my back. I rested my head on his shoulder, tracing imaginary patterns on my scarred stomach.

"I missed you so much, Nyra." He whispered, his tone low and loving. I shifted slightly and rested my chin in the center of his chest so I could look at his face. His gaze was warm, and he smiled almost shyly. "Having to spend this week in Stepstone, away from you and the rest of our brood, was horrible."

I returned a warm smile and scooted closer to kiss him. Without the earlier fiery passion consuming us so intensely, we kissed more calmly, though still equally hungry and passionate for each other. Daemon kept his right hand on my back and tangled the fingers of his left hand in the sweaty strands at the nape of my neck.

"We missed you too, husband." I smiled as I pulled back and lay on him again, my chin resting on his chest so I could continue gazing at his face. Daemon smiled and pushed some stray strands behind my ear. "Maelys asked me to start training her with her sisters earlier today. She said she wants to defend our lands and our family like us and her older siblings."

Since we left King’s Landing almost 18 years ago, Volantis had become our home.

We built a castle in Stepstone and inhabited nearly all the islands over the years. The place, once inhospitable and targeted by pirates, became a trade hub for foreigners, a maritime route between the Free Cities and Westeros, and a major exporter of salt and precious gems. Inside the mountain that Fat Crab had used as a hideout during the Stepstone War, one of the diggers found an almost infinite source of valuable stones.

It didn’t take long for the salt and jewels produced in Stepstone to gain a strong and powerful reputation far and wide. We began negotiating and selling to the major Houses of Westeros and the wealthiest nobles of the Free Cities. Our coffers quickly began to fill with gold, attracting unwanted attention, though nothing that surprised us.

The first to move and make contact was King’s Landing. At first, we only read their letters, burned them, and laughed at their audacity. Each message was always signed by the Lord Hand, that fat leech from Oldtown. However, the last raven we received was written in King Viserys’s own hand, even bearing his signature to prove legitimacy. He claimed that, as we were part of Westeros, we would have to start paying taxes to the Crown immediately.

Daemon’s only response was a copy of the contract Viserys had signed, which “rewarded” the Stepstone lands to him for the victory in the war. However, the King and the Crown would never have any ties to the islands. In other words, they thought they had my uncle with an enormous unsolvable problem and would wash their hands of it if he needed help. What no one expected was how the inhospitable lands would become productive and extremely valuable over time.

The second to try to claim what was ours was a new alliance formed among the Three Daughters. Five years ago, a second Triarchy arose to try to take the Steps as their own. In the end, all were killed and burned by us and our Dragons. In return, my heart almost stopped when I saw Visenya, twelve days old at the time, riding Tennebris, burning enemy ships and killing pirates.

And I thought the biggest scare Visenya could ever give me in my life was when she and Helaena rode the Dark God alone for the first time at seven days old.

Now, Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh belonged to the Stepstone Targaryens.

"Our eighth daughter is only three days name, my love." Daemon frowned thoughtfully, though a proud smile began to form on his slightly swollen lips. I huffed softly and raised an eyebrow, staring at him silently. "Well, if Maelys wants to start training with Aemma, Daenna, and Alyssa, I see no reason to deny her request. Don’t you?" His warm gaze focused on my face.

I didn’t answer immediately, simply continued watching him with a small smile on my lips.

So handsome.

A tiny voice whispered passionately inside my head, and I agreed without hesitation. Time had been very kind to Daemon, making him even more handsome over the years. At forty-six days name, subtle lines traced around his purple eyes, becoming more evident when he smiled openly. His hair remained perfectly silver, with strands kept at neck length.

He was like a fine wine, getting more flavorful with time.

"What’s wrong, my love?" He furrowed his brows and stared at me with evident curiosity. Almost twenty years together and eight children, yet my heart still raced and my stomach fluttered like the first time I saw him at the Steps. "Nyra?" He insisted as my silence continued.

I was about to call for kepus when I heard a soft movement behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I didn’t need to turn immediately to know he was watching me, feeling the ferocity and depth of his purple eyes fixed on every part of my body. His heavy, irritated breathing sounded loud in the uncomfortable quiet that fell over us, though mine seemed stuck in my throat.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing, blood warming in my veins. There was also a warm, pleasurable feeling spreading through my stomach. Beyond the nervousness of facing his fury, there was something else boiling inside me.

"I love you so much, Daemon," I whispered. My heart still pounded, and dragons seemed to fly freely in my stomach. These feelings were only him, my uncle-husband, giving me a lifetime of life. "I will love you forever, and in the next lives if they exist." My voice became lower and emotional. "My love, my twin flame."

When we arrived in Volantis and settled into Aunt Dhaerys’ mansion, Daemon secretly went to the city’s best jeweler. A few days later, he came home smiling and even a bit shy, holding a beautiful package that made me very curious and excited. Since my childhood, my uncle-husband had always spoiled me with the finest gifts gold could buy, and I never hid how much I loved everything I received from him.

The Valyrian steel necklace adorned with rubies I received on the day of my name never left my neck.

Yet that day, so many years ago, the gift ordered and given by Daemon was far more special than any I had ever received from him.

Inside the beautiful carved wooden box with dragon designs, there were two Valyrian steel rings. One had a wider band and the other was thinner and more delicate, but both depicted Syrax intertwined with Caraxes. A yellow diamond symbolized my Lady, and a ruby the Bloody Worm. On the inside, our names and the year of our marriage were engraved.

He also asked Dhaerys to travel to Dragonstone and request the High Priest to bless both rings.

"Rhaenyra, my love…" His palm covered my cheek, and his thumb brushed my slightly parted lips. Closing my eyes, I leaned my face into the warm touch and inhaled his scent near my nose. "Look at me," he whispered, and I met his gaze, consumed by the warmth in his eyes. "I love you so much too." A mischievous smile spread across his handsome face. "I will love you in this life and in however many more exist, my passion."

I licked my lips, noticing how his warm gaze darkened again, the wild, possessive gleam immediately returning. I shifted over his chest to level my face with his and rested my forehead against his. His hot, heavy breath mingled with mine. His calloused hand slid down my back, leaving a trail of shivers, and landed on my left buttock, gripping the fevered flesh sharply.

I let out a laugh mixed with a whiny moan.

"You love my ass so much, husband," I teased.

Smiling amusedly, I moved back slightly to face him better. Daemon licked his lips, his gaze darkening further, and squeezed my flesh more firmly. His cock was already hard between us.

"Hm…" I straddled his stomach, resting my palms on his chest and leaning forward, bringing my breasts closer to his face. "What is it, uncle?" I raised an eyebrow, provocatively.

The air in our room felt unbearably hotter.

"What is it?" He let out a hoarse growl, intensifying the heat in my belly. "Do you still dare ask, princess?"

He sat down abruptly, his face mere inches from mine. At that instant, my breath grew heavier, and a shiver ran down my spine. His lips curved into a wicked smile, and that damn dimple appeared while his wild gaze never left mine.

"I love fucking you doggy style." Daemon confessed, lasciviously. "In this position, I can look at your delicious ass while you swallow me beautifully, my love."

Fuck! Son of a bitch!

I gasped loudly, my mind clouded with excitement once again and the heat rising in my stomach. Yet, this was a game we were both too skilled at, and neither of us liked to lose. I bit my lower lip to suppress a mischievous smile and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my full breasts against his bare chest. Daemon let out a soft moan at the contact and gripped my waist even tighter with his hands.

"And what will you do now, kepus?" I asked, in a slow, provocative tone. I traced kisses along his cheek, leaving a trail, and whispered with my mouth almost against his ear, "Are you going to fuck me doggy style again?" I intertwined my fingers in his hair and gave a sharp tug. He groaned roughly, and the sound made my smile widen. "Not going to say anything, uncle Daemon?"

At thirty-four days name, after six pregnancies and becoming the muña of eight children with very different personalities and temperaments, I felt at the peak of my feminine power, knowing how to seduce my experienced kepus, drenched in my self-love.

Although I hadn’t always felt this way.

After giving birth to Visenya and Helaena, I managed to return to my former body after several months of intense training. With the arrival of Aemon and Rhaelys, a year later, the extra pounds refused to leave, and it was the first time I had cried in Daemon’s arms because of it.

I loved my children deeply; I would die and kill for them. Yet, a part of me, perhaps a little selfish, mourned the loss of my former shape at sixteen days old and the lingering extra pounds.

As always, Daemon was a patient and amazing husband with me. He comforted me, listened attentively to my complaints, and spoke with me whenever I felt sad. Gradually, I began to see what he saw in me.

Daemon always praised me, telling me how beautiful I looked, more desirable as my belly grew with his child inside, how he loved getting lost in the new, mature curves of my body. Countless times, he whispered how my fuller breasts, round buttocks, and wide hips made him hard, throbbing with desire to claim me and fill me with his seed.

Daemon was a jealous and possessive man, who loved marking me with his touch and filling me with his seed.

And now, after spending a week at the Steps, he had claimed me several times and covered me in marks…

"Rhaenyra…" He hissed, his voice low and dangerously sensual. "You shouldn’t provoke me…"

Daemon was interrupted when someone began pounding loudly on the door to our chamber. He frowned and looked at me with curiosity.

It was an open secret to the Dragon Guards, the household staff, and our older children that the two of us would be locked away until late the next day, making up for a week apart. We had already had dinner and spent quality time with our younger children before retiring. It was no surprise that we were taking time just for ourselves.

Being interrupted at these moments was unusual.

"Muña? Kepa? Are you awake?" she called, knocking on the door again.

Immediately, I recognized the urgent voice of our second eldest daughter, Helaena. I jumped from Daemon’s lap and grabbed the first dress I could find, going to answer her in just a few seconds. I opened the door and was met with my daughter’s slightly serious face. I noticed she was wearing her nightgown inside out, her hair disheveled, and her lips pressed into a straight line.

Her fiancé hadn’t left?

"What’s wrong, my love?" I whispered, my heart racing. "Where is your Guard?" I asked when I noticed she was alone in the hallway. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, making her long silver strands dance around her, and fixed her purple eyes on my face.

"I asked him not to follow me, muña," she explained, and her purple gaze shifted to Daemon as he stopped at my side. "Kepa…" She looked back at me. "And muña, sorry to interrupt, but I need you to come with me to the main hall. Visenya and Aemon are arguing." An adorable grimace appeared on her pretty face.

I rolled my eyes while Daemon huffed.

"Again?" He muttered. "What’s the reason this time, daughter?"

Helaena laughed quietly.

"Apparently, Aem found Senya and Elys in one of Grandma Saera’s brothels."

I took a deep breath, already anticipating a new headache.

"Brothel?! What the hell was Rhaelys doing in a brothel with Visenya? She’s only fourteen days name And Visenya is already married!" He exclaimed, leaving the room and pulling me by the hand.

He furrowed his brows deeply, his eyes serious and his face slightly red. Helaena followed us silently, though she suppressed a laugh. Abruptly, I stopped walking and crossed my arms, staring at him seriously.

"What is it, my love?" He looked back at me.

Stomping my foot on the floor, I began tapping a finger on his chest and whispered threateningly:

"Daemon Targaryen, do not you dare give our fourth daughter a lecture just because she went to a brothel at fourteen days name." I raised my chin, challengingly. "At that same age, you were already rolling in the mud of Flea Bottom and even took Aemon to visit one of Grandma Saera’s pleasure houses. And about our first being married, we’ll hear what’s going on first, and she will sort things out with her own wife."

My husband’s eyes widened, staring at me in disbelief. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to suppress a mischievous smile.

Like me, Daemon would kill, die, and bring hell on earth for our children. He loved our seven girls and only boy equally and deeply, motivated all of them to fight for their own desires, and could hardly say “no” to any of their requests. Yet, he was more protective of our girls and feared so much that they might suffer just for not having a penis.

"Love?"

I averted my gaze to keep from laughing and took the hand of our second daughter, beginning to pull her down the hallway. Helaena smiled openly and shook her head, incredulously.

"You’ve been warned, Daemon Targaryen." I looked over my shoulder at him without stopping. He remained still, his brows raised and his gaze incredulous. "Try anything, and you’ll spend the rest of the week sleeping with Caraxes in the Dragon’s Pit."

Helaena burst out laughing.

♛

 

Chapter 33: Chapter 26.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

♛

Chapter 26.

“Finally, the time has come for the dragons to awaken and the true Targaryens to take what is rightfully theirs, Dragon Princess.”

Volantis, 131 A.C.

Voices raised and curses, both in High Valyrian and Common, echoed furiously throughout the Targaryen Fortress.

“You have no right to try to give us any kind of moral lesson, Aamon!” Visenya shouted, then laughed sarcastically. “Rhaelys and I shouldn’t be in a brothel?! What hypocrisy, brother! After all, you were there too!” There was a pause, and I could hear my son respond. “Fuck it, you’re a man and we’re both women!”

It was already past midnight, so almost none of the servants were wandering the halls, except for the Dragon Guards, who were at their posts and patrolling the property. My four youngest daughters were asleep, but they could wake up and leave their rooms to see what was happening. Feeling my blood heat with irritation, I narrowed my eyes and quickened my pace to finally reach the Great Hall. I could still hear my husband and Helaena following silently.

“What the hell is going on here?!” I exclaimed, my voice sharp as I burst through the doors of the main hall, confronting Daemon’s three children. They immediately fell silent and paled at the sight of me.

“Do you two think you’re still in some damn brothel to be screaming at each other like this?!” I crossed my arms and began stomping my foot. “Huh? Lost your tongues now, did you? Visenya? Aemon?”

None of the three opened their mouths to respond, not even Visenya or Aemon. They stared at me with wide eyes, while Rhaelys sniffled quietly, a few solitary tears streaking her flushed cheeks. The silence that followed grew even more tense. My irritation softened slightly, and my heart ached with anguish as Elys buried her face in her hands, crying and sobbing softly. Helaena went to her side and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“What’s wrong, my love?” I ran to them and pulled Rhaelys into a tight hug. She buried her face in my neck and cried harder against me. After kissing her forehead, I shot a pleading look at my husband, who had stopped beside us, and his arms enveloped us. Daemon looked as lost as I felt.

“Elys?” She shook her head when I tried to make her pull back a little.

Daemon’s expression darkened further, and he turned to Visenya and Aemon.

“Your mother asked a question and is still waiting for an answer.” Daemon reminded them in a firm, stern voice. My husband was extremely serious, eyebrows furrowed with irritation as he stared them down. “Just moments ago, you two, Visenya and Aemon, were arguing, but now you don’t want to answer my wife?” He continued, crossing his arms. “Also, why is Rhaelys crying?”

“Come here, Elys.” Hel whispered softly, pulling her into a hug.

Visenya averted her gaze, and Aemon stared at the floor, forehead wrinkled. Both seemed ashamed and determined to stay silent, even with us demanding an explanation. I let out a heavy sigh, ran my hand through my hair to push some strands back, and was hugged by Daemon again. I gave a weak smile to my husband and received a kiss on the temple.

“Is today the day you two will let me burn this unbearable human project and the piece of flying coal?” Tennebris’s excited question echoed in my mind, and judging by my daughter’s grimace, Visenya “heard” the same thing. I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing in a serious moment. “Seriously, no one is going to answer me?”

“Aemon?” He insisted, facing the continuous, uncomfortable silence in the hall. “Visenya?”

It wasn’t the first time Aemon and Visenya had argued. In fact, I had lost count of how many times they had faced off and bickered. When the older twins were almost two, our only son was born. Not long after, I unexpectedly became pregnant with Rhaelys, who arrived a moon after he completed his first nameday. In less than four years, Daemon and I were already parents to four beautiful little pests.

I don’t know how we haven’t gone insane with our eight children yet.

Of the four older children, Helaena was the calmest, kindest, and sweetest. My gentle girl had always been less mischievous than her siblings. From a very young age, she also learned to handle a sword and dagger to defend herself like they did, yet her greatest loves were insects, flowers, and painting. She and Senya were very close, and the eldest child wouldn’t allow anyone to whisper a single word of disrespect about her sister.

The twins were also very close to Rhaelys and Aemon.

Visenya and Aemon shared personalities much like Daemon’s and my own dubious sense of humor. And despite their arguments, our eldest daughter and our only son would kill and die for each other. Like Hel, Rhaelys, our fourth child, was sweeter, although she too inherited my husband’s rebellious spirit. And when it came to Elys, Senya nearly transformed into the embodiment of her dragon, Tennebris, ready to burn anyone who hurt her.

Fortunately, Daenna, Alyssa, Aemma, and Maelys would take some time before wanting to visit a brothel and making me pull my hair out.

“Muña, kepa, I’ll take Rhaelys to her room.” Hel was the first to break the tense silence. She was still holding her sister, rubbing her back. “Good night!”

“All right, my loves.” I smiled at them.

We hugged and kissed our daughters. With calm steps, Hel moved away with Rhaelys, whispering softly, while my little one shook her head, though she said nothing. Thankfully, Elys had stopped crying and was just sniffing quietly. My forced smile disappeared the moment I turned to the two little pests remaining in the hall with us.

“I found Visenya and Rhaelys unattended in one of Grandma Saera’s brothels.” Aemon finally spoke. I turned to look at him.

Virei-me para olhá-lo. He spoke in a low voice, staring fixedly at a point on the wall. Visenya narrowed her eyes, her cheeks beginning to flush with anger.

“They didn’t want to leave when I ordered it, after seeing a man blatantly flirting with Rhaelys.” He continued, his tone hard and furious.

Visenya let out a humorless laugh and crossed her arms. Her beautiful, delicate features twisted into a mask of anger mixed with coldness.

“Ordered? I didn’t know you were one of our parents now, Aemon, to tell me or Rhaelys what to do.” She retorted, smiling cynically. Aemon stared at her, lips pressed into a straight line. “And no, no one was blatantly flirting with my sister. But if they were? What would be the problem?” He tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “She’s a beautiful girl, and there’s nothing wrong with kissing some people.” He shrugged casually.

Aemon’s face turned red, and Visenya’s smile widened.

“Visenya…”

“What is it, brother?” She tossed her long hair to the side, staring at her own nails. “Just because you don’t see the amazing, captivating girl who lives under the same roof as you doesn’t mean others won’t notice her.” Her lilac gaze sparkled at him, and she turned serious. “Tonight, you and your ridiculous show managed to hurt my sister, you idiot.”

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Rhaelys was in love with Aemon, although no one ever said it out loud in front of her, fearing embarrassment or to avoid upsetting her since we had noticed her feelings. He, on the other hand, had confessed to Daemon and me that he had strong, secret feelings for our eldest daughter. Visenya had always had her eyes on her twin flame, Rhaena Strong, her wife.

They seemed to be living a strange love triangle without even realizing it.

“I know.” Aemon slumped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Visenya looked at his defeated figure while her own expression softened and she sighed loudly. “I’m sorry for the scene I caused at the brothel, Senya.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, brother. I wasn’t the one crying or hurt by your actions. You made me very angry with your idiocy.” She explained firmly, arms crossed and face furrowed again. “No one was flirting with Rhaelys, but if they were, it wasn’t your business. I was there to protect her if necessary.” Her gaze finally turned toward us. “I apologize for all of this, muña and kepa.”

Without letting go of me, Daemon shook his head. I held back a heavy sigh and received a kiss on the forehead from him in response. I smiled at him and turned my gaze back to our two children. Aemon remained seated, face in his hands, eyes lost on the floor. Visenya leaned against the wall, twisting the rings on her fingers.

“For now, everything’s fine, but what actually happened? Why was Elys crying when we arrived?” Daemon asked in a firm, stern tone, though no longer angry. “And why did you go to the brothel without telling us, Visenya?”

She lowered her head, still fidgeting with her rings.

“Rhaelys came into my room unexpectedly and asked Rhaena and me to take her to a brothel—after all, she’s already over fourteen. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone, just see what it was like and have a beer with the girls. I didn’t see a problem with her request, so I went with her after my wife refused. Rhaena didn’t want to go, but encouraged me to accompany Elys, muña.”

I shook my head, suppressing a small laugh at her desperate attempt to explain herself to me.

“Then continue, Visenya,” I said.

“Well, about not telling you…” Her cheeks flushed. “We all know how you and kepa get when we spend a few days apart.” Visenya made a grimace and shook her head, as if trying to erase an image from her mind.

Beside me, Daemon frowned and shifted uncomfortably. I pressed my lips together to avoid laughing. Our sex life was very active, but we always did it in our bedroom. Before the twins were born and started walking, we didn’t care much about the location, and it was thrilling to feel like we could be caught at any moment. However, there was no chance of continuing that with eight little pests roaming freely through the fortress and our property.

“Also, it’s easier to say no to a door for Rhaelys, so I went with her to accompany and protect her.” She looked at us and sighed audibly. Taking short, slightly shy steps, my heir approached us. “We only ordered two mugs of beer and sat at the brothel’s bar area, before Aemon showed up and made his ridiculous display of jealousy over Rhaelys.”

If we were in King’s Landing or anywhere else in Westeros, the fact that a princess visited a brothel would be an unprecedented scandal, tarnishing her honor for life. It wouldn’t matter if she remained a maiden or if her husband accompanied her. But if it were a prince? There would be no judgment; it would be seen as normal, after all, every man needs to relieve his needs.

In Volantis, we decided to raise our daughters and only son as equals, free and prepared to face the consequences of their own choices. There would never be different treatment regarding the sex they carried between their legs. We would never keep them locked in a gilded cage with the sweet, false promise of protection and safety, nor would we clip their wings. On the contrary, they were always encouraged to fly as high as they wished.

The choice to take them to a brothel came when the twins turned fourteen, and Daemon caught Visenya dragging Helaena to a brothel in the dead of night. They were curious about what happened in a house of pleasure and wanted to see for themselves.

They didn’t want to have sex, only to understand what they had secretly heard about.

After a discussion between the two of us, I became responsible for taking them to one of Grandma Saera’s brothels, which was safe, clean, and staffed by people we knew well enough. The three of us sat, ordered a beer, and they watched the girls with some clients. We stayed no longer than an hour before Hel yawned and called us to leave. When Aemon reached the same age as the twins, Daemon took him to the same brothel, and they did the same thing we did.

Banning them from knowing a brothel wouldn’t stop them from sneaking out at night and going on their own, so we decided accompanying them and having a frank conversation with each one when the time came was the best solution.

“Your sister and you shouldn’t have gone out without telling us, Visenya.” I reprimanded her and let out a heavy sigh. “It’s already late, and Rhaena must be worried about your delay, so go to sleep, daughter. But we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

She hugged us, wished us goodnight, and left the main hall looking a little downcast. I followed her with my eyes, feeling my chest tighten slightly. Visenya was already an adult woman, married for almost a year, a warrior princess and a knight of Tennebris, yet she and Helaena would always be my babies. In truth, in my motherly heart, none of my children would ever stop being my babies.

“It’s alright, my love,” Daemon whispered to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Finally, he turned to our son. “And what exactly did you do at the brothel that made your sister come back crying like that, Aemon?” he asked sharply.

I placed a hand on his chest, trying to comfort him. Like me, my husband never liked to scold any of our children, though he didn’t hesitate to be firm when necessary. I sighed again as my headache finally began to ease. Daemon’s hand slid down my back, his arm wrapping around my waist.

“Aemon, I asked you a question,” Kepus insisted, noting his lack of response.

A few seconds later, Aemon lifted his head and looked at us. My heart tightened further as I studied his face. He had a lost look, and his expression seemed desolate. I released Daemon to sit beside him and draped an arm over his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, muña,” he murmured, lowering his gaze again and resting his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry too, kepa.” His eyes shifted to Daemon, who sat on the other side and took his hand. “When I got to the brothel and saw a man with my sisters, I got very angry. At first, I thought he was hitting on both of them, but then I realized he was just talking animatedly with Rhaelys while Senya was simply paying attention to the conversation.”

When he fell silent again and stared at the floor, I exchanged a worried look with Daemon. Our son had the same explosive, impulsive temperament my husband had as a young prince of the Seven Kingdoms. He had told me so himself.

“And then what, Aemon?” I encouraged.

“Something in my head told me that bastard was flirting with Elys, so I didn’t think coherently after that and went after him.” His face flushed crimson with shame. “I punched him while Visenya tried to pull me off him and Rhaelys was yelling for me to stop. Between shouting and ordering them to leave, I ended up saying that they shouldn’t be in a brothel since they’re princesses and would be called whores by the people of Volantis.”

Daemon’s posture stiffened, and his expression hardened as Aemon finished recounting what happened at the brothel. He glared at our son, brows furrowed, lips pressed tight. I saw in my husband’s face how upset he was and how much he disapproved of Aemon’s violent actions and what he said to his own sisters. Even though we hadn’t liked Visenya and Rhaelys leaving without telling us, Aemon did something far worse.

“Aemon…” Daemon began, then stopped abruptly.

He rose from the chair, crossed his arms, and turned his back to the two of us. I just stared at the rigid back of my husband and ran my hand through my son’s hair. I, too, was disappointed and disapproved of what he had done.

“What you said and did…” Daemon shook his head. “Go to bed, and we’ll talk more tomorrow, because we’re all a little tense right now.”

Aemon shrank slightly but did as his father asked and stood up. He hugged me, wished me goodnight, and whispered another apology to both of us. Though my heart ached at his desolate state and regret, I couldn’t—nor did I want to—pretend everything was okay. He acted on impulse; yet nothing justified hitting someone without reason or offending his sisters.

“It’s alright, my love?” Daemon asked gently as he sat in the chair beside me, draping an arm over my shoulders and pulling me against his chest. I allowed myself to be enveloped by the pleasant, welcoming warmth of my husband. “Shall we sleep? Tomorrow, we’ll talk more with our three perfect older angels.” He chuckled softly.

I couldn’t help it and let out a small laugh as well.

“Unlikely that our children will be considered angels, Uncle,” I said, snuggling closer to him. “These pests are perfect at causing chaos, giving us gray hairs, and headaches.” I rolled my eyes and felt his chest vibrate along with his loud laughter. “But I wouldn’t change anything about them, and I love them with all my being.”

Daemon kissed my hair.

“I love these pests just the way they are too, my love.”

♛

The sun was already showing signs of beginning to slip behind the mountains, and night would soon fall over Volantis. Although the day had been very hot, the sea breeze and gusts of wind had cooled the temperature. The sky, which had been a beautiful sky blue, was now taking on a strong orange hue, with red in some areas and a bit of pink in others.

“Again, Senya!” Rhaelys called, rising from the dusty ground and brandishing her sword. My eldest daughter raised an eyebrow and smiled disdainfully. “Don’t look at me like that, we’re tied. One last round to break the tie, then we can go inside to shower and have dinner.”

Visenya attacked Elys, and the clashing of blades echoed across the training field. They were the only ones left on the field. Daemon had already gone to shower, Helaena had trained earlier, and Aemon had gone to the Dragon’s Pit to spend time with Balerion.

“Keep your stance and don’t lose your focus, Rhaelys!” Visenya instructed, dodging her sister’s strike and taking her down to the ground with a sudden sweep. “Surrender, little sister?” The tip of the sword hovered just a few inches from Rhaelys’ throat.

Rhaelys huffed loudly and pouted indignantly, finally surrendering. Senya laughed and helped her to her feet. After what happened at the brothel, the firstborn had become more protective and closer to the fourthborn.

The next day, Daemon and I spoke with the three of them separately. We scolded Aemon more than our girls. He tried to talk and apologize to Rhaelys; however, she was stubborn and determined not to forgive him so easily. Rhaelys could be quite resentful, difficult to win over again. Visenya, on the other hand, forgave him, although she wasn’t giving her brother much trust.

As we know them well, we would do nothing beyond observing the pests for the moment.

“Go take a shower, firstborn and fourthborn.” I said loudly to get their attention. The two of them looked at me immediately and smiled. They were covered in dust, sweaty, and their braids were messy. “Dhaerys, Alicent, and your cousins will be having dinner with us tonight.”

“All right, muña!” Rhaelys shouted, and after putting away their swords, she left, dragging Visenya into the fortress.

I chuckled softly and continued my leisurely walk. After passing some servants, the Dragon Guards at their posts, and crossing half the fortress, I finally reached my destination. Even before entering our private fortress garden, I could hear excited little screams and children’s voices. My lips curved into a smile, and a familiar warmth filled my heart as the sounds reached me.

The private garden had been built at Daemon’s request when the twins were a little over a year old. He wanted us to have a place hidden from everyone’s eyes, a space that radiated beauty, peace, and safety for quiet moments or when the children wanted to play freely. There—among the most beautiful, rare, and fragrant flowers—was where Helaena spent most of her day, sometimes embroidering, painting, or simply reading.

Countless times we had gone searching for insects with Hel for her collection.

“Muña!” The cheerful shout came with a huge smile as I entered the garden. She stood up awkwardly and forced her little legs to run quickly toward me, making her silver curls bounce. “Catch me, mommy, catch me!” she begged, stretching out her tiny arms.

I bent down and opened my arms just in time for Maelys to throw herself into me. She laughed loudly, wrapped her chubby arms around my neck, and planted a kiss on my cheek. I chuckled softly and sprinkled her flushed, sweaty face with more kisses from all the play.

“Hello, my love,” I hummed happily, burying my nose in her little neck, inhaling the baby scent she still carried. Maelys was our youngest at three years old, the last daughter we had decided to have. I chuckled softly and planted another kiss on her soft cheek as I noticed her shiver. “Are you playing a lot with your sisters?” I asked as I walked with her in my arms toward where my other daughters were.

Her face lit up with a huge smile, and she shook her head.

“Yes, muña.” Her amethyst eyes gleamed as she gestured animatedly with her arms. “We’re playing Warrior Princesses defeating the evil pirates.”

“Mommy!” Aemma, my second-to-last daughter, exclaimed and ran toward us. Like Maelys, she also had messy silver hair, a dirty dress, and a face streaked with dried mud. “Please, muña! Come see the pirates the warrior princesses captured!” Excitedly, she grabbed my hand and pulled us along.

Under the shade of a huge tree, one of the nannies had spread a large blanket with the remaining cakes and fruits on trays, along with some juice in pitchers. Various toys—cloth dolls, toy soldiers, blocks, and wooden dragons—were scattered across the green grass. A deep water-filled hole was not far from one of the red rose bushes.

“Princess!” Both nannies stood and bowed when I arrived. I smiled gently and adjusted Maelys more comfortably on my hip. “The little princesses are heading to their bath now.”

“But, already? Can we stay just a little longer, muña, please?” Alyssa asked, appearing at our side and pouting at me. Her heterochromatic eyes—one purple, one green—looked at me expectantly. The girl was the messiest of the four, her hair smeared with dried mud. “Pretty please, mommy! Just a little more.” She pressed her tiny hands together in front of her chest.

Aemma and Daenna joined their sister, striking the same pose with pleading eyes. I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing at Daemon’s daughters’ cheekiness. Still in my arms, Maelys let out a cute little giggle and rested her head on my shoulder.

“Please, Mommy!” Daenna joined her twin sister’s lament. She was the cleaner of the two, with her silver-gold curls more neatly arranged. “We promise not to take any hidden sweets from the kitchen.”

Alyssa widened her eyes and stared at her in horror. Aemma was in a similar state.

“Enna!” Lys scolded her, shooting me a furtive glance. Daenna smiled sheepishly as I swallowed back a laugh. It wasn’t like I didn’t already know about the little kitchen raids for sweets. “Muña, my sister is just playing.”

Daenna watched as Aemma stifled a giggle with her hand.

“I know.” I raised an eyebrow and suppressed an amused smile. “You can play for another fifteen minutes, then afterwards, you’ll pick up your toys and go for a bath without complaining. Understood?”

A chorus of “yes” echoed so loudly it seemed to resonate inside my head. Alyssa, Daenna, and Aemma ran toward the water hole. The twins tossed a few toy soldiers into the muddy water, while Aemma had a doll mounted on a wooden dragon and made them both fly high. She let out cute growls and tried to imitate the clicks that Caraxes made.

“The warrior princess and her fierce dragon Aegarax attack the enemies once again!” she exclaimed, plunging the doll and the dragon—carved to look like her own mount—toward the water hole. The twins screamed and clapped. “Aegarax and his rider burn the enemies!” A huge smile bloomed across her face.

“Vermithor and Silverwing appear on the horizon to burn and eliminate the rest of the enemy pirates!” Daenna stood and waved a bronze-colored wooden dragon above their heads. Alyssa grabbed the representation of Silverwing and let out cute growls too. “Dracarys, Vermithor!” she shouted in High Valyrian.

The three of them shouted together, and a joyful giggle came from right beside me. I smiled at Maelys.

“Don’t you want to join your sisters, my love?”

She looked at me, her little face tired, her eyes a bit droopy, and shook her head.

“I want to stay with you, muña.” Maelys yawned and rested her head back on my shoulder. “My sweet muña,” she whispered, pressing her little nose against my neck. “My mommy…” Yawning again.

I chuckled, rubbing her back, and turned to Lyla and Elina, the two nannies present.

“Girls, please put away whatever the girls didn’t finish and head inside to start preparing their baths.”

They watched, and Lyla asked,

“Should I ask someone to come here, or should one of us go back to help, my princess?”

I shook my head.

“No need, Lyla. I’ll take them inside myself in a little while.”

While they began gathering what was left of the girls’ snacks, I went to the iron bench to sit and keep an eye on them. Maelys snuggled closer to me as I settled onto the soft cushion and leaned back. I cradled my baby in my arms, wrapping her little body with one arm, and closed my eyes, listening to the girls laughing and chatting amongst themselves. A gentle breeze kissed my face, and a relaxed smile appeared on my lips.

“Muña?”

Her voice was as soft and refreshing as the wind. I opened my eyes and turned my head to find my second daughter. Helaena smiled, holding a bouquet of flowers in her arms, but her sweet gaze was fixed on the sleeping figure of Maelys in my lap. My own smile grew wider. However, suddenly, Hel seemed to enter a trance; her face went blank, and her eyes appeared to travel to another world.

“The old tower commands that the shadow of blood slay and burn the dragons.” The words, whispered in High Valyrian, escaped her lips automatically. “The Gods rise once more in favor of the true children of Old Valyria.”

My heart seemed to stop as Helaena’s words registered in my mind.

“Finally, the time has come for the dragons to awaken and the true Targaryens to take what is rightfully theirs, Dragon Princess.”

The whisper of the Goddess Syrax echoed in my mind after many years of silence.

♛

 

Notes:

The greens will attack our Targaryens, but they have no idea what awaits them.
Thank you, little dragons!

Chapter 34: Chapter 27.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!
Here’s another chapter, and a warning: it contains some explicit violence.
Enjoy your reading!

♛

Chapter 27.

“Awaken, children of Old Valyria.”

Volantis, 131 A.C.

The heavy door creaked loudly when Ser Bobby opened it, and I was instantly hit by the near‑unbearable stench of old filth mixed with fresh blood and human waste. Although I wrinkled my nose in disgust, I kept my face void of any feeling and my posture composed. I walked, the hem of my beautiful dress brushing against my leather boots, until I finally reached the bowels of the cell block beneath the Targaryen Fortress.

"Princesses!" Ser Luthor Largent, a huge man of notable physical strength, made a bow as he opened the iron door that led to the cells. "The Prince Commander already has our guests of honor in the special accommodations." A deadly, mocking smile crept across his face, hardened by a violent life.

Luthor Largent and many Golden Mantles who remained loyal to my husband had been dismissed from their posts years ago by King Viserys. At the time, Ser Luthor lost his captaincy to the incompetent Gwayne Hightower, the son of the fat leech from Oldtown. Daemon didn’t hesitate and offered service to his old comrades to protect our lands. Currently, they split their time protecting the Stepstones, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh.

"A splendid bit of news, my good friend." I gave him a brief smile and continued on my way.

The Dragon Guards straightened as soon as they noticed my presence and bowed. I nodded, but my gaze remained fixed on them.

"You have finally arrived, my passion." Daemon approached, smiling, and took my hand to place a kiss on the knuckle of each finger. "Rhaelys..." His gaze flicked toward her with curiosity and a slight frown, then returned to look at me. "Rhaenyra?" A subtle scowl appeared on his blood‑splattered face.

I offered a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand between my fingers. Our daughter remained quiet, her violet eyes merely gliding between her father and me. Daemon looked at her again and Rhaelys offered a small smile, which made him snort softly. Visenya disguised a laugh with a dry cough while Aemon looked more like a statue, unable to hide his intense stare at Elys.

"Our daughter asked to accompany me, so I allowed it, my love. She wants to learn like Senya and Aem." I whispered sweetly, resting my hand on his chest. "Hel is entertaining our other little ones with Rhaena and Alicent in the gardens." I kissed his cheek and Daemon grunted but agreed. "Now, husband, I would like to see our illustrious guests." I adopted a colder tone.

Daemon opened a predatory smile, exposing his even, white teeth. Strangely, it reminded me of a fierce, hungry dragon. In a way, it was arousing too. I had to lift an eyebrow gently when I finally took in my husband's physical state. He wore his hair short and tied at the nape, a few silver strands loose; his face, neck, and hands were stained with dried blood. He had already removed his leather vest and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

"Dhaerys and I were having a bit of fun with our guests while we waited for you, Nyra." He murmured when he noticed my analytical look. "The children are eager for a bit of fun as well." He glanced at Visenya and Aemon. Both wore inscrutable expressions and were silent. "But I saved the best for you, my passion." He offered me a hand, which I accepted immediately.

After long years of silence, the Goddess Syrax had broken her absolute quiet and the Valyrian Gods rose to aid us, the true children of Old Valyria.

As Helaena had foretold, the old tower ordered the bloody shadow to kill him and burn the dragons.

"Well, I hope I did not bring my dagger for nothing, after all." My smile mirrored his.

At my waist hung the Valyrian steel dagger Daemon had given me as a courtship gift years ago, when we were still at war on the Steps.

"Let us go." With a more serious expression, I looked at my daughter. "If this is too much for you, I want you to leave at once, Rhaelys." My tone left no room for argument.

She agreed.

"Yes, muña."

During the seventeen years I was away, I allowed myself to set aside the existence of King Viserys and his court of serpents. I focused my mind and spirit on myself, on Daemon, on our eight little ones, on our family, on maturing and making the lands we conquered more fruitful and valuable. I chose to live and be happy. Yet I never forgot what the Goddess Syrax had shown me of the other world, the fate that befell the Black Queen, or the promise made on my mother's deathbed.

Everything had been set aside until a few days ago.

"What a wonderful surprise we have here, husband. I am very excited and honored by the presence of this year's elected Triarchy." My tone sounded like a sweet and poisonous honey through the entrails of the cells, in High Valyrian. There, the stench of human waste mixed with sweat and fresh blood was even more intense. I gave a signal and Ser Luthor opened the rusted iron door. "You know, we've practically been neighbors for two decades and we've never had any problems with each other."

Daemon followed me, entering the cell in the company of Ser Luthor and Visenya. Rhaelys and Aemon stayed back, only watching what would happen next. Our four older children knew their parents well. They had already heard of the great reputation of the Rebel Prince that Daemon still carried, had seen me kill to defend us, and Visenya had even been with us when we conquered Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh more than five years ago, with fire and blood.

"Well, that's what I thought." I continued in the same tone as I sat in the only available chair and crossed one leg over the other.

Daemon stood at my side, his hand always resting on the hilt of Dark Sister. I drew the dagger sheathed at my waist and began to toy with the long, sharp blade, never taking my eyes off the three prisoners.

"You shouldn't have allied with that cunt Otto Hightower and tried to kill us."

The Triarchy, elected to rule Volantis in the year 131 A.C., had allied with Otto Hightower and allowed rats from Westeros to pass through the Black Walls as if they were guests of honor. The fat leech from Oldtown had hired high‑level assassins to set fire to the fortress where we live and ensure that none of us left alive. The current rulers did not hesitate to ally with the Hand of the King and, together, began to plot our downfall for good.

They tried and failed — so it was our turn to return the "favor."

Although we had not set foot in King's Landing for eighteen years, Canary Black was still the head of the spying network in Westeros and kept us informed of everything. We knew how the city in which we were born and raised was under the Greens' control. In Volantis, Dhaerys ran the Targaryen family's bordellos and had eyes and ears across the city. My aunt was shrewd and had learned much in the years beside Grandma Saera.

"Visenya." Daemon simply said her name.

My heir, as beautiful and fierce as her own kepa, stepped forward and ripped the gag from the mouths of the three men. Her expression showed no emotion beyond a cutting coldness; her lilac eyes gleamed wickedly and revealed a hunger for blood.

With a quick look at Aemon, I saw that my son felt the same. Rhaelys remained silent but attentive to everything, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

"You cannot treat us like this!" Benerro Qhaedar spat angrily.

His face was decorated with purple, greenish, and red bruises. One eye was very swollen, there were cuts, and he was missing two upper teeth — signs of the violence he'd suffered. Like him, the other two leaders of the Triarchy stood, their wrists tightly bound above their heads.

"You, you whore..." The shout died the instant the tip of the sword was pressed against his throat.

Visenya smiled a deadly smile at the man.

"You will speak politely to my lady, my mother, Princess Heir Rhaenyra Targaryen." She hissed and drove the sword's tip into his throat. The man's eyes widened and the smell of urine filled the air. "Understand?" she insisted. He shook his head frantically as Visenya stared at the other two men. "The same goes for you two, my good men."

"You heard my daughter, gentlemen." Daemon murmured coldly. His eyes did not leave the three men, taken by uncertainty and dread. "One single peep outside the answers my wife wants to hear, and your deaths will be far worse than those of the sons of bitches who tried to kill us."

I suppressed a satisfied smile.

"Thank you, husband, Visenya." I stood up abruptly and walked toward Benerro Qhaedar, Maeron Ygonys, and Varys Mhaross. "You really made a grave and deadly mistake allying yourselves with the snakes of Westeros." In a swift motion, I drove the Valyrian blade into the belly of the fattest and most hostile man, Benerro. The roar of pain filled the cells. "You will tell us everything we want to know," I whispered, looking at the other two, and I twisted the dagger cruelly. "Or you will die a very painful death."

They broke easily.

The bowels of the cells were filled with screams of pain, pleas for any mercy, promises of vast gold and power in Volantis, bones breaking, and fists pounding each face.

The rulers of the Triarchy opened their mouths and confessed everything.

Since they still kept all the letters exchanged with Otto hidden in the Malaquo mansion, Aunt Dhaerys, Ser Luthor, and a few Dragon Guards went to fetch them. It didn't take long for us to have in our hands the scrolls that initiated the contact between the Hand Lord and our three prisoners.

They quickly reached a mutual agreement.

Otto claimed we were a danger they should have eliminated long ago and wrote sweet, lying words about how we would place Volantis under our rule, as we had done with the Stepstones, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh. I had to laugh out loud when I read that part. If we truly wanted to take the city, we would have already done so and no one would have stopped us. Still, I had to admit that the old leech was a skilled manipulator and knew how to convince her pawns.

The Triarchy accepted Otto's deal for a few reasons.

They disliked us because we were from Westeros — Saera, Dhaerys, Daemon, and I. The four of us were pure Valyrians, true children of Old Valyria and lords of dragons; in their eyes, however, we were impure because of where we were born. Although our families had lived in peace for years in Volantis, they still saw us as a threat and feared our dragons. And finally, they wanted to take our lands and riches for themselves.

Otto Hightower and the Triarchy had two things in common: ignorance of the true scale of our power and the foolishness of believing they could defeat us with fire.

True dragons do not die by fire — we burn our enemies and whatever else is necessary.

"How?" Maeron Ygonys whispered, his voice weak and stammering. He couldn't open his eyes; they were so swollen, and all the fingers of his left hand were broken. "How... did... you know?" He let out a groan of pain and coughed up some blood.

Benerro Qhaedar looked dead after I cut his hands at the wrists.

At first, he tried to play brave and swore he would rape each of my daughters. Daemon wanted to kill him and I shared that desire; unfortunately, I had to restrain my husband. He calmed somewhat and felt satisfied when Dark Sister did what was necessary. The man screamed and writhed in his own pain while Ser Luthor began cauterizing the three cuts with a hot iron to stem the bleeding.

The smell of burning flesh still lingered in the filthy air around us.

When Daemon ordered Benerro's trousers lowered, Visenya remained unperturbed and watched calmly as the Dragon Guards carried out the orders. Before I could open my mouth, Aemon grabbed Rhaelys's arm and led her away. She followed immediately, without protest or a last backward glance.

And Varys Mhaross, the last member of the Triarchy, had fainted. His body was limp and he remained standing, his wrists tied above his head.

"If I told you the Valyrian Gods warned us and that one of my older daughters is a Dragon Dreamer, would you believe me?" Daemon asked, rhetorical, smiling with mockery and playing with my bloodied dagger. If there was one thing neither years nor fatherhood had taken from him, it was his talent for torture. "Ah, just kidding." He gave the man a slap of apparent camaraderie on the shoulder, and the man flinched in pain.

Visenya murmured something to Aunt Dhaerys, who nodded in response. They stood in the corner of the cell near the door, while I returned to my seat and Daemon remained a few paces from Maeron Ygonys. My husband was covered in blood; his hair disheveled with red strands; his face and hands equally stained. In truth, the three of us were not in any better or cleaner state than the kepa.

"Since we arrived in Volantis, we have built an extensive espionage network and, contrary to what you tried with us, your current servants work for us. I must admit you were discreet at first and none of our little birds knew anything." He sighed dramatically, shaking his head afterward.

Visenya laughed softly and I rolled my eyes.

"The kepa can be so theatrical, aunt." she whispered, still amused, to Dhaerys.

"The fact that each newly elected Triarchy moves into the same three mansions every year and remains there for the length of their rule helped us keep the same little birds infiltrated for so long, discreetly." Daemon wore a predatory smile; his eyes gained a familiar, wicked glint. "Those people you all call slaves and treat like filth under your shoes work for the true House of the Dragon."

"You made a great mistake when Bennero let the Westerosi rats into his mansion. In fact, everyone's fate was sealed when you answered that damned letter from Otto Hightower." A wicked smile began to form on my lips. "Isn't it ironic and funny how so many men tend to think with their lower head?" I let out a mock disappointed sigh. "Besides your mistakes, Saera Targaryen's girls are excellent listeners for their drunken clients."

Perhaps the fact that the current rulers of the Triarchy were allied with Otto and could cross the Black Walls as guests of honor had left the Bloody Shadow members overly relaxed—too comfortable for their own good in Volantis. One of the five assassins — who, according to Canary Black, were extremely cruel and violent in their massacres and also liked to rape beautiful girls by force — was so confident and drunk that he ended up boasting to some prostitutes in one of Saera's brothels.

The Bloody Shadow member cheerfully confessed that the Hand of the King in Westeros had hired them to burn the whore of the Heir to the Throne and our family of incestuous creatures.

From that moment, we doubled the number of Dragon Guards, increased the patrols, and waited for the imminent attack. Two days ago, the Bloody Shadow finally invaded the Targaryen Fortress. They came in through a less‑guarded point, deliberately left to facilitate their access, and tried to start a fire in the kitchen. During the torture sessions, they confessed they would kill Daemon and me while we slept and then go after our daughters, because they had heard they were beautiful.

"Awaken, children of Old Valyria."

The order from the Goddess Syrax, which pulled me instantly from a light sleep, was still fresh in my memory. When I sat up and looked to the side, Daemon had also woken, panting like I was. In that moment we knew it was the night of the attack — and we acted.

"O… w-what…" Maeron Ygonys abruptly cut himself off and began coughing up a large amount of blood. I raised an eyebrow as Daemon crossed his arms and huffed impatiently. It took a few minutes for the man to regain even a little breath before continuing, his voice nearly lifeless: "W-what… will you do with us?"

I rose from the chair and walked toward him.

"What will we do with all of you? What do you think, dear Maeron Ygonys?" I asked, in a falsely sweet and feignedly confused tone. Daemon laughed loudly, draping an arm over my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my temple. I winked at him and turned my gaze back to the man, opening a cruel smile. "You and your little friends will get to meet our dragons up close and personal."

The man began screaming, struggling and begging to be released. Daemon rolled his eyes, and I knew how he restrained himself from cutting off Maeron's head. I rested my hand on his chest and subtly shook my head.

"You are monsters!" he shouted, hoarse. Maeron wept desperately, continued struggling, and cursed us. I laughed at him. "Soulless monsters!"

Visenya’s cold, dark laughter filled the cell.

"Yes, we are monsters, Maeron Ygonys," she retorted, her lips curling into a morbid, cruel smile. "But the blame is all yours for awakening the monsters."

♛

By Daemon Targaryen.

Time and fatherhood had softened many things in me, the infamous Rebel Prince. Rhaenyra and our marriage had also taught me to better control my explosive, violent temper—the tendency to spill blood first and ask questions later. Over the eighteen years of marriage, she, my sweet and beautiful niece-wife, had never uttered a single word asking me to change any part of myself. On the contrary, the Heir to the Iron Throne loved me wholly, for my few qualities and endless flaws.

Rhaenyra never wished to clip my wings or stop me from flying; she had always been by my side, in both good and difficult times.

Lust, satisfaction, pride, and a thirst for cruel vengeance battled within me. Blood, thick and hot like Caraxes’ flames, coursed violently through my veins, calling me to sink Dark Sister into the throat of every bastard who planned to burn us that night. They intended to kill Nyra, Aemon, and me, violate our daughters, and set fire to the Targaryen Fortress with us inside.

Every member of the Bloody Shadow cried like a baby and begged for mercy while suffering torture at our hands.

And now, despite the strong call for violence and bloodshed, I would not interrupt her; I would merely continue to admire and intoxicate myself with the divine beauty of my twin flame. My wife had a show to put on and complete before heads rolled and the bastards burned in the flames of our dragons.

"Residents of Volantis, I ask for a bit of silence and patience, for I have words to speak and revelations to share with all." My wife’s voice was clear, steady, and confident, in High Valyrian.

Nyra stood atop a platform, right in the center of the Fishmonger’s Square. Around us, countless Dragon Guards stood for protection, and innumerable citizens of Volantis watched.

"Please, Ser Luthor, bring forth our prisoners." A brief smile passed her lips as she looked at me.

Rhaenyra wore a beautiful black dress embroidered with red and gold dragons, thick straps on the shoulders, and a voluminous skirt. I had braided the long silver strands of her hair myself and placed a few ruby-encrusted pins among the braids. As always, her delicate fingers were adorned with rings, the most beautiful being the Valyrian steel wedding band from our marriage. I, too, had never removed my wedding ring and took great pride in wearing it.

So how could I contain my lust when my passion was the image of the queen she was born to be?

"Kepa, please." Visenya, standing like the proud Princess Targaryen she was, grumbled in Common. Raising an eyebrow, I turned to my firstborn and looked at her with some curiosity. She huffed softly and wrinkled her delicate little nose, identical to her muña's. "I would love to have another sibling, but please, look at mommy like that only when we're alone."

I became genuinely more curious and confused by the direction of the conversation with my daughter. Beside her, Rhaelys let out a little giggle and looked at us amused, her cheeks flushed. Aemon only rolled his eyes and muttered something to himself. Once again, Helaena was in charge of entertaining my other little ones with the help of my good daughter Rhaena, at the Targaryen Fortress.

"Senya means you're looking at muña the way Caraxes looks at a succulent, irresistible piece of meat." Elys explained with giggles. Visenya covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head, agreeing with her sister. Aemon seemed even more horrified, though he remained silent. "And I would also love to have another little sister or brother, kepa."

I was speechless. Even though we were about to carry out an execution by dragonfire in a public square, my daughters were asking for another sibling. Really? A nervous laugh rose in my chest and got stuck in my throat. Nyra was right to call them pests.

"You..." Incredulous, I went quiet and began to massage the crease between my eyebrows. "Only the Valyrian Gods can help me with you two."

They laughed.

In the next moment, Luthor reappeared, leading the Dragon Guards who dragged our prisoners. At first, there was a hush. Everyone glanced at one another and turned their attention to us, the Targaryens, and then to the men in various stages of injury, ragged and filthy. Though the Fishmonger's Square was very foul, those near the stage could smell the feces and piss ingrained in them.

Finally, confused and curious whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

"Kneel, you bastard!" Luthor ordered, brusquely, when Maeron tried to stand and look at my wife. "Bow your heads, sons of bitches!"

The nearest onlookers stepped back and murmured among themselves. They might not understand everything Luthor spoke in Common, but they knew the huge man was not joking. I had to suppress a smile. The former Captain of the Golden Mantles was one of the most reliable men I had ever met and had become a great friend over the years.

"Now, damn it!" He shoved Maeron to the ground.

A familiar cry echoed from the sky and the thunderous beating of great wings startled the crowd.

"Just say the word and we will burn them all, Daemon." Caraxes' booming, irritable voice sounded through our bond. "We could turn Volantis into a new Doom of Valyria; we'll leave rubble and a trail of deaths."

Before I could answer, Syrax's furious cry tore through the clouds and her golden scales seemed to shine even brighter in the sunlight. My passion lifted her head and her red lips curved into a wide smile at the sight of her. Above our dragons, the huge, monstrous form of Tennebris circled.

"You know how Tenny is protective of both me and muña, kepa." Visenya whispered, staring at the distant figure of her grumpy dragon. "He's not happy at all about not being able to kill these sons of bitches — and he's very annoyed that only Caraxes and Syrax can be here right now." She shrugged.

I snorted softly.

"Your dragon needs limits, Visenya." I grumbled.

She shrugged again and replied:

"Tenny is a good boy, kepa."

"Good people of Volantis, I do not bring good news today." Rhaenyra proclaimed, her voice loud and commanding. She was in control and utterly powerful. "Five days ago, my family and I were attacked during the night, when members of a group of assassins from Westeros broke into my home to kill us and afterwards planned to set the Targaryen Fortress on fire. As everyone knows, no outsider passes through the Black Walls without the invitation of someone inside."

Nyra paused and turned to me. I contained an arrogant smile and took a few steps forward, standing beside my wife.

"As my wife said: these scoundrels managed to get in, and now we all would have been dead if it weren’t for our Dragon Guards." With my hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister, I gestured to some knights around us. These men were extremely loyal and fierce in defending my family from any danger. "After being captured, the members of the Bloody Shadow confessed that they had entered our city with the help of the currently elected Triarchy."

Shock rippled through the crowd and the whispers grew louder. Few people seemed undecided between believing us or thinking they were being deceived.

"Before my husband and I came to live here, Saera Targaryen arrived first and, a few years later, my aunt Dhaerys. We came seeking peace and so have lived here for eighteen long years." Nyra turned to Luthor. "Ser Luthor, please."

Luthor slid his arms under Maeron's armpits and hauled him upright roughly. He was the least injured of the Triarchy, so he could confess the crimes of them all. For my part, we would already have killed them and let the dragons eat them; but Nyra thought it safer to bring the story to the people of Volantis and let them witness the prisoners' execution. She said this would leave no doubt that we were not the villains this time.

"Confess the crimes committed by the rulers of the Triarchy and why you allied with the Westerosi assassins." I ordered, pressing the tip of Dark Sister to his throat.

As we commanded, Maeron told enough: he did not say it was Otto Hightower who initiated the contact, but he explained how someone powerful in Westeros contacted the Triarchy and, together, began to devise the plan to assassinate us.

"Burn them!" someone shouted, and another person threw a rotten tomato at Maeron.

"Yes!" a man further back agreed. "Burn them! Show these bastards who the true dragons are!"

Within seconds, almost everyone was shouting for us to burn them, hurling rotten vegetables, fish, and even stones at the prisoners. There was a small group of inhabitants — ambitious nobles — who had never liked my family's presence or our dragons. In general, however, they saw us as a strong protection and many paid for our services when needed.

Twelve years ago, pirates tried to invade Volantis to plunder and kill, but Dhaerys, Nyra, and I rose into the skies to burn the pirates and their ships. Since then, the Volantene people began to revere us as if we were their royalty.

"Burn them as they planned to do with House Dragon!"

Maeron began crying uncontrollably and tried to break free from Luthor's grasp. Benerro already looked dead, barely able to stay kneeling and paying little attention to what was happening around him.

Good. Very good.

I took immense pleasure in castrating him at the exact moment he finished speaking about raping each of my daughters — from Visenya and Helaena, at seventeen, to my little Maelys, just a bit over three years old. Nyra, the fierce and deadly muña‑dragon she was, was quick to cut his hands and punched him in the face. I wanted to kill him on the spot, but torturing him physically and psychologically proved more satisfying and prolonged.

Varys Mhaross remained silent, simply staring at the crowd, apparently resigned to his own death.

"Benerro Qhaedar, Maeron Ygonys, and Varys Mhaross, for ordering the attempted assassination and conspiring against the Targaryen Fortress..." Rhaenyra murmured as the people calmed slightly, making them watch her with expectation and anxiety. Her voice was a sweet, calm melody, though every word was laced with venom and bloody satisfaction. "You are condemned to death by dragonfire!"

The people began to cheer and clap as my wife turned, a small wicked smile on her lips, toward the members of the Bloody Shadow.

"You will be beheaded by my husband's sword, and your heads will be hung on the walls of the Targaryen Fortress to serve as an example of what happens to those who dare rise against the true House of the Dragon." Her cruel, shining gaze fixed on me. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine and a familiar heat consumed me. "Husband, could you do the honors, please?" Nyra asked with false sweetness.

Damn, woman!

"Please, no!" one of the Bloody Shadow bastards still had the breath to cry out. "No... I beg..." Tears streamed down his face.

The sound of a sharp slap rang out, and the same man fell to the dirt floor, crying in pain.

"Shut up, you bastard!" Luthor growled after giving him a kick to the ear.

Now, the Westerosi assassins were like training dummies — broken and tattered. Canary Black had warned us how they acted: they liked to rape young maidens and pretty girls while "working." Since they planned to do the same to my daughters, I devoted my time and torturing skills to harming them. No amount of broken bones, ripped‑off fingers, cuts, a cut tongue, or castration would erase the pain of their former victims; however, the Bloody Shadow would never make another victim.

"As you command, my love." I replied, feeling a wild, bloodthirsty thrill warm my blood. Caraxes let out another fierce roar and landed a few meters from the platform, followed by Syrax. Frightened, the people recoiled from the dragons. "Visenya? Aemon? Are you coming?" I looked over my shoulder.

My heir opened a huge smile and slowly drew her sword, followed by Aemon, whose control of his excitement was almost visible. My son was furious and nearly killed one of the scoundrels when he learned what they had planned for his sisters.

"Of course, Father." Visenya's look was cruel and eager. "Let's go, Aem."

Dark Sister bathed in the blood of three Bloody Shadow bastards. Visenya made a clean, swift cut on the fourth man, and his head fell to her knees. Aemon whispered a few words to the last man and used his dagger to slowly cut his throat. He died choking on his own blood.

"Caraxes." I whispered, a morbid delight burning inside me.

My dragon snapped its jaw, crawled to where the Triarchy knelt, and opened its enormous mouth to unleash a furious bellow. Syrax followed behind, growling softly, her light‑green eyes fixed on the target. Despite the explicit fear, the people seemed enthralled by the power and magnitude the two dragons exuded. Still flying above everyone, Tennebris roared and the furious sound echoed.

"Dracarys, Caraxes."

The flames of the Bloodworm mingled with Syrax's, engulfing what remained of the former Triarchy of Volantis.

♛

 

Notes:

So, that’s it, little dragons. See you!

Chapter 35: Interlude 4.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! How are you?🐉✨

In today’s chapter, we’ll take a little look at King’s Landing, where the ‘most beloved’ King will receive a very special visit.

Enjoy your reading!

♛

Interlude 4.

"Even though he died more than 20 years ago."

King's Landing, 131 A.D.

Eighteen long and melancholic years had passed since Viserys Targaryen last saw and spoke with his beloved eldest daughter — the last living piece of Aemma Arryn.
At first, when she chose to keep her marriage and left with her own uncle, the king was deeply hurt by her choices. Then came great anger, followed by profound disappointment that Rhaenyra was determined to stay by the side of such a vile, violent, and ambitious man as Daemon.

How could a man like Daemon Targaryen ever claim to love her?

He loved only himself, the violence, the monstrous beast he was — and as many women as he could conquer in a single night.

So how could a girl as intelligent as Rhaenyra not see beyond the false sweet words, the empty promises, and the truth hidden behind Daemon’s arrogant smile?

His little girl had gone blind so suddenly.

In 113 AC, Viserys locked himself away in his chambers for an entire week, allowing only Ser Harrold Westerling and his servants to enter. The Hand, the Small Council, not even his wife had the same permission. The king needed to reflect deeply on everything that had happened so suddenly.

Where had the little child gone — the one who used to love hearing him talk about the Valyrian model?

The girl who once pointed a sword at him and defended that dark-hearted man was certainly not his beloved daughter.

What had Daemon done to turn Rhaenyra so completely against him, her own father, while she stayed in that cursed war on the Stepstones?

That was the question Viserys asked himself throughout that entire week, and the lack of an answer left a taste of ashes in his mouth. As both her father and the king of the Seven Kingdoms, he had tried to make sense of so many things — and failed miserably at every single one. Many times, he wondered where he had gone wrong, how he had not seen Rhaenyra falling into his younger brother’s claws, and how Daemon was cruelly manipulating her, twisting his innocent little girl.

Viserys Targaryen — the puppet king? Or, better said, the fool king?

After a week of self-imposed isolation, Viserys burst out of his chambers, shouting orders to the winds and demanding that a royal ship be prepared. That very afternoon, he set sail for Dragonstone, caring little for the Hand’s objections or for the fact that Queen Hightower had gone into labor with her third child. No — the king’s mind was consumed only by thoughts of his heir and how he would bring her back to the safety of the Red Keep.

The dark cloud named Daemon still loomed over it all, but the king was willing to swallow his anger and the contempt he felt for the Rogue Prince if it meant bringing his only daughter back to her family.

 “Where is my daughter?! The Princess Heir?!” Those were the first words that burst from Viserys’s mouth the moment he stepped off the royal ship, after three days at sea, and climbed down from the carriage onto the main courtyard of Dragonstone Castle. “I demand to see her this instant!” he kept shouting, droplets of spit flying in nearly every direction. “Rhaenyra, I am here! Your father, the King of the Seven Kingdoms! Daemon, return my daughter to me!”

Maester Gerardys — may the Valyrian gods bless him forever — gave a perfect bow and offered a calm smile. Not even the knights, Dragonstone’s guards, or the Kingsguard expected such an unhinged reaction from the most powerful man in Westeros.

“Welcome to Dragonstone, Your Grace,” the gentle man murmured respectfully.
His face flushed red with fury and steaming, Viserys was about to shout again, but Maester Gerardys continued in the same soft, polite tone: “I’m afraid I don’t bring good news, my king.” He gestured toward the dark castle. “Princess Rhaenyra and her husband, Prince Daemon, departed two days ago — on the backs of their dragons — bound for the Free Cities.”

As Viserys paled and the entire world seemed to crumble upon his head, the gentle maester felt nothing but deep pride and happiness for his princess and her prince.

Rhaenyra’s sudden departure to the Free Cities broke Viserys’s heart and wounded him deeply. How could she have left like that? Back in King’s Landing, the king locked himself in his chambers for the second time and barely reacted when Otto informed him of the birth of his third son, Prince Aemond. Days later, anger toward Daemon and disappointment over Rhaenyra’s choices began to speak louder.

It was also then that the fat leech from Oldtown began whispering into the puppet king’s ear, trying to convince him to name her grandson, Baelon, as the new heir to the Iron Throne.

Viserys’s last hope of seeing his daughter again came when the wedding between Harwin Strong, heir to Harrenhal, and Lady Laena Velaryon, daughter of the Sea Serpent and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, was announced. He knew his daughter had great affection for and shared a beautiful friendship with Lady Laena; therefore, it was impossible for Rhaenyra not to attend her cousin’s wedding. Besides, the fact that the ceremony and festivities would take place at High Tide only strengthened the king’s certainty.

However, the unexpected happened: Viserys was unable to attend the wedding at High Tide. During the week leading up to the festivities, the king accidentally cut himself on the Iron Throne and suddenly took to bed. In nearly four decades of life, he had never felt so ill nor been so weakened. The worst part was that Grand Maester Mellos, the other maesters, and their acolytes could not properly diagnose or treat the fevers, headaches, body aches, vomiting, and nausea.

Rhaenyra and Daemon attended the wedding of her cousin, Laena, and Ser Harwin.

The couple was the very embodiment of the divine and enviable beauty of Old Valyria.

The dragon princess seemed to shine as brightly as the stars, the full moon, and the sun beside her husband. Her beautiful black gown, adorned with ruby accents and Myrish lace along the voluminous skirt, highlighted her belly of three moons’ time. By her side at all times, the warrior prince exuded possessiveness, protection, and profound happiness.

Still in 113 AC, Viserys remained bedridden and very weak, while Daemon and Rhaenyra celebrated their own happiness, the lives growing within her womb, and the union of two dearest friends.

That was also the first time Viserys saw her — the specter of his late wife, Aemma Arryn.

Now, in 131 AC, eighteen years later, new and unexpected news reached the royal family within the Red Keep.

“My beloved family, I bring excellent news to us all on this beautiful evening.” Viserys sounded genuinely cheerful and was the first to speak since the beginning of yet another dreadful family dinner. Everyone stopped eating and turned their attention toward him. “This morning, I received a letter from my beloved daughter, Rhaenyra — your elder sister.” His thin, cracked lips curved into a wide smile. “My heir is finally returning home — to us, my beloved ones.”

A deep and unsettling silence fell after the king’s words.

Otto looked as if he were about to die, his eyes slightly widened and his face pale as death. Queen Diana gripped her wine goblet tighter between her long, thin fingers, feeling anger begin to boil within her. They survived? How? It was the question father and daughter silently asked themselves. The Hand of the King had spent a vast amount of gold to hire and pay for the deadly services of the Bloodshadow. Moreover, the Triarchy of Volantis had been an extremely important ally, one that would ensure the success of the meticulously crafted plot.

“What wonderful news, my love.” Diana was the first to recover from her rage and clasped Viserys’s fat hand over the table. The king flashed a wide, yellow-toothed smile at her, which made the queen’s stomach twist in disgust. “I’m so glad to know our family will be complete again with our daughter’s arrival.” A falsely sweet smile spread across her lips. “Did Nyra say when she’ll be arriving?”

Viserys’s grin grew even wider, the deep lines around his eyes becoming more pronounced.

“In five months, my dear.” He continued without losing his excitement, not noticing the brief, worried and furious glance Diana and Otto exchanged. “My beloved daughter wrote that there are many things to be arranged, and that they’ll make the journey by ship. It’s a long way from Volantis to King’s Landing.”

Otto took a sip of wine to moisten his dry throat.

“Excellent news, Your Grace.” The fat leech’s tone was carefully calm and cheerful. “But did Princess Rhaenyra mention the reason for such a sudden return?” he speculated, offering a thin smile. “After all, it’s been eighteen years since her departure with Prince Daemon, the husband she chose so long ago.”

Instantly, Viserys’s joyful expression hardened into a sour scowl, and his eyes gleamed with anger.

“My heir needs no reason to return from the place she should never have left. King’s Landing is her home, and the Iron Throne is her seat once the Stranger comes to claim me.” Viserys snapped harshly. “And as for Rhaenyra’s marriage to Daemon, there’s nothing to be done but to accept it—and hope my brother has cared for her these past years.”

“Please, calm down, my love.” Diana intervened, squeezing his hand in hers. Viserys took a deep breath and a long sip of wine. “Father misspoke, that’s all. He only fears that Prince Daemon may have grown more greedy after what happened with Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh.”

“Yes, yes, my daughter speaks the truth.” Otto quickly agreed, offering a smile of apology as he bowed his head respectfully. “I beg forgiveness for my poorly chosen words, Your Grace.”

“It’s all right, Otto.” Viserys sighed and finally turned to look at his six other children. He forced a smile. “Are you excited to meet your elder sister, my dears?”

Princes and princesses — almost all half-siblings of the princess heir — nodded their heads, though none dared to answer their father aloud. Of the six children Viserys and Diana had during their marriage, only Baelon and Aegon had ever met Rhaenyra, but they had been little more than infants and remembered nothing of her. Aemond, Alysanne, Maegelle, and Jaehaerys had all been born after the heir to the Iron Throne had left.

There were many whispers claiming that Princess Alysanne was, in truth, the daughter of Queen Diana and her sworn shield, Ser Criston Cole.

Over the years, they had only heard the king mourn the departure of his eldest daughter, telling stories of her childhood and of how she had gone to fight in the War for the Stepstones beside the Rogue Prince — and how, even now, she was still called the Dragon Princess.

“It’s good to know Nyra will be back.” Baelon, Diana’s eldest son, muttered, raising a goblet of wine. “May the heir to the throne, our uncle, and our nephews soon return to this beautiful and happy family!” He toasted, laughing loudly. “I just hope she’s still the Realm’s Delight, as everyone calls her, and not a hag like my wife.” He shot a hostile glance at the young woman beside him, who shrank in fear.

Viserys slammed his fist against the table.

“Baelon!” he roared furiously. “I demand respect for your sister and your wife!”

Diana merely sighed, and Otto cast a sharp, warning look toward his grandson.

“I only speak the truth, Your Grace,” Baelon retorted with a shrug, utterly unbothered.

Sitting in the most secluded corner of the table, Aemond, the one-eyed prince, watched in silence the exchange between his father, mother, grandfather, and eldest brother. While Baelon kept drinking and Viserys scolded him for his insolence, Aegon tightened his grip on his wife’s hand — Princess Alysanne’s — and exchanged a firm look with his brother, who nodded discreetly.

Later that night, the three brothers would meet to discuss the dinner — and what might come with the sudden return of Princess Rhaenyra, her husband, and their children.

♛

“Viserys…” The soft, feminine whisper sounded like an ancient song in High Valyrian. He could feel the warm, gentle touch on his hand, the rhythmic breath against his neck. “Wake up, my love.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you so much.”

Abruptly, he sat up on the enormous bed, his whole body covered in cold, sticky sweat. His breathing came heavy amid the intense, unsettling silence of his royal chambers, which would have been drowned in total darkness if not for the open windows. The full moon hung high in the sky, black as obsidian. On that cold night of howling winds, there was no sign of stars. Inside the luxurious room, all the candles and the fireplace had long gone out.

“Viserys… I love you so much, my love.”

The loving, feminine whisper seemed to sound to his right. With his heart pounding absurdly loud, he turned his head in that direction and found the spot — where two cushioned chairs and a small table with wine stood — completely empty. There was no one there, no woman. Almost without blinking, Viserys kept staring at the place, though he felt a deep fear of seeing her again.

“You used to say you loved me too, my love.” She cried out, her painful sobs filling the somber stillness. “Then why did you order them to cut me open?!” Her tone turned suddenly furious. “Because of you, King Viserys, my little girl saw me split open like an animal.” A dreadful, mournful moan echoed through the royal chambers. “My only surviving daughter… my sweet, precious Rhaenyra… you took me from her so cruelly.”

He didn’t need to turn around to know she was standing beside his bed, on the left. No, Viserys didn’t need to. He had already grown used to the stench of rotting flesh mixed with fresh blood, the oppressive chill in the air whenever she appeared, the distinctive sound of liquid dripping endlessly to the floor, and the invisible pressure squeezing his chest.

“Please… go away, Aemma.” He pleaded, his voice trembling and weak. King Viserys lay on his side and curled into a fetal position, his heart pounding violently in his chest. It didn’t matter how many times the late Queen Consort appeared — he was always terrified by her ghastly presence. “I… can’t take this anymore… please…”

Viserys closed his eyes and began to cry softly, begging the Valyrian Gods not to let him hallucinate about his dead wife again. Aemma laughed once more, tilting her head delicately to the side.

“Do you really think the Valyrian Gods would show mercy to you, Puppet King?” She mocked, making him curl tighter and pray harder. The constant dripping on the floor never stopped, and the smell of fresh blood grew stronger. “No, they never will. How could they, after all? You showed no mercy to me when you ordered them to cut me open while I begged them to stop.”

For the last eighteen years, he, King Viserys, had been receiving sudden visits from his beloved wife, Aemma Arryn, the late Queen Consort.

“You won’t even look at me, Viserys?” Aemma continued, her voice sounding sweetly dead. “I miss you so much, my love.”

Viserys felt his breath catch the moment the space beside him on the bed sank. Again, he didn’t need to turn to know she was lying behind him, her dead, hollow eyes fixed on him. He could almost feel the wet, cold touch of her small hand on his shoulder, the heavy breath brushing the hairs on the back of his neck. The King curled tighter and prayed harder to the Valyrian Gods.

“Has the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms lost the courage to face his beautiful, dead wife?” She laughed, a dark, ominous sound. “Look at me now, Viserys.”

King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, wished he had the strength to get up and run from the horrifying figure of Queen Consort Aemma Arryn. Yet whenever she appeared, all he could do was cry, beg forgiveness, plead for her to leave, and lament the past — the very choices he had made over twenty years ago.

“Please… Aemma… leave me alone…” He pleaded again.

The sound of dripping restarted on the right side of the bed, very close to his head. She was no longer lying behind his back.

“Ah, my love…” Aemma ran her long, damp, and cold fingers along his tear-soaked cheek. Viserys swallowed hard, feeling his heart jolt in his chest and his body tremble even more with fear. “You abandoned me, your brother, and our daughter in favor of the Hightowers. But as your wife, I promise never to abandon you, husband.” Lips as cold as death itself touched his forehead. “Even if I’ve been dead for more than twenty years.”

The stench of rotting flesh mixed with fresh blood was so unbearable that Viserys opened his eyes without realizing it — and regretted it immediately.

“Aemma?” He widened his eyes, horrified.

Standing just a few steps from the bed was the woman he had once sworn was the love of his life. The Queen Consort tilted her head slightly to the side, and the long hair — which had once been a beautiful silver mantle, but was now a tangled mass of wet, crimson-stained strands — followed the motion smoothly. Her deathly pale face lit up with a wide, mocking smile, and she fixed her hollow gaze on his face.

“Aemma…” Viserys’s breathing grew erratic as his mind was consumed more and more by fear. “Please…”

Where once there had been a lovely pair of violet-blue eyes, there were now only two hollow, pitch-black sockets. Unable to look at her face any longer, Viserys lowered his gaze — and immediately regretted it. Aemma was wearing the same nightgown from the day of childbirth. The garment, completely soaked in blood, was torn down the front, exposing how her belly had been brutally cut open — from just above her sex to a few fingers below the space between her breasts.

“No! No! Not this again!”

He wailed as terror and regret twisted inside his gut.

“Hello, my love!”

From the torn, bulging womb projected the silver, blood-covered head of a baby. Baelon. From that same gash came the constant dripping of blood falling endlessly to the floor.

“No!” His scream filled the King’s Wing.

Outside, since the two Kingsguard — Ser Harrold and Ser Erryk — had long grown used to hearing King Viserys talking to himself and shouting during the night, they didn’t move nor bother to check when the noises began again.

♛

Volantis, 131 A.C.

Rhaena Targaryen let out a sigh of exhaustion mixed with relief as she finally stepped into the chambers she shared with her wife and closed the door behind her. The day had been long and tiring, spent helping Helaena care for her little good-sisters. In truth, the past two weeks had turned into a whirlwind of anxiety and stress that felt as if it would never end.

Now, however, the dark shadow of fear and uncertainty that had hung over their great family had been banished that very afternoon.

“My love?” The beautiful girl, her dark-brown curls streaked with silvery strands and her skin rich and deep as polished onyx, called out softly after walking through the solar and finding it empty. “Visenya?” Her delicate dark brows furrowed above her violet eyes as she scanned the room, not finding her wife anywhere. “Senya?” She began to move toward the bathing chamber.

Her good parents, Aemon and Rhaelys, had already returned from Fisherman’s Square, so surely Visenya would be back at the Targaryen Fortress as well. Besides, Morning — her lovely pink-scaled dragon — had told her that Tennebris was much calmer now, though still sulking after being left out of the execution. Syrax and Caraxes had burned the Triarchy and the bodies of the Bloodshadow to ash. The God of Darkness was still infamous for his foul temper and constant irritation with the Blood Wyrm.

And to think Morning, Tennebris’s mated companion, was one of the two first eggs Syrax had ever laid — and Caraxes was her father…

“Love, fina...” The words died in Rhaena’s throat the moment she saw the small figure of Visenya. Humming softly, her beautiful wife was bathing absentmindedly in the copper tub. “Visenya?” she murmured, her steps slow and hesitant.

At once, Visenya turned her head to meet her gaze and offered a wide, radiant smile. Her lilac eyes sparkled with joy.

“Ñuha jorraelagon!” Visenya greeted her in High Valyrian, making Rhaena’s poor, love-struck heart race wildly. “Come, Rhae, join me!” She extended a small, wet hand toward her.

Within seconds, the dress had fallen to the floor, and Rhaena was joining Visenya in the steaming water.

“I missed you, my love,” Rhaena whispered, pulling her wife into a kiss.

There was much to discuss — yet that night, they allowed themselves to rest, to breathe, and to lose themselves entirely in one another.

♛

 

 

Notes:

What did you think of Viserys’ little visit? It’s not Aemma’s ghost — it’s actually a spell Nyra cast to slowly drive him insane. Fair enough, right? So, little dragons, Visenya — Nyra and Dae’s heir — is a lesbian and married to another woman before the Valyrian Gods. And yes, we’ll have a reigning lesbian queen. See you soon!🐉🔥👑

Chapter 36: Chapter 28.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons! How are you?

I hope you’re well! Our true dragons are about to return to King’s Landing, but for now they are making plans.

Enjoy the read!

♛

Chapter 28.

"Unlike what Otto and Diana tried to do to us, we will truly kill them."

Volantis, 131 A.D.

There were no more tears left to shed and my dry eyes knew it. Yet at the same time the knot stuck in my throat, the suffocating tightness in my chest, and my mind still numb from the contents of the last letter that had come from King’s Landing made me want to break down and cry again.

Her loss still hurt deeply.

"Lisye is dead, Rhaenyra."

Daemon’s muffled whisper was still fresh in my memory. The pain of the loss lingered in my heart just as the thirst for vengeance to kill whoever took her from us did. Lisye, our maternal Black Canary, died when two of my husband’s brothels in King’s Landing were set on fire. Few of her girls and some clients managed to get out alive.

The "accident" happened three days after King Viserys received the letter stating our return to Westeros.

"Are you sure you should be returning to King’s Landing now?" Aunt Rhaenys asked carefully after a long silence. We were gathered in the council chamber of the Targaryen Fortress and Daemon had just revealed to the others our decision to return to Westeros. "The Greens are growing desperate and taking drastic measures against our family." Her tone grew tenser and more serious.

At last I tore my gaze from my nearly untouched wine cup and fixed my eyes on the woman who had become even more like a mother to me over the last eighteen years. There were few signs of change on the face, with delicate and fierce features, of Princess Rhaenys Targaryen—Velaryon.

"We will hunt them down, muña." I stated without any emotion. "We will do what the Greens do: we will go into the place they think is their home and take them down one by one. In the end, proud High Tower will be reduced to a heap of rubble and smoke." A small smile touched my lips. "Unlike what Otto and Diana tried with us, we will truly kill them."

Rhaenys sighed, shaking her head.

"I do not doubt Daemon and you, for I know the strength you are, my dear. But..." Her anxious look passed briefly over the faces of Rhaena, Visenya, Aemon and Rhaelys. Rhaenys had always treated my little pests as if they were truly her grandchildren. There had never been a distinction between Laena’s children, Laenor’s and mine. "At the same time I worry for all my grandchildren, Rhaenyra."

I felt my own anger and face soften drastically.

"I know and I understand you, Aunt Rhaenys. But if they had managed to kill us—all the Targaryens in Volantis—what would stop them from going after other families with dragonriders? High Tide has four riders, Harrenhal three, the North one, while King’s Landing has none." I moistened my lips. "I foresee that the dispute for the Iron Throne and the usurpation the Greens have planned for years could strike other families in the future."

Rhaenys’s eyes darkened and Laena choked. My cousin immediately looked at her eldest daughter, who sat beside her. Harwin and his other children remained in Harrenhal and Laena had come to Volantis as soon as she learned of the assassination attempt. Rhaena gave a comforting smile to her mother. To her right, Visenya remained with a serious expression, brows furrowed thoughtfully and arms crossed.

"Muña is right, Grandma Rhaenys." She glanced between the two of us before uncrossing her arms and placing a hand of Rhaena’s on the table. "Those damned Greens are confident and desperate to eliminate us in order to gain access to the damned Iron Throne..." Her lilac eyes turned as dark as Tennebris’s scales. "They must pay with their lives and they will not usurp mother’s right."

"No, we will not allow them to usurp our muña's throne." Rhaelys agreed with her sister. She sat to the right of her kepa and had been quiet since our meeting began. This was one of the rare occasions Elys wasn’t smiling and her face was a mask of seriousness. "We have many dragons, an army of former Unsullied, the Warrior Prince and the Dragon Princess on our side."

Rhaenys seemed a little more satisfied, though she still carried traces of worry in her eyes and a tense posture.

"Yes." I turned my gaze away from Rhaelys and offered a small smile to Aunt Rhaenys. "We will not plunge headlong into that nest of unprepared serpents or blind vengeance, muña."

"They also killed Black Canary," Daemon whispered suddenly, his voice sounding broken and furious. He stayed silent for a long time. I gazed at his face, hardened by pain and hatred, and my heart tightened even more. "Lisye was part of our family… She was almost a mother to me, too. I will avenge her death." He lowered his head, focusing his attention on our sleeping daughter in his arms.

I reached out and placed my hand on his thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. He lifted his head slightly and gave me a discreet, tear-filled look.

"We will, my love," I promised. The knot in my throat grew heavier. "Lisye Galekeep’s death will be avenged."

Lisye was more than the Black Canary, the mind behind the vast network of Targaryen spies and matron of Daemon’s brothels in King’s Landing — she was a piece of our family, which had grown so much over the years. She wasn’t a constant physical presence in our lives, but she always visited us whenever possible — at least every two years. Lisye met and grew emotional every time one of our hatchlings was introduced to her.

For Daemon, the bond between them was deeper and older. My husband had been just a young man when he was wounded in an ambush, and Caraxes landed in front of her cabin in a forest near Storm’s End. Somehow, the distrustful and fierce dragon knew the black-haired woman was a good soul and would care for his rider.

Since then, Daemon and Lisye had become good friends, though at times she acted like a mother to him, even if their age difference wasn’t that great.

"Thank you, my passion," he whispered, giving me a small smile. Then Daemon regained the posture of the Warrior Prince and cast a fierce look over every face in the room. "Currently, Amelly is the new Black Canary and has taken her mother’s position, but I asked her to remain in the shadows for a while."

I was about to speak when someone knocked softly on the door, and Daemon granted permission to enter. We knew it was one of our daughters, since the Dragon Guards hadn’t intervened. With a small smile, Helaena entered the Council chamber, her eyes scanning every face present. She walked toward us with shy steps and flushed cheeks.

"Hello!" Helaena greeted, blushing even more. Despite knowing everyone for years, our daughter could still get shy in a place with more people than usual. "Sorry to interrupt, muña, kepa." Her anxious gaze finally fell on Maelys, still asleep in Daemon’s arms, and instantly her body relaxed. "I figured she’d be asleep by now, so I came to get her."

Like Visenya, Aemon, and Rhaelys, Helaena had been invited to take part in the council that would anticipate our plans for returning to Westeros. She, however, was still very attached to her younger sisters and couldn’t stay away from them for too long after what had happened a few days earlier.

"You’re not interrupting anything, Hel," Daemon replied, and I nodded in agreement.

Maelys mumbled a little as she left the warmth of Daemon’s lap and went into Hel’s arms, but she kept sleeping peacefully. Helaena’s smile grew wider and her eyes shone lovingly as she cradled her sister against her chest. She bid us goodbye absentmindedly and didn’t even seem to notice that it was Aemon who had opened the door for them.

"What do we know that’s most important about the Royal Family so far?" Aeron, the eldest son of Dhaerys and Alicent, asked next. He was standing in the corner with his shoulder leaning against the wall and his arms crossed. "I believe Uncle Daemon and Aunt Nyra have some details about our lovely relatives in Westeros." A fierce smile spread across his face as his violet eyes fixed on us. "Or am I wrong?" He raised a reddish eyebrow.

Of the four children Dhaerys and Alicent had, all possessed violet eyes. Aeron and the twins, Saera and Daella, had Lili’s red curls streaked with a few silvery strands from my aunt. Only Maekar, the youngest, was born with a completely white head of hair, though his facial features resembled my friend’s.

"You offend me by suggesting I know nothing about our Westerosi family, nephew," my husband quipped, earning a few chuckles from the members of our council. I rolled my eyes with a smile. "My little birds always tell me one thing or another."

I rolled my eyes again.

"Husband, stop stalling them," I grumbled, feigning annoyance.

Daemon flashed that charming smile of his, the one that exposed his single damned dimple. He knew exactly how that affected me. Ignoring the flutter in my stomach, I continued:

"We all know that the King and his Hightower whore had six children, though neither of them cares about any of them. On the other hand, the Queen and her father devote attention to Baelon in their attempt to turn him into a prince worthy of wearing the Crown and sitting the Iron Throne." I sneered maliciously. "The boy himself has no remarkable talent besides his status as a Prince of the Blood and supposed firstborn son of the King."

When I was sixteen, Viserys was already father to Baelon and Aegon, yet he barely paid them any attention—or even seemed to remember they existed—except when parading them at feasts and court tournaments. Diana was just as negligent with her children. She was always too busy fabricating whispers about me and trying to undermine me with the help of her gossiping ladies-in-waiting.

It was impossible not to wonder why Viserys kept having children with his whore if he didn’t care about them.

"Of course, my passion, we can’t forget the birth of my brother’s fourth child with his whore," Daemon sang out cheerfully. "Princess Alysanne Targaryen. Curiously, she has dark brown hair and eyes—so different from her siblings’ fake Valyrian appearance."

I shot him a sideways glance and wasn’t surprised to find a wide grin on his face. Daemon had laughed himself breathless when we learned of Alysanne’s birth and how she resembled neither her parents nor her brothers. The girl didn’t even share her mother’s red hair or green eyes, though she had the same pale skin. Her dark hair and brown eyes, however, were strikingly similar to the Queen’s sworn shield, Criston Cole.

"My brother has reached a new level of being a tame cuckold, my passion," Daemon said between fits of laughter, his face flushed and his eyes watering. "Seven hells—King Viserys, First of His Name, First of the Horned!"

"Yes, of course, uncle." I gave him a serious look. "We must not forget about the girl."

My husband gave me a mischievous wink, his wide smile and good humor unwavering. Suppressing a small laugh, I turned my attention away from him and looked at Aunt Dhaerys, who raised an eyebrow at me. She had also been one of those who laughed heartily upon hearing about the birth and supposed bastardy of Princess Alysanne. Right now, my aunt was stifling a mischievous grin.

May the Valyrian Gods help me!

"The other children are neglected, and Aemond, the One-Eyed Prince, is the most violent of the siblings." I continued. "Due to his lack of an eye at birth, he was treated as filth and kept away from the court’s attention while growing up. Aegon and Alysanne fled to marry at Dragonstone a year ago. He was being forced to marry one of Borros’s daughters, and the girl to someone from Hightower."

"And the youngest ones? Baelon, mother?" Aemon furrowed his brow, tapping his fingers against the table, his deep purple eyes thoughtfully fixed on Rhaelys’s profile. Since the brothel incident, the two of them still weren’t speaking normally—only when necessary. "As the eldest, I assume he’s already married or betrothed to some noble maiden."

"The younger ones, Maegelle and Jaehaerys, are even more forgotten than the older siblings." Daemon made a grimace of disgust. "Baelon married the eldest daughter of that fool Jason Lannister. They have two girls, and both their eggs turned to stone in the cradle. In fact, none of Viserys’s new children have had a hatched egg or claimed a dragon." His white, straight teeth showed as he opened a predatory smile.

Of our eight children, Helaena, Aemon, Rhaelys, Aemma, and Maelys had their eggs hatch in the cradle. Visenya was claimed by Tennebris just hours after her birth. As for Alyssa and Daenna, Vermithor and Silverwing landed in Volantis the day before they were born.

The Valyrian Gods blessed us, and our little pests were all dragonriders.

Once, Daemon and I discussed what might have caused the Targaryens of King’s Landing to fail in hatching eggs or claiming any adult dragons. Our first conclusion was that Viserys’s Valyrian blood had been weakened when mixed with that of the Hightowers, thus causing the lack of dragons. However, Alicent still carries the blood of Oldtown, and all her children with Aunt Dhaerys became dragonriders.

Aeron and Meraxes.

Saera and Shrykos.

Daella and Morghul.

Maekar and Sunfyre.

Furthermore, the power of Valyrian blood was even more diluted with my Velaryon cousins. Laena and Harwin’s daughters were dragonriders. Rhaena’s egg hatched in her cradle, and Jocelyn claimed Grey Ghost after her egg turned to stone. Laenor and Elinda’s eldest sons—my former lady-in-waiting—had the same luck. Vermax was born almost at the same time as Jacaerys, and Tyraxes when Jadhe was turning one year old.

In the end, we realized it wasn’t diluted Valyrian blood that was losing its power and preventing Viserys’s new children from becoming dragonriders, but rather the Valyrian Gods themselves intervening to keep our enemies from growing stronger.

"Lili and I have decided not to hide our marriage or the origin of our children." Dhaerys paused and took a sip of her wine. "It’s high time everyone in Westeros remembered that the magic of Old Valyria, though diminished nowadays, still exists and is strong." She glanced at Aeron. "We also want them to remember that Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys were the mothers of Princess Maelys, without Aegon’s seed."

It was a serious and complicated decision they were making. King’s Landing was not like Volantis. In our current home, Dhaerys and Alicent hid nothing about being married and mothers of four children. In fact, many were impressed and curious to learn that the children had been conceived by the magic of our Gods and without the aid of a man’s seed. In Westeros, however, they would be seen as witches, unnatural creatures, and a demonic blasphemy in the eyes of the Faith of the Seven.

When Maelys Targaryen, Visenya’s daughter with Rhaenys, was born, everyone knew she had been brought by the blessing of the Valyrian Gods and the magic of Old Valyria.

"It will be a great scandal, sister." Daemon remarked thoughtfully before breaking into an animated, fierce smile. "I would love to cut off the head of anyone who dares speak against you, Alicent, and my nephews."

I placed a hand on my face and sighed. He looked at me and chuckled softly.

"Ah, husband..."

Daemon shrugged.

"I only speak the truth, my passion."

"I know that, my love."

"Until we wipe out the rats of the Red Keep and remove Viserys from the Throne to crown Rhaenyra as queen, my granddaughters’ marriages will have to remain in utmost secrecy." Rhaenys commented suddenly, drumming her fingers on the table. Her gaze fell on Visenya and Rhaena. "I don’t like it either, my dears, but the flock will side with the Hightowers if they learn the Heir to the future Queen is married to another woman."

In a sour mood, Visenya snorted and shook her head, reluctantly agreeing. Rhaena gave a sweet smile to my daughter and kissed her cheek. Senya softened her scowling expression and smiled at her wife.

"We’ve spoken about this before and you know it’s all right with me, my love." Rhaena whispered, not losing her smile.

Visenya sighed heavily.

"I know, my pearl. Still, it irritates me so much having to hide our marriage from a bunch of hypocrites. Also..." She paused as her face turned sour again. "Vultures will watch you and there will be marriage proposals for my hand, after all I’m the heir of the heir."

"I have no problem killing anyone who asks for my daughters’ hands in marriage." Daemon grumbled, a bit sulky. "At least, Jacaerys is worthy of my daughter Helaena."

The words from Daemon made our son subtly cast a quick, thoughtful glance at Rhaelys. She, in turn, lifted a single eyebrow slightly and then turned her face to the opposite side. He snorted, began tapping his fingers against his own thigh, and furrowed his brow at some thought that seemed to trouble his mind.

In silence, I wondered when Aemon would begin to notice his growing romantic feelings for Rhaelys.

He said he was still in love with Visenya, despite her being married and never having felt anything beyond brotherly feelings for him. Still, Daemon and I saw how our only son looked at our third girl, how jealousy gleamed in his eyes when any man or woman showed interest in Elys, or how he always seemed to want to look at her.

Aemon always gave a small smile when a blush bloomed on his sister’s cheeks for silly reasons — by the way she laughed brightly and made jokes, and even by the wild way she behaved behind Tessarion’s back.

"Baela and Annora are returning from the North," Aunt Dhaerys remarked, bringing me back to the present. I turned my head to face her. "At first, my eldest daughter will stay here in Volantis for protection while we’re away."

"Saera and I are thinking of going to the Stepstones, muña," Aeron furrowed his brow, thoughtful. "Since Daella will be going with you, mom, and Maekar to King’s Landing, I believe the two of us can patrol the islands without issue."

Dhaerys shook her head at him.

"Why this need for dragon protection on the Stepstones?" Laena asked, knitting her delicate brows. She cast confused, slightly anxious looks between us. "Do you think they might attack your lands while you’re away?" Her attention fell on her own daughter again.

"It’s a very small possibility, though not entirely nil, Lae," my aunt looked at her with a somewhat somber expression.

Laena seemed more perturbed by the thought and sent a third glance toward Rhaena. Aunt Rhaenys laid a hand on my cousin’s shoulder and gave a firm squeeze.

"The Hightower cunts allied with the Volantis Triarchy to kill us," Dhaerys continued. "What’s to stop them from trying a new alliance with those still angry at the Targaryens’ hold on the Stepstones, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh? From trying to seize them by force and death? My nephews will go to King’s Landing with their parents, and my children can patrol the islands in Daemon and Rhaenyra’s absence from the Free Cities."

It wasn’t just my husband, our little ones, and I that the Bloody Shadow had orders to assassinate. Dhaerys, Alicent, their children, Baela, and Lucera had been added to its list. They had come with us to the summit; however, the last letter the Triarchy received from Otto said the assassins were to eliminate the Fugitive Princess and any family she had in Volantis.

My great-aunt Saera and her descendants were to meet the same end.

"I think it’s a good plan for now," Daemon commented, thoughtful, and looked at me. I nodded in agreement. "Baela stays in Volantis; Aeron and Saera between the Stepstones, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh. I’ll order Luthor to return and begin fortifying security and patrols on the islands," he concluded in a tired tone.

The events of the past few weeks had taken a very exhausting, negative toll on my husband. We both worried and spent some sleepless nights, only thinking about how to act and defend our hatchlings. However, Daemon was driven to the brink of madness by the danger circling us and having to wait for the exact moment to act. He was a man of immediate action in the face of a problem, and the long wait, the uncertainty that stalked us, wore him down too much.

Now, despite the worst having passed and the bastards having been burned by our dragons, kepus was still under the effect of what we had endured.

"Well, I suppose we can end this first meeting for now." I murmured, standing up and moving away from Daemon’s direction. He offered me a tired smile when I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Or does anyone have anything else to say?"

My heir and her wife exchanged a brief look. Rhaena gave a small smile and placed her hand on Visenya’s cheek, which gained a strong, passionate glow in her eyes. Discreetly, I glanced at Aemon and noticed how he still seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"Muña and kepa, Rhae and I want to escort our ships that will depart for Westeros, since we’ll all be traveling on dragonback." Visenya faced us both. I felt Daemon grow tense under my touch, but he said nothing, and I waited for her to finish speaking. "Since it’ll be a permanent journey, I imagine our servants and guards will go with us. I don’t want them to face any risks during two months at sea."

The seconds seemed to start dragging. Daemon remained silent, only analyzing our daughter and daughter-in-law. Visenya’s face began to turn red, and uncertainty weighed on her shoulders. Rhaena’s eyes were slightly wide, and she seemed unwilling to turn toward her mother. Laena frowned, her gaze fixed on the eldest daughter.

Finally, I gave Daemon’s shoulder a firm squeeze. I didn’t quite know how I felt either, but it was a matter that could and would be discussed again in the next meeting.

"I... We..." He cleared his throat and sighed audibly. He, just like me, knew that our daughter was a free spirit and carried much of his rebellious personality. "I believe having Tennebris and Morning in the skies will scare any bastard who dares to get near our ships."

I ran my palm up his shoulder and tangled my fingers in his silky hair, gently caressing the back of his neck. I felt him relax under my touch immediately.

"Really, kepa?"

Visenya and Rhaena visibly lit up at the prospect.

"Yes, my loves." I smiled at them and could hear Laena huff softly. From the corner of my eye, I noticed when Aunt Rhaenys whispered something to her daughter. "But we’ll talk more about that later. Now, let’s relax a bit so we can have a family dinner later. Shall we, my love?"

"Of course, my passion."

We said our goodbyes to the family, left the council chamber, and headed to our chambers hand in hand. A tub filled with steaming water awaited us when we arrived. Daemon gave a weary sigh and a faint smile as I began to undress him.

"Already thinking of using your poor old husband’s body, my love?" he asked, his voice low and tired. I raised an eyebrow and knelt to take off his boots. "It’s incredible how I’m the only man in the world who can make the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms kneel before him."

I opened a sly, fully provocative smile. Without taking my eyes off his, I rose slowly and felt his stomach tighten beneath my fingertips. Heat and desire spread through me at once. Daemon began to breathe heavily, his dark brows knitting together, and a lascivious smile curved his slightly parted lips.

"What is it?" Tilting my head softly to the side, I undid his tunic and slid it off his magnificent body. Daemon said nothing, just kept staring at me intensely. "My love?" My fingers moved to loosen the laces of his black pants and pushed them down, leaving him completely naked. "Uncle Daemon?" I wet my lips slowly, a movement his eyes immediately caught.

His gaze carried a glint of lust and a dangerously dark tone. A shiver ran down my spine, and the heat in my core grew stronger.

"Rhaenyra..." His thick, hoarse tone sent another wave of wetness between my thighs. Watching his face filled with desire, I finally untied the strings of my dress and let it fall around my feet in a soft heap. "Fuck, my passion." he groaned lowly.

I was completely naked except for the thin panties that clung to my hips. The garment was something worn only in Volantis and had been introduced to me by Aunt Dhaerys.

"Catch me if you can, my poor old husband." I winked and dashed toward the bathing chamber.

I laughed and quickened my pace when I heard him chasing after me.

♛

 

Notes:

Oh, yes! The Greens will suffer in the end, and blood will be spilled. While Otto, Diana, and the other worms plot their coup, they have no idea of the storm they’re about to face.

Daemon and Nyra always on fire and screwing around... will the brood grow even more? Visenya and Rhaena? I LOVE MY PRECIOUS COUPLE! Aemon and Rhaelys will still be a couple, even though he’s still gonna be an asshole...

HELP!

See you, little dragons! 🔥🐉

Chapter 37: Chapter 29.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

♛

Chapter 29.

“Finally, we will claim what is rightfully ours."

Volantis, 131 A.D.

It was a somewhat bittersweet feeling to see how quickly each of my children was growing. While pride and happiness filled me as I watched them standing on their own feet and beginning to claim their own place in the world, a part of my heart also cried silently and feared what awaited them in the future.

Sometimes my mind wandered back to the past, reminding me of the dream I once had, where the Goddess Syrax showed me the life and the end that Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen from the other world, had faced. She lost her brown-eyed children in such tragic ways, a small child who watched her being burned alive by the Usurper’s dragon, she never knew that her youngest son had also survived, the miscarriage of her only girl, the death of her Golden Lady, and the sacrifice of her beloved husband.

The Black Queen died at thirty-three.

“They will be fine, my love.” Daemon promised, whispering tenderly, and kissed my temple. He kept one arm wrapped around me, his palm resting on my waist. “Tennebris and Morning will protect them from everything and everyone.” He looked at me briefly before turning forward again.

I, the Dragon Princess, had just turned thirty-four.

We were in the bustling Port of Volantis. We had already said our goodbyes to our daughters, and now we were waiting for them to board one of the ships that would take almost all our servants and dragon guards to King’s Landing. After another meeting of our Council, it was decided that Visenya and Rhaena would escort our vessels. It was a protective measure against the possibility of any pirate attack.

Would it be foolish for me to feel happy with the girls’ excitement, even while a part of me worried so much and feared that the worst could happen during those two months of sailing?

“I know, my love, it’s just…” I sighed, curling into his warmth and protection. “I can’t help worrying and missing them.” I rested my head on his shoulder and looked at our beautiful troublemakers.

“How could I not worry, Rhaenyra?” Munã questioned, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. That had been the day I climbed onto Syrax’s back, without a saddle, to stop my kepus from leaving. “No matter how old you are, my love, all mothers will always worry about their child.”

Visenya was half-embracing Helaena, who rested her forehead against her sister’s. The Dragon Twins, though keeping their eyes closed, whispered softly to each other. Rhaena and my other children stood a little farther away, giving them a moment of privacy.

“Worry and longing are feelings that never truly go away.” Aunt Dhaerys stopped beside us and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked at her in silence. “No matter how old our headaches become, a mother never stops worrying or missing her children when they are far from home.”

Dhaerys could have four hatchlings under her watch at this moment; however, her two eldest daughters had long since conquered the world on dragonback. Baela, the firstborn, married Annora, and since they chose not to have children, they traveled all the time.
Lucera married Lord Cregan Stark a few years ago and, since then, has lived in the North with her new family.

Lucera met Cregan when she accompanied Daemon and me to the North.

Despite never having set foot in King’s Landing, we visited the Vale a few times and decided to go farther on the map. At that time, we wanted to learn more about the loyal people of the North and about the Wall itself; after all, Aegon’s dream was real, and we had to stand united in the same cause. Viserys told me about the Song of Ice and Fire and claimed that everything was true. However, he himself, as King of the Seven Kingdoms, had done nothing to strengthen the Wall or the Night’s Watch.

If darkness and a long winter lay beyond the Wall, the right thing to do would be to equip and prepare them, right?

My husband and I invested gold from our own pockets to help the Night’s Watch, reinforce the Wall, and handle whatever maintenance the castles along the frontier needed. It was during that period that my cousin Lucera and young Lord Cregan grew close. It didn’t take long for love to blossom, and Lucy became the new Lady of Winterfell.

It could happen now, next year, or a century from now—the Great Winter would come eventually—but there was already Targaryen blood and a dragon in the North.

Fortunately, our little birds infiltrated in King’s Landing and the Red Keep claimed that King Viserys and the Hand of the King seemed to have no idea that a Targaryen was now the Lady of Winterfell and that a dragon was flying over the snow. The truth was that they paid no attention and did not care about the North, its wild lands, customs, people, and gods.

In a way, it was a blessing—after all, the fact that they despised them so much kept Lucera and Arrax hidden.

‘‘Our children are always trading barbs and fighting, but they also love and protect each other, as a true family always should.’’ Dhaerys commented to no one in particular. ‘‘It brings me a great deal of peace of mind.’’

‘‘I feel the same, sister.’’ Kepus agreed.

The relationship our children had was something Daemon and Dhaerys never had with Viserys. There were arguments, insults, and countless promises of dracarys, but love, affection, companionship, protection, and respect always spoke louder. On the other hand, fortunately, my husband and my tinya never lost that bond, even when they lived apart for a few years.

‘‘Munã! Kepa!’’ Suddenly, Visenya’s voice rang out. She came running toward us and didn’t hesitate to throw herself into our open arms. ‘‘Avy jorraelan.’’ She whispered, hiding her teary eyes.

‘‘Ñunha jorraelagon?’’ Swallowing my own tears, I smiled and pulled her into my arms. ‘‘Avy jorraelan.’’

Strong and familiar arms wrapped around us, making me relax and lean even closer against my husband’s chest.

‘‘Avy jorraelan, zaldrītsos.’’ Daemon whispered, kissing the top of our daughter’s head.

The sky looked like a beautiful blanket of sky-blue, with only a few clouds scattered across its immensity. The sun, proud and radiant, was at its peak at noon. The Summer Sea stretched until it vanished into the horizon, where it seemed to merge with the sky, with ships arriving and departing from Volantis from time to time.

A familiar cry made me lift my head, and a small smile formed on my lips.

“I will take care of them, my girl.” Tennebris’s whispered promise echoed through our bond.

In all his glory, with scales as black as darkness itself, Tennebris lazily circled above the Port of Volantis. At his side, performing a few smooth and agile acrobatics, Morning let out light, joyful cries for him, her mated companion, the God of Darkness. The sunlight seemed to make the beautiful dragon’s dark pink scales shine and reflect in a lighter shade than usual.

In all his glory and with scales as black as the night itself, Tennebris flew lazily in circles over the Port of Volantis. Beside him, doing gentle and agile acrobatics, Morning released soft, happy cries toward him, her mated companion, the God of Darkness. The sun’s rays seemed to make the beautiful she-dragon’s light-pink scales shine and reflect in a shade lighter than normal.

“Thank you, Tenny.”

At last, the five Targaryen ships began to set sail for Westeros, with the final destination being King’s Landing. Visenya and Rhaena stood at the back, hugging each other and waving at us. Following their riders, Tennebris and Morning flew above them. The two dragons let out cries of joy, diving through the air and playing with each other.

Syrax let out a roar and Caraxes whistled at his mate. They had also come to say farewell.

“They’ll be fine, love.” Daemon said, standing by my side with Aemma settled on his hip. Our daughter looked to the horizon and continued waving at her sister and sister-in-law. “After all, they are daughters of Old Valyria.” Smiling lovingly, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple.

Daemon was absolutely right, and that, somehow, finally brought a bit of the peace I needed—peace my mother’s heart had been begging for.

“You’re right, uncle.” I smiled softly and kissed Maelys’s soft hair. Our youngest daughter was in my arms, her forehead resting against the curve of my neck as she sucked her thumb. She was sleepy. “In truth, I should be more worried if someone dares to cross Visenya and Tennebris’s path.” I laughed quietly.

Daemon nodded, laughing as well.

“Absolutely, my love. Those two could make Balerion’s hell look like paradise.”

Surrounded by my husband and our seven little children, I watched Visenya and Rhaena’s ship disappear over the horizon.

♛

Stepstones, 131 A.C.

“No, papa! No, papa! Not Aemma!” Alyssa’s breathless shriek and laughter filled the beach. “Run, Enna! Daenna, careful! Papa dragon and his rider Aemma are almost catching you!” She stopped running for a moment and grabbed her twin sister’s hand, dragging her along right after.

Daenna’s eyes widened, and she let out a high-pitched squeal when Daemon, with our seventh daughter on his back, closed in on them. His wide smile showed his teeth, and his growls—his attempts to imitate Caraxes—made them run even faster along the stretch of black sand. Aemma clung to her kepa, her short legs and arms wrapped tight around him. Her face was red from laughing so hard.

“The great and fearsome dragon will barely catch the little princesses!” Daemon warned with a loud, ridiculous roar, never stopping his chase along the black sand. “Warrior Aemma Targaryen is about to capture her two prisoners!”

Hand in hand, Alyssa and Daenna kept forcing their short legs to go faster than their father’s. They panted and giggled, glancing back every now and then. The twins’ hair was a mess of knots, sand, and saltwater. Untangling their fine curls at bath time would be quite the challenge.

“Go, papa dragon!” Aemma’s explosive yell rang right near his ear. I saw my husband stumble in his own run and make a pained grimace. Little hatchling number 7 had impressive lungs. “Come on, come on, kepa!” she urged him to run again as she grabbed two of his hair strands and shook them like horse reins. “Dracarys, papa dragon!” Her laughter echoed across the beach.

The refreshing breeze from the Narrow Sea kissed my face and stirred the stray strands from my simple braid. Hearing their joyful screams and “ferocious” roars, I rested my head against the soft cushion, closed my eyes, and felt my body relax even more. Lying on top of me, Maelys was fast asleep and snoring lightly. She had gotten very tired after playing with her sisters, swimming with me, and using Daemon’s back as the saddle of a great and fearsome wicked dragon.

“Run, Lys!” Daenna shouted, followed by loud laughter. “Get up fast, sister.”

I heard Daemon’s deep laugh mixed with Aemma’s childish one.

“Get up fast?!” Alyssa protested, offended. “You’re not the one who fell face-first in the sand, Daenna Targaryen!”

I opened just one eye to find my twins not far from me. Alyssa furiously wiped her face with Daemon’s help, while Daenna tried to hold back her laughter and Aemma hid a wide smile behind her chubby little hands.

“There, Lys.” Daemon smiled. “You’re clean. Now, shall we rest a bit? The great and fearsome wicked dragon already has a backache from carrying warrior Aemma Targaryen.”

Aemma erupted in loud laughter.

“Papa dragon is old,” she whispered.

“Yes!” Alyssa and Daenna exclaimed together. “Papa dragon is old!”

He narrowed his eyes at the trio of little pests and flashed a wide smile that showed all his teeth, somehow reminding me of Caraxes. Daemon let out a loud growl, taking two steps toward them and making them take three steps back.

“Now papa dragon is old?” he questioned, voice deep and “evil.” Between giggles and wide eyes, they nodded. “Ah, you little pests! Old papa dragon will catch you!”

Their chorus of screams and laughter echoed across the beach.

It had been a moon since we arrived at the Stepstones with our children.

After so much tension in Volantis and the great anticipation of what awaited us in King’s Landing, we were in what could be called a family vacation. The two of us continued discussing and planning every step we would have to take to crush the heads of the snakes of Westeros, we tended to our islands, and we had regular meetings with Luthor Largent about security. But most of our time was spent giving our full attention to our little pests, to our dragons, and to ourselves as a couple.

Daemon kept calling me his little insatiable dragon.

Visenya and Rhaena were out at sea, and there were still three weeks left before they would reach King’s Landing. I missed my daughters dearly, and the worry eased with time. Besides Tennebris and Morning accompanying them, they were warriors and surrounded by loyal people, which made my mother’s heart feel calmer and more certain that nothing would go wrong.

As my husband said the day before their departure: I should be more worried about anyone who dared to cross Visenya and Tennebris’s path.

“Your daughters have exhausted me.” He remarked, his voice breathless and tired, throwing himself onto the lounge chair beside me. Raising an eyebrow, I opened my eyes to look at him. “Gods, how do those little pests have so much energy? It seems infinite.” He flashed a wide, amused smile in my direction. “And it’s all your fault, my love.”

I had to laugh at his nerve.

“I don’t recall you complaining about my apparently infinite energy when we’re having sex, husband.” I retorted in a whisper, only after making sure Maelys was still fast asleep against my chest. “Or maybe you’re simply getting too old, just like the girls said.” My lips curved into a mocking, provocative smile. “And you can’t keep up with your wife who’s twelve years younger, kepus.”

Daemon gave a crooked grin, making his single dimple stand out.

Ever since we left the castle and came to the beach, he had become a great temptation for my eyes, body, and mind. Now, Kepus was wearing only a pair of old, worn fabric pants, and his leather tunic and boots were beside my sandals. His wet hair was combed back, and a shorter strand kept falling onto his forehead, making him look even more handsome.

Daemon Targaryen would always be the famous and beautiful Rogue Prince.

“You shouldn’t provoke me like that, wife.” His answer came dangerously low and husky. His eyes darkened even more as they fell on my bare legs, exposed by the short dress. “Perhaps we should give our little pests a baby sister or brother, like they’ve been asking.”

I burst out laughing.

“Uncle, no more hatchlings.” I said and pointed at our baby. “She’s the last one. The next babies in our family will be our grandchildren.”

“I do love seeing you full with a baby and knowing I’m the one who put it there.” He pouted adorably, sticking out his lower lip in that charming way. I rolled my eyes without losing my good humor. “The idea of grandchildren makes me very happy too. But…” A lascivious smile stretched across his lips. “But we can practice later how to make babies, right?”

Daemon had always acted like a very possessive and jealous dragon with his mated partner; however, during all my pregnancies, he became even more territorial. He loved pointing out that I was his woman, his beautiful and delicious love, and that he was the father of each of my silver-haired, purple-eyed hatchlings.

And how could I complain when I felt just as possessive and loved having him that way?

“After you tell your daughters a bedtime story, I’ll be all yours.” I winked, making him take a deep breath.

Before he could say anything, heavy footsteps crushing the soft sand came our way. We turned our heads at the same time and found our fourth daughter approaching. Rhaelys wore an irritated expression, brows furrowed and lips pressed in a straight line. She was wearing her black leather riding outfit and looked like she had just returned from Lys. At dawn, she and Daella had flown to the island.

“Something happened to upset her.” I exchanged a worried glance with Daemon, and I saw our other girls building a sandcastle not far from us. My heart tightened the moment I noticed her red eyes. “Rhaelys, what happened?”

“No need to get up, muña.” She murmured when I tried to move left to make space for her. Rhaelys tossed her leather boots onto the sand and sat beside her father, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all fine.” As the words left her mouth, she stared at the ground and began twisting one of her rings.

Ah, she inherited that habit from me too, whenever she’s nervous…

I frowned slightly and exchanged a brief look of doubt with my husband before turning my attention back to her. Rhaelys seemed to avoid looking us in the eye, remaining withdrawn as she spun her ring around her finger. But I knew my girl far too well not to sense that something was wrong.

“My child?” Daemon called softly, his tone gentle and warm. Elys nodded to show she heard him. “Did you and Daella argue, by any chance?”

A brief moment of silence—broken only by the sound of the sea and the voices of our other daughters playing—was the only response we received. I tightened my hold around Maelys the moment I noticed a solitary tear fall from Rhaelys’s chin.

“Everything is fine between us.” Rhaelys whispered. Her voice was almost inaudible, yet strained and hurt. Still staring at the sea, she continued, “It was Aemon… again.” She let out a humorless laugh. “He saw Daella and me kissing in the Pit after we came back from Lys and threw an idiotic scene with our cousin.”

Daemon’s eyes darkened with anger and his posture grew tense. Beside him, Rhaelys seemed oblivious to the internal war raging within her father. Once again, Aemon had hurt his sister because of his own foolishness and blind jealousy.

“What did he do, my love?” I reached out and placed my hand on her knee. I tried to keep my voice as calm and soft as possible, though anger and disappointment were already settling inside my chest. Aemon had already been warned that this could not happen a second time. “Your kepa and I are always here to listen—whether it’s about a mistake, a victory, a defeat, or a heartbreak.”

The painful sniff she released made my eyes water as well. I hated that my children were fighting, yet I could never ignore Aemon’s foolish behavior. We had been more tolerant with him than we should have after the brothel incident, but now we would need firmer control—pulling a few strings if necessary. Our children were being raised to be free, and to understand that many actions have consequences, often unpleasant ones.

Aemon might be almost sixteen and nearing adulthood, but we would still reprimand him whenever needed.

“Little one?” Daemon murmured, and unexpectedly, she gave a small laugh. I eased a bit, though worry still lingered. “What is it, Elys?” He frowned, genuinely confused and curious. “Did I say something funny?”

Rhaelys wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, took a deep breath, and finally lifted her head to look at us. A sharp sting pierced my heart when I saw her slightly reddened eyes.

“You and mom always call us little one, kepa… even Senya and Hel, and they’re grown women.” She explained with a small shake of her head, amused. “We’re not children anymore.”

My husband gave a wide smile and kissed her messy hair.

“My angel, no matter how old you and your siblings get, you will always be our little ones.” He glanced at me. “Right, my love?”

I nodded, smiling softly.

“Right, my darling.”

A rosy blush bloomed across Rhaelys’s cheeks.

“Valyrian Gods have mercy!” she laughed with wide eyes. “Well…” She paused and wet her lips, her expression turning both melancholic and irritated. “When he found us kissing, Aemon yelled that we had no shame and someone could have seen us.”

My face burned with anger.

“He said that?” I repeated with a low growl. Daemon looked at me, clearly as displeased as I was. “My love, there is no shame in you kissing another woman while you are in our lands. Sadly, in King’s Landing… it’s a very different story.”

“I know, muña.” Her beautiful lilac eyes locked onto mine. “I just don’t understand how Aemon can say something so stupid and prejudiced to us when he never acted that way toward our aunts… or Visenya and Rhaena.”

Daemon’s face hardened even more.

“Don’t worry, little one number four. We will be having a talk with him.”

“It’s fine, kepa,” Rhaelys agreed, letting out a small laugh. “Daella told him to shut up, but when he kept talking, she punched him in the eye.”

Stunned, all I managed to do was blink slowly.

“My niece has the same hot dragon blood as her mother.” Daemon shrugged.

Oh, Valyrian Gods, help me.

♛

I let out a sigh of exhaustion and relief when I stepped into our bedroom and closed the door behind me. Since the room was quiet, I figured Daemon was still finishing putting our girls to bed. While he did that, I was in charge of talking to Aemon. It wasn’t easy, honestly.

“I thought you were with the girls, uncle,” I whispered when I found him reading near the fireplace. He immediately set the book aside and opened his arms to me, calling me into the comfort of his lap. “Our boy is a mess,” I confessed, tucking my head against his neck as he wrapped me in his embrace.

Daemon kissed my forehead while I focused on the calm rhythm of his heartbeat.

“What happened, my passion?”

I sighed and spoke barely above a breath:

“Aemon once again, in his own words, lost his mind when he saw Daella kissing Rhaelys. He couldn’t think rationally; he simply didn’t want them kissing, so he started yelling that it was shameful, that they shouldn’t be doing that.”

I felt Daemon’s whole body tense beneath mine and his breathing grow heavier. Even his hand, which had been gently caressing my back, froze.

“Our son thought it was just a brother’s jealousy for a sister, but I ended up telling him it was someone in love, someone who had already crossed the line, and Rhaelys was the one getting hurt.” I began to toy with the worn fabric of his old tunic. I truly felt like a whirlwind of emotions when it came to those two. “He went silent, and it seemed like my words brought some unexpected clarity to his confused mind.”

Daemon drew a deep breath, kissed my hair, and resumed caressing my back.

“Did you tell him Rhaelys doesn’t want to talk to him for a while?” His hand rose to my nape, and his calloused fingers began massaging the base of my neck. I relaxed a little as I answered with a weak “yes.” “In the end, everything will be fine, Nyra.”

“Aemon apologized to me and asked me to tell her he’s very sorry and regrets it. Love?” I pulled back to meet his eyes and swallowed around the thorny knot stuck in my throat. “I warned him that if he behaved like that again, whether here in Dragonstone or in King’s Landing, he’d be sent back here.”

Some tears slipped down silently as Daemon cupped my face in his rough hands and rested his forehead against mine. I curled my fingers into his tunic and began to cry softly, feeling a small ache in my heart.

“It feels like saying those words to him makes me no different from Viserys when he exiled you, uncle.”

“Of course not, Rhaenyra.” He denied it fiercely. I opened my eyes and met his serious expression. “Viserys was always a bastard and never had a truly valid reason when he exiled me. If the day ever comes when it’s necessary, we won’t be exiling our son. Aemon would have a valid justification to stay away from his sister for a while, and I’m certain he’d understand despite everything. He’s making mistakes with Rhaelys and acting in ways we disapprove of, yes, but he is still our good boy.”

I placed my hands over his wrists and asked with my voice still unsteady:

“Are you sure, Daemon?”

He smiled.

“Yes,” he murmured sincerely. “And unlike what Viserys was and did to us, you’re an incredible muña, Nyra.”

My eyes welled up again, though with a positive emotion this time.

“You’re an incredible kepa too, uncle.” I brushed my lips against his. “And actually, an incredible husband as well.”

He buried his hand in the hair at the back of my neck and pulled me into a fierce kiss.

♛

Dragonstone, 131 A.C.

The sky over Dragonstone was like a thick, heavy gray mantle. There was no sign of the sun or any trace of blue, only the promise of rain once night fell hours later. The sea was rough, and the waves crashed violently against the stretch of black sand, while the icy sea breeze struck the island with fierce force.

The smell of sulfur, smoke, salt, and dragon felt like the sensation of being home once again after a long time away.

Dragonstone would always be my true home and the place where I bound myself eternally to my twin flame.

My lips curved into a wide, satisfied smile when I spotted a great mound of golden and crimson-red scales. The two dragons slept peacefully on the beach, Caraxes’ long body wrapped around Syrax, and one scarlet wing shielding her from the howling wind that blew in from the sea. Through our bond, I felt how my Golden Lady was relaxed, content, and sleepy. One would never guess we were about to fly toward the nest of snakes in King’s Landing.

In a way, the peace she felt washed through me and quieted a bit of the violent wildness in my soul.

When I drew closer to them, the sound of my leather boots crushing against the sand caught Caraxes’ attention. He lifted his enormous triangular head to look at me with his yellow eyes and let out a soft purr.

“Hello, my handsome boy.” I greeted him sweetly. Immediately, my Golden Lady pulled her head out from beneath the scarlet wing and let out a happy cry when she saw me. “Hello to you as well, my love.” I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to her cheek.

Syrax’s warm breath enveloped me like a comforting and intensely warm embrace. The touch further calmed me and deepened that sense of peace. Through our bond, she sent an overwhelming wave of love and pride. Even smiling, a knot formed in my throat, and unshed tears burned behind my eyelids. Caraxes let out soft whistles and nudged my arm with his snout. I turned my head toward him and met his gaze without letting go of my lady.

“He’s asking if everything is all right with you, my girl.” Syrax explained as the Blood Wyrm continued studying me with his incredible, intelligent yellow eyes. “Caraxes worries that returning to King’s Landing may affect Daemon, our human hatchlings, and you.”

Caraxes let out a low rumble and nudged me again. Smiling at my husband’s dragon, I placed a hand on his overheated scales and stroked him. He released a series of happy clicks. Syrax snorted and tapped him gently with the tip of her golden tail, making him look at her instantly. I laughed aloud.

“I’m all right, Caraxes,” I assured him sincerely. “Daemon and our human hatchlings will be all right too.” I kissed his scaled face.

He blew a burst of warm air at me, making me laugh again.

“I see my dragon is trying to charm my wife,” Daemon’s amused, ironic voice sounded behind me. “Caraxes, keep your charm reserved for Syrax.”

Bloody Worm snorted and shot what could only be described as a disdainful look at his rider. Daemon laughed loudly.

“Relax, my grumpy boy, I’m only teasing you.”

I turned around, and my smile grew wider. Daemon was walking casually toward us with a roguish smile adorning his handsome features and a mischievous gleam in his purple eyes. As always, my husband was dressed entirely in black, though the highlight was the breastplate of his armor, decorated with dragon-scale details. Dark Sister rested at his hip, ready to be drawn in an instant if conflict arose.

“You finally arrived, uncle,” I murmured after looking him over from head to toe. His smile widened into something even more suggestive. Syrax snorted and shoved me in the back with her snout. “What?” I faced her.

If she could have rolled her eyes, she would have.

“This is not the moment for you to want to mate with your prince, Rhaenyra.”

Heat flooded my cheeks in a wave of utter embarrassment. Was I being that obvious? Daemon slipped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple.

“I want to know why you’re blushing and staring at Syrax in horror, my passion.”

I rushed to shake my head, making him laugh even more.

“No, kepus.” I frowned, turned to face him, and rested my hands on his armored chest. “Are the children ready? Is Maelys really going with Helaena on Moonfyre?”

The cold sea wind blew more strongly, sweeping a few strands of his hair aside. My own hair was tied in braids Daemon had woven and decorated with ruby-inlaid clips. I adored having these moments with him, when my husband and I shared the simple and meaningful ritual of braiding each other’s hair.

“You don’t need to worry about anything, love,” he whispered, cupping my face and pressing his forehead to mine. “The children and the dragons are already prepared for the journey, and Maelys will go with Helaena, and Venus will follow Moonfyre to King’s Landing.”

I clasped his wrists and closed my eyes, my heart beginning to race.

“Our last moments of peace are about to end, Daemon. Our return to King’s Landing will awaken the wrath and fear of the snakes in sheep’s clothing who crawl freely through the halls of the Red Keep.”

“I know, my passion.” He agreed. I opened my eyes and found a brilliant purple sea of devotion and love mere inches from my face. “We will rain fire upon those who tried to bring down the true House of the Dragon, and Dark Sister will feed on the blood of our enemies.” A dangerous and wild smile lit his face.

My lips curved into a matching smile.

“Finally, we will reclaim what is ours by right, my love.”

♛

 

Notes:

This is today’s chapter.

I hope you enjoyed it.

Ui ui YES, Daemyra and their babies are almost arriving in King’s Landing. The Greens have no idea what awaits them: FIRE AND BLOOD.

See you soon!🔥🐉

Chapter 38: Chapter 30.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

The true Dragons are back, and the Greens have no idea what is about to happen: fire and blood.

Enjoy your reading!

♛

Chapter 30.

"The rightful Heir to the Iron Throne is ready to claim what has always belonged to her."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

The Dragon Princess — Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess of Dragonstone, Rider of Syrax, bearer of the sword Fire Heart, Delight of the Realm and the first future Ruling Queen — had returned stronger, more powerful, arrogant and impetuous than ever, after long 18 years away from the lands of King’s Landing. Along with her and her Golden Lady came ten more dragons, some beasts already known and others never seen before.

This would be the first impression that my arrival on Syrax’s back and in the company of ten other dragons would cause in all the inhabitants of the Capital of the Realm, whether nobles or commoners.

The whispers of the return of the true dragons would run through every inch of all Westeros like fire in dry hay.

The thrill of flying on my lady’s back burned in my chest, made the dragon blood run violently in my veins and pushed my heart to gallop with more euphoria. My entire body vibrated with the magnificent and inexplicable freedom found only in the skies, riding between the clouds and feeling the sun bathing me. At the same time, the sharp and venomous claws of the desire for vengeance, the thirst for blood, fought to finally come to the surface, and a dracarys remained trapped on the tip of my tongue.

"Come closer, my love." My whisper was lost in the strong wind, yet I knew Syrax had heard me. The bond that united us as one, in mind and heart, had never been stronger. Returning to our old home had left us, dragon and rider, in perfect synchrony of thoughts and feelings. "Let’s show these leeches who the true Targaryens of the House of the Dragon are."

Syrax released a fierce and magnificent roar that echoed through the completely blue sky with a few clouds. The midday sun was high and reflected on the golden scales, making them look like molten gold.

"As you wish, my queen."

With an agile movement, Syrax turned her great body toward Aegon’s Hill, where the imposing Red Keep stood, and dived gracefully toward the ground.

"My good girl." My response sounded like a purr through our bond.

The grand structure, built by my ancestors, rose as the sign that it belonged to the greatest and most powerful House in all Westeros. My Throne was protected and hidden behind the red stones. The thought made my lips curve into a feral smile. I tightened my grip on the reins and pressed my legs around the saddle firmly. The wind whipped my face, carrying my long braids behind me, and buzzed in my ears.

Not far behind us, loud and familiar whistles made me aware that my husband was not very far, yet he would stay with our little ones and let us two have our moment of displaying power.

Daemon would have his moment later, after all.

Below us, the city stretched larger and more crowded with houses, shacks and buildings than I remembered. The sound of joyful shouts, clapping, cries of surprise and people calling me reached me despite the distance. I leaned a little to the right and my smile widened. The great euphoria, the powerful beating of wings and the cries of nine dragons in the skies made people begin to fill the streets, climb onto rooftops or any safe surface so they could look upward.

I stretched out an arm and waved to them, causing even more commotion.

My Golden Lady roared fiercely as we approached the Red Keep. Even from a distance, I could observe and delight in the moment the great outer courtyard began to fill with people. It was obvious how curious everyone would be about the commotion taking over the city. Soon, questions and confusion would begin over my and my family’s early return.

It didn’t take long for me to recognize the figure of King Viserys, the Hand of the King, Queen Hightower, Crispin Cole and some other Kingsguard.

Behold and admire the genuine power of your future Queen.

A few meters from the castle, Syrax descended lower in her flight toward the ground and passed with her claws nearly scraping the roof of the highest tower. She let out a thunderous and authoritative scream that seemed to reverberate through the entire castle and reach the city. I laughed loudly, feeling a wild joy and a burning satisfaction in my heart, which was racing from the excitement of our display. Now, more slowly, the Golden Lady circled the Red Keep, and the movement allowed me to briefly examine the royal family.

Looking as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes, Viserys remained frozen and leaned on a golden cane. His eyes were comically wide and his face was a deep mask of shock. At his side, the whore Queen looked deathly pale, the ugly green dress making her white skin stand out even more; and the fat leech of Oldtown had a red face and clenched fists at her sides. The Dornish dog was like a closed book, free of any reaction, although I could feel the intensity of his dark eyes fixed on me.

With a sly smile, I waved and blew them a kiss from my hand before asking Syrax to take us to the Dragonpit.

"Is there room for more dragons in this display, my ladies?" The sudden mocking question from Tennebris filled my mind and my heart raced in response. I turned my head, with Syrax still lazily flying over the city, and opened a wide smile when I spotted Visenya on the back of the God of Darkness. "We missed you." He paused, beginning to beat his majestic black wings more slowly. "It is very good to see you again, my girl."

My eyes filled with tears and I became unable to answer him immediately. I could only push toward him, through the bond we had shared for more than 18 years, love, happiness and relief for everyone’s safe return. Tennebris sent the same feelings back. Visenya, my dear and so brave girl, released the reins, raised her arms high and began to shout joyfully.

"Muña!" She waved her arms and made her cries sound above the strong wind and the constant beating of the wings of eleven dragons. "Kepa! We arrived!" Visenya’s smile was wide and joyful. Caraxes, with Daemon on his back, burst into delighted whistles as he approached. "We are all fine!" She pointed at her wife, who was flying a little below them. "Just a bit messy-haired!" She laughed.

Syrax screamed as soon as she saw Morning, who carried Rhaena on her back. My Golden Lady flew toward the dragon with light-pink scales and began circling her, releasing happy and gentle gurgles. We two, dragon and rider, shared the same feelings: happiness and relief that our children had returned without problems.

Caraxes, releasing a series of soft clicks, began flying around them.

"Welcome back!" I answered loudly, forcing my emotional voice to rise above the wind and the constant beating of the dragons’ wings. "I am very happy to see you."

Daemon smiled broadly at our girls and murmured that he was glad for their return, before turning his bright and wild eyes to me. During the flight, the wind had tousled his hair and now the silver strands were loose around his face. Whenever they were in the air, on their dragons’ backs, the aura that warned how dangerous and powerful the Rogue Prince was seemed to increase considerably.

Not that it was bad in my eyes. Not at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He became deliciously more attractive and awakened the possessive dragon that existed inside me.

So delicious, my husband.

I had to hold back a deep sigh at the same time Daemon’s lips curved into a wide, roguish smile, which put that damned and unique dimple on display.

"Let’s head to the ground!" Daemon, without losing the smile, gestured toward Rhaenys Hill, the place where the Dragonpit was located.

On that day, in 131 A.C., I was certain that my name would be eternally marked in the stories of the House of the Dragon. No matter how much time passed, the name Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Dragon Princess, would remain engraved. Not only mine, but that of my beloved uncle-husband, Daemon Targaryen, the Warrior Prince, would never be forgotten either. My little ones would find their own paths and write their own stories, though they would also be remembered as the Targaryens of the Dragon Reign.

"Go, Tenny!" Visenya shouted excitedly, and guided her dragon toward the ground. Tennebris dived into the air without hesitation and her long hair looked like a silver cloak being carried back by the wind. "We’ll land before everyone!"

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen-Velaryon, Lady of High Tide, my dear muña, had told how the people of King’s Landing — whether common folk, nobles who lived in the Red Keep, King Viserys and his family — only ever saw a dragon when she appeared in her rare visits to the city, on Meleys’ back. Since Daemon and I had left with Syrax, Caraxes and Tennebris, the sky of the Capital of the Realm had no longer been visited by a beautiful and deadly fire-breathing beast.

After Laena married Harwin Strong, still in 113 A.C., they moved to Harrenhal and Vhagar accompanied her rider. They came to the Capital at first in short and sporadic visits to see Lord Lyonel, however, they stopped after the birth of Jocelyn, the couple’s second daughter.

Laenor never liked King’s Landing, nor being present at Court and being the target of venomous whispers. Many implicitly commented on my cousin’s preference for men and that made him want to stay as far away as possible. After he married Elinda Massey, he, his wife and Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, the Velaryon couple’s lover, remained at High Tide. So, Seasmoke would not be seen far from his rider.

Now, however, eleven dragons populated and colored the sky of the Capital of the Seven Kingdoms.

Syrax, Caraxes, Tennebris, Moonfyre, Morning, Balerion, Tessarion, Vermithor, Silverwing, Aegarax and Vênux.

My eyebrows furrowed slightly and I pressed my lips into a straight line as Syrax prepared to land in the Pit. The joy of seeing Visenya, Rhaena, Tennebris and Morning began to be consumed and erased by the anger at the imminent arrival of one particular Kingsguard. Crispin Cole, the Dornish dog of Queen Hightower. Two royal carriages and White Cloaks on their horses were climbing Rhaenys Hill to meet us and take us to the Red Keep.

Syrax and Caraxes landed at the same time, causing the ground to tremble, and raised a cloud of dust.

The two dragons were on alert and ready to attack at the slightest sign of danger. The mix of anger and distrust emanated from my Golden Lady and wrapped around me as if it were her own flames. I myself struggled a bit to control my temper and not let a barrage of fire engulf the knights loyal to the damn Greens. It wasn’t the right time, after all. After taking a deep breath, I emptied my expression of any emotion and assumed a posture of pure arrogance.

My hand resting on the hilt of Fire Heart gave me some shred of calm and control.

"We can still burn all those sons of bitches, my princess." Tennebris suggested. He and my daughter were still in the sky, circling with my other little ones and their mounts. "My little girl agrees with me."

I rolled my eyes and grumbled through our bond:

"Don’t even start, Tennebris."

At my side, Daemon looked more like a human version of the Blood Wyrm.

Still seated on Caraxes’ saddle, my husband maintained an imposing posture and a face free of any emotion other than the arrogance and disdain the famous Rogue Prince always carried. His violet eyes glowed dangerously and analyzed everything around us with extreme attention. Fastened to his waist, Dark Sister was easy to draw and would be ready to be fed someone’s blood at any moment.

Unlike the calm Daemon exuded, Caraxes himself was more agitated and fiercer than usual. He emitted small hissing growls, kept a threatening stance, and snaked his long, slender neck around us.

My uncle didn’t even need to open his mouth for the Blood Wyrm to rain fire.

The long years of companionship, the battles faced, the exiles they endured, the devotion and love one felt for the other and Queen Visenya’s ritual had made rider and dragon even more united. They were like a single soul, heart and mind.

"Stay in the air for now!" I shouted to our children when I noticed they were beginning to descend. "Come down when we signal that the ground is safe!"

Visenya nodded and guided Tennebris further to the side, taking her siblings with her.

"There are no more Keepers." My husband murmured cynically. Although his attention remained on the dirt path that led to the top of Rhaenys Hill, I could see an ironic smile on his lips. "It’s a shame that King Viserys’ new sons don’t have a single dragon, don’t you think, my love?"

My lips curved into a sneer.

The lack of any Keeper present in the Dragonpit caught my attention the moment we landed. It wasn’t as if we would allow any of the Dragons to be chained after years of freedom. However, it was easy to understand the reason why such an ancient place was empty and abandoned.

King Viserys himself and his children were not riders.

The selfish and savory thought brought a wave of joy to me. The anger of seeing the Dornish dog again made my blood boil, however, the constant reminder that Daemon and I were parents of legitimate riders filled me with vengeful satisfaction.

"Truly, a shame that the King and his new children are not riders like us two and our eight children, my love." My voice sounded like a sweet venomous and false melody. From the corner of my eye, I saw how his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "Don’t kill him yet." I warned, without needing to mention who, when the sound of the approaching horses grew louder.

Frustration dominated my husband’s beautiful features and he almost pouted indignantly. Definitely, being the father of seven girls had taught the feared, infamous and famous Rogue Prince a few tricks on how to be petulant. I laughed as he huffed and rolled his eyes. Beneath him, Caraxes also let out an indignant snort.

"But you will have his head as soon as possible, my love." I promised lovingly. "And Otto Hightower’s as well, although the whore Queen’s and Mellos’ are mine."

Daemon said nothing, yet it was obvious how the promise of a few severed heads and spilled blood calmed a bit of the rage boiling in his dragon blood. I myself longed to bathe Fire Heart’s blade in the blood of our enemies and cleanse the Red Keep of the snakes in sheep’s clothing that slithered through its corridors.

Daemon and I are made of the same flesh, blood, fire and wrath.

The sound of the horses’ hooves and the wheels of the carriages crushing the gravel finally reached us. Then, the Kingsguard entered my field of vision. Syrax began to growl softly at the same time Caraxes spread his wings wider and his posture became more menacing. My Golden Lady vibrated beneath me. Our anger and our disdain mixed as one, which made my emotions more fragile and harder to control.

"Calm yourself, Syrax." I ordered through the bond.

Syrax stopped growling, but she did not lower her guard. Flying not too high above us and covering us with the shadow of his enormous body, Tennebris circled the Pit slowly, with Visenya on his back. The God of Darkness let out a low, furious rumble, and the sound still managed to reach us on the ground. Our other hatchlings remained farther away and close enough to hear us.

The riders halted abruptly, and the atmosphere grew even more tense the moment Caraxes snaked his long red neck in their direction.

The scarlet dragon released sharp, threatening clicks, his chest vibrating with a deep snarl. He opened his massive maw to expose two rows of razor-sharp, deadly fangs. Remaining in the same place, the Blood Wyrm roared violently, and the sound seemed to shake the entire ancient structure of the Dragonpit. Daemon’s face lit up with an arrogant smile, and he gave a gloved tap to the crimson-scaled neck.

Two show-offs.

The horses immediately panicked, some trying to flee and others nearly rearing. The Kingsguards, all pale with fear and wide-eyed, struggled to hold the animals and keep them from bolting.

Tennebris’s roar exploded over all of them and left the animals even more terrified.

I had to hold back a loud laugh when the white horse reared and Crispin Cole fell flat on his back in the dirt after failing to control it. He let out a loud groan of pain and cursed. He tried to roll to the side, though his armor made it difficult. Unlike me, my husband did not hold back and laughed mockingly at the fallen Dornish dog. I shot Daemon a fake warning look, and he merely shrugged, never losing the wide smile of amusement.

“I see the years have made you quite a mediocre Kingsguard, Ser Crispin.” Daemon’s hoarse, sarcastic voice broke the tense silence.

The Dornish dog brushed off the help of his brother-in-cloak and rose furiously. He took two steps forward, his face and dark eyes showing all the hatred and resentment he still held for my husband. Daemon raised an eyebrow, cynically.

“I think the little Dornish puppy of the whore Queen is angry, my love.” he commented casually, in High Valyrian. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “If I throw a stick, will he fetch it like a good boy?”

I stared at him, a mix of horrified amusement and disbelief.

“Behave, husband.” I asked, the laughter trapped in my throat.

“Stop right now, Ser Cole!” The command rang out loud and without room for argument. “That is an order from your Commander.”

I turned my attention forward, and my eyes blurred with unshed tears when I saw him. Sitting atop a brown stallion was the man who had been the sworn squire of my childhood and the father of my heart. Harrold Westerling, the Lord Commander, seemed to have changed little in the last eighteen years. He was still bald, though his beard had barely grayed, and only a few wrinkles had deepened with time.

“Lord Commander…” Cole began, but fell silent when Ser Harrold raised a hand.

The Dornish dog had advanced toward us and looked moments away from drawing his sword before the Lord Commander stopped him.

“Get your horse and return to the Red Keep at once, Ser Cole.” the Lord Commander murmured sternly.

Cole glared at his superior with anger and clenched his jaw.

“Queen Diana ordered me to come as well, Lord Commander, to accompany the newly arrived.”

Ser Harrold raised a single eyebrow.

“Then you are dismissed to immediately return to your post as the Queen’s Shield while I and the other Kingsguards escort Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, and their family to the Red Keep, Ser Criston.” His gaze was serious and firm. “If there is any complaint, I will handle it with King Viserys.”

Crispin turned red and clenched his fists, but he obeyed the order and mounted the horse of a brother-in-cloak. He dug his spurs into the animal and rode off furiously. Daemon wore only smiles of satisfaction and scorn, and I felt exactly the same.

“Well…” There was a light clearing of the throat that made me look back at the father of my heart. Though his expression was severe, his brown eyes carried a mix of emotions. My chest tightened with longing and happiness at seeing him once again. “Welcome back to King’s Landing, Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon!” Harrold lowered his head in a deep sign of respect.

♛

I had always known, through the letters exchanged with the Black Canary and our other little birds, of the catastrophic and miserable state the city of King’s Landing had fallen into over the last eighteen years. In 113 AC, the situation had already been precarious, and the residents desperately needed attention and help from their King. However, he had always been more concerned with hosting feasts, banquets, tournaments, balls, and satisfying the well-being of the nobles.

Common folk had lacked a true and good ruler ever since Viserys sat upon the Iron Throne.

“Why does this place smell so bad, muña?” Maelys was torn between looking at the city through the carriage window and covering her tiny nose with a perfumed handkerchief. “Volantis doesn’t smell like shit the way this place does.” She turned her little face toward me, twisted in pure indignation, and furrowed her small silver brows. “Why doesn’t Grandpa King take care of his people? He shouldn’t worry only about the nobles.”

I looked at my three-year-old daughter, wondering how I could answer her. The worst part was that Maelys was right in what she said—Viserys truly didn’t care about the people and only invested in pleasing the nobles.

“My love, where did you hear that?” I deflected, narrowing my eyes.

Maelys’s soft cheeks turned red, and the younger twins giggled quietly.

“We heard kepa and Aemon talking about the King and how he treats his subjects, muña.” Alyssa murmured, and Daenna nodded in agreement. Rhaelys raised a brow and gave me an amused smile. “Papa sounded really angry while talking about his brother.” she commented thoughtfully. “Mama, the King is kepa’s brother and also your father, right?”

When we told them about our permanent return to Westeros, we explained to the four younger troublemakers that King Viserys was my father and Daemon and Dhaerys’s brother. They also knew their kepa was my uncle and that it was common for Targaryens to marry within their bloodline. It was on that day Alyssa and Daenna declared they would marry before the Fourteen Flames, like Visenya and Rhaena, when they turned sixteen.

“Yes, Lys.” I nodded, smiling at them. “The King is my father…” I paused abruptly to swallow the bitterness back down and forced myself to continue in a gentle tone. “And the older brother of your kepa and Aunt Dhaerys.”

Alyssa nodded while Daenna called Aemma and Maelys to look out the carriage windows, for we were now climbing Aegon’s Hill. There, the air was much fresher and cleaner—the complete opposite of the city’s heart. The streets of Flea Bottom had been the stretches where the stench of shit, piss, rot, trash, and other filth grew nearly unbearable.

My heart tightened with pain at seeing so many children thrown into mud and human filth along the streets. They varied in age, yet all of them were so dirty, ragged, and malnourished. Women sold their bodies in broad daylight to anyone who could pay anything at all. My eyes filled with tears when I saw a young woman with a baby in her arms, and she seemed to be selling herself as well. People who were old, sick, and dying filled the corners as if they were garbage.

It was as if death itself walked through every street, alley, and backroad, always lurking and waiting to sink its claws into another miserable soul abandoned to its own fate.

The pain of witnessing their suffering was replaced by a throbbing hatred and even more contempt for the Puppet King. How could he remain so blind to the needs of his people, who were practically under his nose? It was clear Viserys was king only in name, for it was Otto and Diana who truly controlled the court and the realm.

The Greens would pay dearly for everything.

My heart sped up, and part of my mind began to slip away from the lively chatter of my younger daughters. The urge to command Syrax and Tennebris to unleash a deluge of fire upon those wretches, turning the entire Red Keep into hell itself, pulsed fiercely within my chest. My vision blurred with tears of rage, and the sob caught in my throat.

In that moment, I wished Daemon were in the same carriage as me, and not in the one behind mine with our older children and Rhaena.

“Muña…” Rhaelys’s gentle, worried whisper pierced through the cloud of fury that scrambled my logical thoughts. She pulled my clenched hands into hers and gave them a comforting squeeze. “Look at me, Mama, please.”

I felt so ashamed that my daughter had seen me like this, and even more at the thought that my other little ones might have noticed too.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered timidly. After checking that the four youngest were still focused on the scenery outside, I continued: “Seeing how people are being treated, such blatant neglect… Those children and mothers…” I took a deep breath and shook my head to clear away any impulsive thoughts. “It makes me so furious.”

Rhaelys sighed, wrapped an arm over my shoulders, and kissed my cheek.

“I think I can understand you to a certain extent, muña. But we’re a family, and as such, we’ll fight together for your right to the throne and so these people may have a better, more dignified life.”

I smiled and brushed my hand along her blushing cheek.

“Thank you, my love.”

I breathed in relief when our carriage stopped in the large courtyard of the Red Keep and the door was immediately opened. Maelys and Aemma squealed sharply and rushed toward the exit before I even recognized Daemon’s muffled laugh. The twins followed, and Rhaelys kissed my cheek again before going after her sisters. We had divided into two carriages because there were eleven of us in total, and we simply couldn’t fit in one alone.

“You’re not coming, my love?” he asked when he leaned in and looked inside. His brow furrowed when he saw me slightly tense. “What happened, Nyra?” Daemon extended a hand toward me, his purple eyes overflowing with concern.

This time, when my heart raced again, it was out of love and gratitude for having Daemon in my life. In the early years, he had been a beloved uncle, and now he was my husband and the father of my children. Why had Viserys never seen Daemon’s true worth? Kepus was violent, a bit hot-headed, and somewhat chaotic, true. But at the same time, he was protective, passionate about our Valyrian roots, a fierce defender of our family, and loved each of us beyond measure.

The famous Rogue Prince would always be part of who Daemon Targaryen was, but he would also be much more than a title.

“I was just a bit shaken by the condition of the people in the city, my love.” I sighed heavily and held his hand to step toward him, though I didn’t move from the soft, cushioned seat. His expression darkened, and his shoulders stiffened with anger. “We’ll help them as soon as possible.” I assured him, squeezing his hand.

He nodded and kissed my ring-adorned fingers before lifting his purple eyes and giving me a roguish smile.

“Ready for the second part of our show, my beautiful queen?”

My lips curved into something cruel.

“Of course, my king.” I slowly licked my lips while Daemon watched the motion with a ravenous gaze. “The rightful Heir to the Iron Throne is ready to claim what has always belonged to her.”

Finally, we would begin hunting the snakes in sheep’s clothing and the fat leeches of Oldtown.

Let the game of thrones begin!

♛

 

Notes:

Well, well, that’s it for today. I hope you liked it. The next chapter will focus on the Blacks entering the Court.

I LOVE IT!

See you soon!

Chapter 39

Notes:

Hi, my little dragons! 🐉🔥

Thank you for reading another chapter. Family tensions are rising, secrets are cracking open, and Princess Rhaenyra’ return is about to turn King’s Landing upside down.

Hope you enjoy the chaos — see you in the next one! 💜

♛

Interlude 5.

"The Heir Princess and her Prince Consort were the first to enter everyone’s line of sight."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

The whispers about the early return of the Heir Princess, along with her Rogue Prince and their children, began the exact moment the sky of King’s Landing was filled with several dragons.

It had been many years since the residents, both nobles and commoners, had seen the beautiful and feared beasts flying freely above the Capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Besides that, it was common knowledge that the King and all his children with the Queen Consort, Diana Hightower, were not riders. The eggs had turned to stone in each of their cradles, and none of them had managed to claim an adult dragon, not even one that had been ridden by another Targaryen or one completely wild.

Unlike the Royal Family, the Heir Princess and the Rogue Prince possessed eleven dragons in their family. Even the former mounts of the Old King and the Good Queen, Bronze Fury and Silverwing, had new riders. Besides them, there were new beasts never seen before by anyone in King’s Landing.

Did these unknown dragons hatch in the cradle of the Princess’s children with her uncle-husband, just as Syrax was born beside her? If so, why had none of King Viserys’s other children had the same luck?

The whispers became more inquisitive and uncontrollable.

People — lords, ladies, royal cooks, guards, servants, laundresses, stablehands, prostitutes, vendors, bakers, shopkeepers, Gold Cloaks and anyone else who had a tongue — spoke about the great return of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen in the skies. While some, her opponents and the Greens themselves, said how she had acted like a great show-off and a spoiled arrogant girl; countless others, her loyal little birds and common folk, were impressed and already beginning to feel a strong spark of hope rising.

Even after almost two decades away from the Capital, would the still Heir Princess and the Rogue Prince look upon the most miserable?

"My beloved daughter has finally come home, to our family!" King Viserys exclaimed, coming out of his state of astonishment, with tears in his eyes and joy in his voice. They headed to the great courtyard when they began to hear the roars of the dragons and the sound of several wings beating at the same time. "My dear, our daughter is back." He turned to his wife.

While some celebrated the return of the Dragon Princess, others remained in a mix of shock and hatred…

Queen Hightower had to use all her self-control not to scream in Viserys’s face and call him stupid. That girl, the person she despised the most and wished to see dead, would never be her daughter or part of her family. The hatred boiled her blood and made her heart beat furiously. How had the princess prostitute, her vile uncle, and that brood of cursed children survived the members of the Blood Shadow? Diana, just like now, had been so enraged and unhinged when she learned of their return.

"I’m so happy as well, my love." Diana murmured and held the King’s fat hands between hers, forcing a smile. Inwardly, her stomach twisted with disgust for having to touch him. The worst part was when he called her to his chambers so she could fulfill her role as wife. "We must go inside and prepare for the arrival of our daughter and her family, husband."

Hearing the sweet words of his beautiful and young wife, Viserys’s smile grew wider and more enthusiastic. Soon, he was shouting orders for two carriages to be taken to the Dragonpit and for some Guards to escort his daughter and her family back to the Keep. The Lord Commander bowed his head and left to fetch the Heir Princess. In the end, only Otto Hightower, the Queen Consort, and her Sworn Shield, Criston Cole, remained in the great courtyard.

"How…" The woman turned, furious, to her father and continued in a venomous tone: "How did that damned brat manage to get so many dragons? Eleven… eleven monsters in her hands, father." She hissed, clenching her jaw. "Meanwhile, we have none."

Otto was just as furious as Diana with what had just happened. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s display of showmanship had been quite unexpected, even though he already knew she had some dragons under her power. When he allied himself with the Triarchy of Volantis to assassinate the wretched princess, her prostitute uncle, and the cursed children, the Rulers had been vague and did not confirm how many beasts existed. Now, he had just witnessed the triumphant return of the Heir to the Iron Throne with eleven claimed dragons.

"Do not despair, my daughter." Otto tried to sound calm and rational, even though he felt nervous and uncertain. The failure of the Blood Shadow and the lack of answers from the Triarchy of Volantis were two heavy blows to his ambitious plans. "With those abominations under the same roof as us, we will have an easier time killing them and taking those beasts under our control."

Diana let out a low and extremely sarcastic laugh. She cast a look of scorn at her father, which irritated Otto deeply. Ever since they learned the Targaryens would return alive to King’s Landing, father and daughter had been arguing and disagreeing about how to finally make Baelon the next king.

"It seems you forget that you already failed with the Bloodshadow and that the whore Princess is married to the Rogue Prince, father,’’ Diana mocked, wearing a wide, ironic smile. Otto’s scowl deepened, but she didn’t care and turned to her handsome lover: ‘’Ser Criston, go to the Dragonpit as well and make sure they imprison those monstrous creatures, because I imagine the slut will want to leave them free.’’ Her face brightened right after. ‘’Say it is a direct order from their Queen.’’

As the obedient little dog that he was, Criston opened a wide, toothy smile and gave his queen a deep bow.

‘’As my queen commands.’’ He winked before turning and marching toward the stables.

She let out a small, lovestruck sigh as she watched her beautiful lover walk away. The Lord Hand’s foul mood turned even more sour as he was forced to witness such a scene. He had already ordered Diana to stop seeing the Kingsguard and to no longer take him as a lover after Alysanne was born looking far too much like her true biological father.

‘’Why does the girl have dark eyes and hair?’’ Viserys asked, slightly suspicious, when he finally entered the birthing chamber and saw his newborn daughter. ‘’Her coloring looks nothing like Rhaenyra’s or like that of our other children, Diana.’’ His purple eyes fixed on his wife’s sweaty, exhausted face.

The atmosphere in the birthing chamber grew tense and suffocating. The Queen Consort was still worn out from her fourth delivery and furious that the girl did not have the Valyrian coloring of the Targaryens. She knew very well who the baby’s father was, and it certainly wasn’t the Puppet King.

‘’Husband, I…’’ She abruptly fell silent and cast a desperate look at her father and Grand Maester Mellos. ‘’Our daughter…’’ She let out a pained groan when she moved too suddenly.

Seeing the catastrophe forming right before him, Otto discreetly signaled Mellos to step in.

‘’Your Grace, if you allow me, I can explain why Princess Alysanne’s coloring is different from that of your other children,’’ Mellos murmured.

Viserys shifted his gaze from his wife to the old gray rat and gestured for him to continue.

‘’Princess Alysanne has dark eyes and hair because she inherited that appearance from her mother’s side,’’ the old man said, forcing a convincing smile. ‘’Generally, children inherit traits from their parents and their father’s family, as happened with Prince Baelon, Prince Aegon, and Prince Aemond. Although rarely, babies can inherit physical traits from the maternal side.’’

Grand Maester Mellos’s explanation seemed to convince and soothe any suspicion the King had regarding his wife’s fidelity.

‘’Then why doesn’t the girl have reddish hair and hazel-green eyes like my wife?’’ the King questioned again, after looking at the sleeping girl, frowning.

Diana, in pain and so tired, wished she could command him to shut his mouth.

‘’Because she inherited the dark eyes and hair of my late mother, my King.’’ Diana’s voice took on a trembling tone, and a few tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘’The Seven blessed me with a reminder of my mother in our daughter.’’ A soft sob escaped her.

Otto was quick to comfort her and looked at the King with a falsely sorrowful expression.

‘’It is true, Your Grace, my granddaughter looks so much like my late wife, the beloved mother of my children.’’

Guilt for doubting his wife’s fidelity weighed on Viserys’s shoulders that very instant, so he approached the bed and held Diana’s hand between his own.

‘‘Forgive me for so many questions, my love,’’ he said.

The King could never imagine that Otto’s late wife, Diana’s mother, had been a redhead with green eyes.

“Don’t even start with that same old whining, father,” Diana warned when she faced him and dismissed any concern before Otto could voice it. “Since I’m forced to lie with that old, filthy pig, then I will not give up my handsome lover.” She turned her back on the Hand of the King, making her majestic green dress follow her movement, and began walking toward the castle. “Come, we need to prepare for this little show.”

The fat leech of Oldtown swallowed her rage and decided she would not argue with her daughter again. Not now, at least. After confirming they were still alone outside, Otto began walking behind her, his head held high and the Hand’s brooch pinned proudly to his doublet.

Behind a pillar, hidden by the darkness and outside everyone’s radar, the One-Eyed Prince watched the interaction between his grandfather and his mother.

Perhaps the arrival of his older half-sister, Rhaenyra, and his uncle, Daemon, was exactly what he needed to finally take revenge on those two.

♛

Eighteen years ago, her husband and she walked through those same doors twice and had been received in the Throne Room by King Viserys I Targaryen. On the day they returned as Heroes of the War for the Stepstones, and when they announced they had married under the blessing of the Fourteen Flames on Dragonstone. Now, the Dragon Princess and the Warrior Prince were back, although this time, accompanied by their eight little dragonlings and good daughter.

“Ready, my queen?” Daemon asked in High Valyrian and brought her hands to his lips, placing a kiss upon the small fingers adorned with rings. Rhaenyra’s smile grew and her lilac eyes looked at him with a mixture of love and devotion. At last, she nodded. “You look so beautiful, my passion.” His smile widened.

Rhaenyra lifted an eyebrow teasingly.

“Always gallant, aren’t you, uncle?”

Daemon kissed the back of her hand and replied with good humor:

“For my beautiful wife, of course.”

Daenna and Alyssa let out sweet, cheerful giggles, making Visenya smile at the youngest twins. By her side stood her beautiful wife. Rhaena felt extremely nervous and nauseous being at Court for the first time, though she refused to leave her twin flame in a nest of serpents.

“Are you alright, my pearl?” Visenya asked softly when she noticed her wife’s nervous expression and delicately furrowed brows. Every part of her longed to pull Rhaena into her arms, but surrounded by snakes, they had to remain discreet and hide that they were married. “Do you need anything?” Her lilac eyes watched her with concern.

Rhaena’s heart sped up, though this time from love and happiness. She tried to push the nervousness aside and focus only on her wife’s angelic face. Sometimes, it was still surreal to think — and know — that among all the women in the world, Visenya Targaryen, the next Heir to the Iron Throne, had chosen her to be her wife and future Queen Consort.

“Yes, my love,” Rhaena whispered in High Valyrian as well, and her fingers brushed discreetly against Visenya’s. Her wife smiled at the touch. “A little nervous about walking into a room full of strangers and standing before the King of the Seven Kingdoms.” She confessed, her cheeks gaining a slight blush.

Visenya’s gaze darkened slightly as she swallowed and a familiar warmth began settling in her belly. She couldn’t explain it, but seeing her beautiful wife blush excited her.

“My pearl…” She fell silent, the warmth rising at a very inconvenient moment. “Damn it,” she muttered as Rhaena’s face only grew redder. They were moments away from entering with the family into a nest of vipers, yet somehow managed to get lost in their own bubble. “You are so beautiful, Rhae.”

The couple heard a small, displeased huff.

“Please, not now, sister.” Aemon looked at her with a frown. As children of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen, the older siblings knew just how Visenya was with her wife. “Soon you two will be alone again.”

Embarrassed and uncomfortable, Rhaena blushed harder and looked at the ground. Visenya shot her younger brother a piercing look.

“I suggest you stay quiet, little brother, considering you’re walking on a very thin and fragile layer of ice lately.” Visenya glanced briefly at their parents, ensuring they had noticed nothing, and returned her attention to him. “And what my wife and I do is none of your concern, Aemon.”

He nodded and looked away.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

After their last argument and ultimatum from his mother, Aemon kept quieter and more lost in thought. He didn’t feel anger toward his parents nor believed they were being unfair — he just couldn’t reach an agreement between his mind and his heart. Was Rhaenyra right when she said he wasn’t jealous of his sister because of Rhaelys? Honestly, he still couldn’t be sure.

Why did feelings have to be so confusing and difficult sometimes?

At that moment, Aemon stayed far enough not to bother her and close enough to the family not to raise whispers. Although Rhaelys herself wore an unreadable expression and serious purple eyes, her stomach had been twisting ever since she climbed down from Tessarion. Unaware of her older siblings’ silent tension, Aemma looked around with curiosity and held tightly onto Rhaelys’s hand.

“The place where muña and kepa were born is so big, Elys,” Aemma whispered, enchanted by the Red Keep.

Rhaelys smiled and ran her hand through her little sister’s curls.

“It is, my sweet.”

Quietly, Maelys was in Helaena’s arms, hugging her around the neck with her short arms. Meanwhile, Hel, the second Dragon Twin, forced herself to focus solely on the adorable baby in her arms and on their parents’ backs. Her mind was growing foggy, and the noise coming from the Main Hall was becoming more irritating each minute.

“I’ll be just one touch away from you, Hel,” Visenya whispered, noticing her twin’s discomfort.

Helaena smiled faintly when Visenya’s soft, sweet voice sounded beside her. The eldest sister whispered, in High Valyrian, a lullaby that calmed her whenever she became too nervous or agitated. Their parents and siblings said nothing, for they knew the method well and used it themselves whenever needed to soothe Helaena.

“Thank you, Senya,” Hel whispered back, and her sister winked without stopping the soft singing.

Focusing on her sister’s voice, Helaena felt her rigid muscles relax a little, her mind become clearer, and her heart even slowed down. She buried her nose in Maelys’s soft and fragrant hair, which her muña loved to say still smelled like a baby.

"Announce us." Daemon’s serious voice brought the pests’ attention back to their parents.

Beside him, their munã remained with an apparent calm and a soft smile on her face. Unlike Rhaenyra, Daemon seemed more like the human embodiment of a dragon, one who would burn anyone who crossed his path or annoyed him. They held back their laughter, for they knew their kepa’s temper very well.

"Kepa looks more like Cary, Hel." Maelys whispered, making her stifle a giggle.

"Yes, May." Helaena kissed her soft hair. "Now, let’s stay very quiet."

The poor herald, a short and balding man, widened his eyes in fear and enchantment, for it had been so long since the poor man had seen the Princess and the Prince.

"Of course… my prince." His face turned red with embarrassment when Rhaenyra raised a brow at him. She opened a small ironic smile. "And, my princess." His back ached a little when he gave a deep bow.

The Kingsguard opened the heavy doors just as the herald’s voice echoed, loud and nearly stuttering, through the cavernous hall of the Iron Throne Room.

"Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne, Dragon Princess, Rider of Syrax, Lady of the Stepstones, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh." The herald licked his dry lips, with trembling hands and a pounding heart. "Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Warrior Prince, Rider of Caraxes, Prince of the City, Lord of Flea Bottom, Lord of the Stepstones, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh, and consort husband of the Heir Princess."

The chorus of joyful and singing voices of the common folk reached the Dragon Family. Since they had appeared in the sky, the peasants had managed to gather strength, despite the misery that clung to them like a second skin, in their hearts and began to praise the name of their Princess and their Prince.

They were so hopeful after so many miserable years of struggle.

It had been the Black Canary, eighteen years ago, who did not allow the truth to remain hidden and let the people know the reason that caused the Dragon Couple to leave King’s Landing.

"Tell the truth, inform everyone that King Viserys I Targaryen wanted to exile our Rogue Prince and force our Dragon Princess to marry Lord Jason Lannister." Black Canary murmured angrily to some of her girls. "Whisper that the King did not bless their marriage and wanted to annul it."

The herald, even more nervous, looked at the brood behind Their Highnesses and continued the announcement right away:

"Princess Visenya, Princess Helaena, Prince Aemon, Princess Rhaelys, Princess Alyssa, Princess Daenna, Princess Aemma, and Princess Maelys of House Targaryen." The poor man paused and moistened his dry lips again. "Lady Rhaena Strong of Houses Strong and Velaryon."

At the exact moment the doors of the Throne Room opened and the herald finished announcing them, the silence became deeper and almost tangible within the cavernous space. The nobles remained standing, eyes attentive and ears sharp to catch even the smallest whisper. The servants squeezed into the farthest and darkest corners of the hall, yet so anxious and euphoric to glimpse the Dragon Family.

True Targaryens, an image of what the children of Old Valyria would have been.

That was what crossed the minds of many present, though no tongue was bold enough to turn such thoughts into spoken words.

"They… are…" A servant girl, wide-eyed and heart racing, tried to mumble when the Dragon Family finally began entering the Throne Hall. "Gods be good, Anny." Jenna placed a hand over her chest.

Anny, her “friend,” shook her head, and the two pressed themselves against a stone pillar, trying to see their beloved Princess better while staying hidden at the same time.

"Yes, I understand what you mean, my love." She answered, her voice coming out almost inaudible, for no one could hear them and discover the real nature of their relationship. "They are…" Anny’s dark gaze sparked in the direction of the Royal Family.

True Targaryens, an image of what the children of Old Valyria would have been.

The Heir Princess and her Prince Consort were the first to enter everyone’s line of sight.

The whispers would last for weeks.

With a wide, ironic smile on his lips, the Rogue Prince was the first to step into the cavernous hall. He stopped and rested his hand on the hilt of the ancestral sword, his purple, dangerous eyes sweeping across the place. His hair was slicked back, the black leather riding clothes and the famous Dark Sister hanging at his waist only added to the image of power and danger Daemon Targaryen exuded.

In one fluid movement, he turned back and extended an arm.

Breaths caught.

She, the rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, finally appeared before everyone and took her husband’s extended hand. Just like him, the Dragon Princess wore similar black clothing that embraced her curves discreetly and made it clear she remained the Realm’s Delight, even after eight children. The dark tone highlighted her long, wavy hair, which fell around her waist like a beautiful silver cascade, and seemed to illuminate her bright lilac eyes.

Above her rare, flawless beauty, it was her posture that drew just as much attention. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s spine was straight, shoulders aligned, and chin lifted. She radiated power, danger, disdain, and arrogance—traits shared with and inherited from her uncle-husband.

"Shall we, my passion?" the Rogue Prince asked in High Valyrian, his voice low and husky. Her expression didn’t change at all, but he managed to see desire slightly darken her lilac gaze. "The royal family awaits us," he mocked.

Her lips curved into a small, cruel, ironic smile.

"Then we can’t keep them waiting, my love," she answered sweetly, like a slow and lethal poison. "Come, little ones." She offered a gentle smile and winked right after. "Let’s get this farce over with, husband."

Hand in hand, Rhaenyra and Daemon began descending the few steps.

As the next Heir to the Iron Throne, Visenya was the first to follow her parents. She walked with her father’s arrogance and exuded her mother’s beauty. Helaena, although extremely agitated by being in a new place filled with so many unfamiliar people, managed to focus part of her attention on Maelys’ fragrant hair, still resting in her arms, and her gaze settled on her twin sister’s back.

Rhaelys held the small hand of a very curious Aemma. While Elys’ cheeks burned with embarrassment, the little one looked at everything and everyone. She frowned when she saw several Seven-Pointed Stars hanging throughout the hall. Daenna and Alyssa walked arm in arm with their chins lifted, just as their mother had taught. Rhaena wore a gentle yet proud smile. Aemon came last. He looked very much like Daemon physically and carried the same dangerous gaze.

"They… the children of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon…" a lady began to say, her face partially hidden behind an open fan, and stopped. She cast a sideways glance at her sister. "These children are beautiful and radiate so much power without needing to speak," she whispered. "All with the stunning Valyrian appearance and dragonriders."

Her sister could only agree and continue watching the Dragon Family passing down the corridor toward the Iron Throne.

"Now we know who the true dragons are, sister," the lady sighed when Rhaenyra and Daemon walked past them. The two gossiping ladies were enthralled, just like nearly everyone in the Throne Room. "Queen Diana said so often that the Heir Princess had become a hag and lost the beauty that once made her the Realm’s Delight, but now we see who is the fairest." She let out a discreet mocking smile.

The Iron Throne had been built by Aegon I Targaryen, the first King of the Seven Kingdoms. The Conqueror ordered the seat to be forged from the swords of his defeated enemies, heated by Balerion’s fire. Supposedly, a thousand blades were used in its construction, and it took fifty-nine days to complete.

The seat, which granted supreme power to the Targaryen who sat upon it, was nothing more than a massive, twisted, irregular cluster of bent and razor-sharp blades. Its appearance was ugly, monstrous, and imposing. It was impossible to rest one's back against the throne, as the chance of being cut was enormous, making it uncomfortable to sit on for long.

Since the Conquest, only Kings had sat on the Iron Throne.

Soon, you will become the first woman to sit on the Iron Throne as the Ruling Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

A sly little voice purred from somewhere in her mind. That undeniable certainty made Rhaenyra smile more openly and squeeze her husband’s hand. Daemon, having a similar line of thought to his passion, cast a burning sideways look at her and rubbed his thumb over the wedding ring on her finger. Behind them, their brood continued following with confident steps and the posture of true royalty.

The Dragon Princess’s lilac eyes finally fixed on the man sitting upon her Throne.

Ah, that was her father, King Viserys—the same man who swore to love his first Queen Consort, Aemma Arryn, yet ordered her to be opened like a pig during childbirth…

The little box where she kept the hate, disgust, and revulsion she had locked away somewhere in her heart for the past eighteen years had its lid ripped off the moment her eyes met his. Her heart beat harder, driving the thick, fiery dragon’s blood through her veins even faster, and the promise of vengeance sang in her ears like a reminder from when Rhaenyra had been nothing more than a young, innocent twelve-year-old princess.

Suddenly, the Dragon Princess was no longer in the cavernous Throne Room, nor did she feel Daemon’s hand firmly wrapped around hers like an anchor, nor was she aware of how everyone stared at them without blinking.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was pulled into the past, thrown back into the pain of watching her beloved mother be murdered.

"Mother, please!" Rhaenyra begged, her cries filled with anguish and deep sorrow. She hugged her mother tighter and wept, for she knew Aemma had been murdered. "Mother, I love you," she whispered, and holding the older woman’s face with her bloodied hands, she kissed her still-warm cheeks. "I will avenge you one day, I swear to you, Aemma Arryn." Her whisper was heard by no one else.

Even without losing the arrogant posture of the Rogue Prince, Daemon immediately noticed that something was wrong with his wife. Rhaenyra walked with the confidence of the powerful, dangerous woman she was; she hadn’t lost her gentle smile nor allowed her rage toward the King to crack the carefully crafted expression. However, he had known her his entire life and could tell something was wrong, and his chest tightened with worry.

"My passion?" Daemon moved his lips discreetly and squeezed her hand harder. "Rhaenyra?" he insisted, his heart beating faster.

He was almost stopping when his wife looked at him and shook her head, a glimmer of gratitude in her eyes. Rhaenyra, who had been pulled from the past by the hoarse voice of her uncle-husband, rubbed her thumb over his wedding ring to reassure him. It was a wordless response that said everything was fine. Daemon nodded and focused again on the theater they were staging before the entire Court.

"Welcome, everyone!" King Viserys exclaimed with great enthusiasm, making his emotional voice echo through the tense and uncomfortable silence of the hall. Since seeing her flying on the back of the Golden Lady, he had been counting the minutes to see her again and finally meet his grandchildren. Not even Daemon’s presence would ruin his happiness. "Oh..." he uttered, stunned, when he noticed how many children were standing behind the Dragon Couple. "I…"

There were nine children, although he knew that only eight belonged to Rhaenyra and one of them was the granddaughter of Princess Rhaenys Targaryen-Velaryon. Part of Viserys was very happy that his family had grown so much; however, a spark of anger ignited inside him. His daughter had always feared the birthing bed. Had his vile brother forced her into so many pregnancies anyway? The King swallowed hard and tried not to let that thought cloud all his happiness.

On the level below the dais, where Viserys was seated on the Iron Throne, the other members of the Royal Family remained almost motionless. Queen Diana wore a ridiculous green dress with a high collar and long sleeves; and a Seven-Pointed Star rested against her chest as she smiled forcedly. Beside her, her six children wore a darker shade of green and looked at Rhaenyra with a mixture of feelings.

Aegon, Aemond, and Alysanne did not know what to really expect from the famous Dragon Princess. Jaehaerys and Maegelle were caught between curiosity and fear. Baelon, already a little drunk, did not want to be there, having to receive the Heiress and her family. He wished to be on the Street of Silk with his prostitutes, but his mother had forced him to attend such a farce. On the other hand, seeing his older sister again and meeting the cursed children was beginning to interest him quite a bit.

Rhaenyra was a beautiful woman, and her older nieces were also a delight to the eyes.

Daemon did not miss Baelon’s gaze—nor did Visenya. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and stepped in front of her sisters.

"Thank you, Your Grace!" Rhaenyra forced her voice to come out sweet and without a single trace of hatred, which corroded her inside like venom. Drawing Fire Heart from her waist and severing the King’s head from his shoulders would not be beneficial to her plans. "It is very good to be back home." She lowered her head in a minimal sign of respect.

She, Daemon, and their children would not kneel for the Puppet King. It was a blatant sign of disrespect. On the other hand, Rhaenyra knew that seeing his daughter again and meeting his grandchildren would erase any complaint that could arise from the lack of a proper bow to Viserys.

"Hello, brother." Daemon tilted his head slightly to the side, without letting his mischievous smile fade. To irritate the King, he wrapped an arm possessively around his wife’s waist and pulled her closer to him. "It’s good to see you again."

On the right side, the fat leech from Oldtown, Otto Hightower’s cunt, hardly even blinked.

He was still trying to process the information that the princess whore, her vile uncle, and the pack of cursed children had survived the best hired killers in Westeros. His hatred grew deeper and hotter when the Rogue Prince flashed a brief wide grin full of teeth at him. In contrast, a shiver of fear crept up his spine when Otto remembered that such a smile resembled the beast the Prince rode.

"Is he the grandpa King?" Little Maelys’s timid and distrustful voice broke the seconds of silence. She looked at Viserys with childish curiosity and seemed enchanted by the crown he wore. "Hel, what is that thing this man is sitting on?" A chubby finger pointed at the Throne. "It looks so hard and uncomfortable." She tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brows.

Viserys’s booming and emotional laugh echoed. Startled, Maelys hid her face in Helaena’s hair and kept staring at the King. Rhaenyra smiled warmly and opened her arms for her youngest, who came gladly. The Heiress to the Iron Throne stood beside the Rogue Prince at the same time their little ones surrounded them. Daemon wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

Viserys’s eyes welled with tears at the sight before him.

"Father, I want you to meet our children." The Dragon Princess adopted a gentle, affectionate tone as she looked at him, though it was very difficult to maintain the facade of a loving daughter. Daemon squeezed her shoulder when he felt her tense. "Children, this is the King of the Seven Kingdoms, Viserys Targaryen, my father and your kepa’s brother."

They all made a short bow, leaving Viserys even more delighted and emotional.

"No more ‘Your Grace’." The King corrected when the brats called him that. With Diana’s help, Viserys stood up and began to descend the dais, resting his weight on the golden cane. "Call me grandfather or grandpa." He asked as soon as he stopped in front of them.

Little did the Puppet King know that the only man the children called grandfather was Lord Corlys Velaryon.

"These are our oldest twins, Father." Rhaenyra spoke again as soon as she noticed her children’s discomfort and confusion. "Visenya, my heir, and Helaena. Then we have our only boy, Aemon."

"Aemon?" The King furrowed his brows, confused and a bit curious. "In honor of Uncle Aemon? But why?"

Daemon let out a discreet hum of scorn that only his beloved noticed. Rhaenyra shot him a look to make him restrain himself.

Well, at least for now…

"Yes." Daemon smiled ironically. "It is a tribute to the man who was a father to me and former rider of Caraxes."

The atmosphere grew heavier as some people farther back began whispering among themselves.

"Rhaelys is our fourth daughter." Rhaenyra thought it best to take control of the situation again. "Our second set of twins, Daenna and Alyssa."

Viserys felt as if he were slowly suffocating the moment he looked at the ten-year-old girls. Though they were twins, they were not very similar physically, except for the silver hair and purple eyes. However, what shook the King so deeply was seeing that one of the twins, Alyssa, had one purple eye and one green eye, like his own mother, the girl’s namesake.

"We also have Aemma." She gestured to the girl who stared at the King with strange coldness. "And Maelys, our youngest."

Viserys’s entire body felt as if it had been buried in the most isolated and frozen place in the North. Aemma. That name—the same as his beloved late wife—echoed in his mind and sent chills through him. The ghost of the deceased Queen Consort had not appeared for nearly two months, but the child, his granddaughter, standing before him made him think too much of the dead woman.

He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the cane’s handle, his heart pounding absurdly loud.

"Princess Dhaerys, Ser Maekar, Lady Daella, and Lady Alicent..." There was a sudden pause. The herald’s unexpected announcement caught almost everyone unprepared. "Of House Targaryen."

The herald’s confused voice sounded at the same time the doors of the Throne Room opened. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, and Daemon’s ironic smile widened. The younger girls immediately brightened upon hearing their aunts’ names, and the older ones knew there would be an excellent scene ahead, after all, it was Princess Dhaerys Targaryen.

"Wha… wh… What?" Viserys went pale, unable to tear his gaze away from the entrance to the hall. His heart was beating harder, and his legs seemed ready to buckle under his weight. "Dhaerys?" He continued to stammer miserably.

Diana and Otto were just as stunned. The other children of Viserys exchanged looks, and the Court had turned to see the new arrivals. Gasps of pure surprise, frantic whispers, and mixed exclamations began to spill out the moment everyone could finally see them.

"You cannot imagine the pleasure it is to be back!" Dhaerys Targaryen, the Runaway Princess, exclaimed with a wide, rakish smile. "Hello, Your Grace!" Her bright purple gaze fixed on Viserys’s mortally pale face. "Or may I call you brother?"

Hand in hand with Dhaerys, Alicent rolled her eyes at her wife’s showy manner while Maekar flushed and Daella stifled a laugh.

♛

 

Notes:

Thank you for reading, my dragons.🔥

The next chapter promises even more shock, chaos, and revelations — so get ready. See you soon… and may the Blacks’ flame never fade. 🖤🐉

Chapter 40: Chapter 31.

Notes:

Hello, my little dragons!💕🔥

Here comes another chapter filled with tension, desire, and that fire only Daemon and Rhaenyra can ignite. I hope you enjoy every line. Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 31.

"He and our little ones were my entire world."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

Behind the locked doors guarded by the Dragon Guards of my new chambers, located in the Heir’s Wing, there was an entire world waiting for me.

The snakes in sheep’s clothing kept crawling through the corridors of the Red Keep, the King was still deliberately useless and blind to the truth right under his own nose, and the common people lived in misery. Many of them lurked in the shadows and waited for the perfect moment to plunge a dagger into the back of every single member of my family—and into mine as well—and planned to usurp my birthright and make a violent, drunken bastard the next King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Just thinking about it was already exhausting.

However, in that exact moment, my gaze remained fixed on Daemon’s reflection in the large vanity mirror. In the calm and the rare quiet between the two of us—after all, eight little hatchlings meant constant noise and chaos—I watched my husband with a small smile. He combed each curled strand with extreme care not to hurt me and applied a scented oil before beginning to weave them into a beautiful braid at the end. He worked with so much care, love, and devotion in my long hair.

There was something so enchanting, comforting, and relaxing about watching him so attentive to me and oblivious to the world at the same time.

I lost myself in the subtle way Daemon furrowed his brow or his silver eyebrows when he became more focused on detangling a single lock; how his purple eyes carried a gentle and loving shine in such an intimate moment. It was incredible to see how the same hands that had killed countless people and wielded Dark Sister could also act with such tenderness toward me and our children.

He and our hatchlings were my entire world.

"Do you think you’ll be able to bend Viserys and make him let us infiltrate the Small Council so quickly?" he asked casually.

While Daemon pinned two braids at the nape of my neck, he didn’t look back at me, though he was attentive to what I would answer.

"I believe he’ll accept you and Senya without issue, but me?" A mocking smile began to appear on his lips. "He must be certain I’m truly Maegor reborn after getting his little girl, who was so afraid of being a mother, pregnant six times. I saw how tense he became when you started presenting our children, and I knew immediately what was going through his mind, my passion."

Annoyed by the truth my husband spoke, I slightly furrowed my brows and clenched my hands into fists over his lap. I wasn’t angry at Daemon—never. The bitter taste in my mouth came from the fact that the King was so weak and so easily manipulated that he couldn’t see who the real vipers in his own court were, and yet he didn’t hesitate to open his mouth and call his own brother a vile, greedy, violent man.

"Viserys is far too easily manipulated, uncle." My voice came out low and dripping with disdain for the man who was my father. "Diana and Otto may have whispered in the Puppet King’s ear for the last eighteen years, but I’m certain I can still pull a few right strings and make them give us seats on the Small Council. Despite having disobeyed him and stayed away for so long, I am still the Heir to the Iron Throne."

The fire crackled in the large hearth of dark stone, and the orange flames, along with several lit candles, illuminated all of our new chambers. The faint scent of burning oak logs mixed with fresh lemon cakes, hair oils from Volantis arranged on the vanity before me, and wet earth.

Since we arrived in King’s Landing five days ago, it hadn’t stopped raining.

"We saw how emotional and enchanted he was upon meeting our children, Daemon." I lifted my gaze again and looked at him through the reflection. He had finished the simple hairstyle, placed his hands on my bare shoulders, and began a subtle massage. My body relaxed immediately, and a loving smile appeared on my lips. "That idiot still loves me deeply and sees me as the same little sixteen-year-old girl." A subtle wicked glimmer crossed my eyes.

I hadn’t loved Viserys since I was an innocent twelve-year-old princess and had my beloved mother murdered by his order. It was on that same day that I swore I would take revenge on the King and make him pay for all the terror and suffering Aemma endured in her last minutes of life. So far, becoming a kinslayer was not part of my plans. On the other hand, I hadn’t hesitated to entwine his physical and mental health into a ritual, just as I had read in Queen Visenya’s journals.

When I mixed a few strands of Viserys’s hair with my blood while praying in High Valyrian to the Fourteen Flames, his health and life became bound to my hands. I knew Otto and Diana would eventually begin poisoning him to weaken and kill him in the coming years—after all, Mellos and other maesters were with them to usurp my throne and make Baelon the new King.

With Viserys alive, they wouldn’t be able to take my throne.

The same ritual that made the King immune to any poison also made it so that only I could tamper with his health. I didn’t hesitate to make him very sick when Laena and Harwin married, because I knew he would show up at High Tide after his little performance on Dragonstone when he came after me. The great bonus was that Queen Visenya also knew how to tamper with the mind of an enchanted person and drive them mad little by little, making them see what no one else could see.

During the years I stayed in Volantis, I played with Viserys’s health, making him very ill at one moment and healthy as a bull right after. I was even kind enough to allow him to see the dead wife he loved so much, although he saw the same image of her opened on the birthing bed.

If Viserys loved his first Queen Consort so deeply, then he should never forget her, correct?

"You are such a wicked and clever little thing, my passion." Daemon leaned down and planted a kiss on my cheek, whispering in my ear right after: "But also so beautiful, incredible, and completely mine." His slow, possessive tone sent a violent wave of desire mixed with shivers through me. I moaned softly. "Already getting excited, little dragon?" His calloused hand slid from my shoulder and held my breast almost without truly touching me.

It was incredible how the atmosphere between us could shift so drastically in certain moments. Just seconds ago, we were talking about how I would use the Puppet King’s feelings for me and our children to make him grant us three seats in the Small Council chambers. Yet now, the thought had already been forgotten, and desire spoke louder than any other subject.

"Daemon..." With half-lidded eyes and my heart galloping, I tried to reprimand him, though my needy voice revealed the opposite. He chuckled, the muffled, drawn-out sound brushing against the feverish skin of my overly sensitive neck. "We have to go to that damn dinner or we’ll arrive late." I reminded him, gasping faintly when Daemon squeezed my breast and kissed my collarbone. "Uncle..."

Suddenly, there were no soft lips, no warm hand, no husky whispers on me—just the ghost of his presence. Annoyed and sexually frustrated, my cheeks began turning red, and I turned to face the beautiful man wearing a wicked smile before me. I narrowed my eyes, feeling the heat of anger rise toward the tips of my ears as Daemon adopted a smug expression and took a sip of wine.

"What is it, my lovely love?" Daemon asked, never losing the mischievous smile or the smug look.

My frustration only increased, making me cross my arms under my full breasts and shoot a furious glare at him. No words would leave my lips, after all.

"I have something for you." He set the goblet on the small table and went to rummage through one of the drawers. "I imagine it will match your beautiful dress, love."

Oh, may the Valyrian Gods help me, for Daemon knew very well how to bend me...

My scowl faded, and curiosity flooded me the moment a wooden box entered my line of sight. I wanted to keep my angry pose and ignore him for leaving me sexually frustrated—although I had been the one to remind him about the damn dinner awaiting us—yet Daemon was far too charming and knew exactly how to undo me.

"What is it?" I tried to contain myself and not let it show how anxious I was.

I was a thirty-four-year-old woman, mother of eight little pests and future Queen, yet I was still the same spoiled niece who adored gifts from her uncle. And his wide, even more smug smile said he knew that.

"Oh..." My eyes widened when Daemon opened the lid to reveal the contents. "It’s beautiful, husband."

Inside the box, resting on a black velvet cushion, was a gorgeous necklace accompanied by a pair of earrings.

"Do you like it, love?"

I blinked several times to keep the tears away and looked at my twin flame with a wide smile. He looked back at me, his face showing all the love and devotion he felt for me.

"It’s absolutely perfect, my love." I confessed, emotional, turning my attention back to the pair of jewels. "I’m speechless..." My fingers hovered over the necklace.

Eight very thin strands of Valyrian steel intertwined to form the necklace, while small rubies and yellow diamonds adorned it. Each earring had a slightly larger ruby gem hanging at the tip.

"Allow me, my passion."

I stood up, turning my back to him and throwing the long curls with the two braids over my shoulder. Daemon’s heavy, warm breath hit the back of my neck, causing another wave of shivers to run through me. Desire settled in my belly. My husband kissed my shoulder and placed the necklace around my neck. The cold material landed on my feverish skin in a welcome touch.

“You’re so beautiful, Rhaenyra.” His whisper came out a little breathless. I turned, facing him just inches apart, and placed my hand on his cheek. His dark eyes watched me with so much heat and desire. “I need to kiss you.”

My hand slid to his neck, and I tangled my fingers in the slightly short strands. Daemon pulled me closer by the waist, pressing his strong body against mine and making me very aware of how aroused he already was. He let out a low moan, his mouth so close to mine. I rose on my tiptoes and claimed his soft lips in a slow, yet passionate and possessive kiss. He wrapped his arms around me at the same time I parted my lips for the eager slide of his tongue.

“Fuck, how I love you so much.” Daemon whispered, panting softly. He rested his forehead against mine and gave a small smile. “If we didn’t have to go to that damn dinner with that idiot Viserys, I’d fuck you on all fours right now while you wear nothing but your new necklace and pair of earrings, Nyra.”

The heat on my face, neck, and belly intensified.

“Oh, husband, I would love for you to fuck me with your big, delicious cock.” I winked, and he let out a low moan. “Well, now let’s go get your daughters and meet the Royal Family.” I teased, playfully acidic.

Hand in hand, escorted by two Dragon Guards, we left our chambers behind.

Silently, we walked through the corridors of the Heir’s Wing and, within a few minutes, we could already hear the loud, childish voices coming from the royal nursery. Although our rooms were a bit farther than I preferred at the moment, my older little ones occupied the bedrooms near the nursery. Besides that, the Dragon Guards had been stationed at several points, and no one could enter my wing without our permission.

Daemon had already checked Maegor’s secret tunnels and found that no one had used them in a very long time, as they were filthy and filled with countless spiderwebs. He prepared a few traps that would alert us in case of intruders.

“No, Maelys! I’m going to carry it!” Aemma’s high, indignant voice exploded. Then came another round of yelling between the youngest ones, and I could still hear aunt Dhaerys trying to calm the argument. “Alright, aunt.”

Daemon let out a low, muffled laugh, which made me look at him with my eyebrows furrowed. He threw me a relaxed look and shrugged when neither of us said anything right away. Guarding the nursery door, the two Dragon Guards did not move and kept a serious expression, but I could see the shadow of a smile on their lips as we approached.

It was no secret how the Guards and every other servant adored each one of my little pests. Unlike what I’d heard about the upbringing of my half-siblings, my children were being raised to respect and be polite to anyone, noble or commoner.

“Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon.” They both bowed.

“By the sound of it, my daughters are very excited.” Daemon commented, half-teasing and greatly amused. The two Guards nodded. “Thank you, Ser Tobb.” He thanked as soon as the door was opened.

I smiled softly at the two men.

“Thank you.” I murmured, and my smile died the exact moment my eyes saw the chaos inside the nursery. “But what is happening in here?!” I demanded, irritated, my voice coming out loud.

Four pairs of wide, frightened eyes turned toward us at the same time Dhaerys shrugged. My aunt remained comfortably seated in the armchair, reading a book of Valyrian poetry.

“Muña!” The four girls said in unison. I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. Wisely, Daemon did not laugh, although he was pressing his lips together to hide a smile. “We can explain, muña.” Daenna continued, blushing.

My gaze once again swept over the chaotic state of the nursery. Many dresses scattered across the floor and piled on Aemma’s bed, the four girls’ shoes mixed with toys, books, worthless jewelry, decorations, and a few more trinkets.

It was as if a pack of unruly dogs had run through the place.

“Well, I want to hear this explanation, Daenna.” I turned my attention back to my daughter’s flushed face. The other three pests looked at each other and nodded at one another. “So?” I insisted as the silence continued and no explanation was given.

Dhaerys covered her face with the book to hide her wide, amused smile.

“Your muña is still waiting for an explanation, girls.” Daemon intervened, serious, crossing his arms. The four pairs of eyes widened even more, and I had to suppress a laugh. “Daenna? Alyssa?” He looked at the younger two next. “Maelys and Aemma? If you don’t say anything, you’ll stay here with your nannies while we have dinner with the King.”

“Actually, where are Lyla, Jenna, and Hortência?” I asked when I noticed the absence of the three nannies.

At that moment, Dhaerys abruptly closed the book, stood up in one swift motion, and positioned herself in front of the girls. I narrowed my eyes at the five of them, because we knew very well how my aunt encouraged and participated in the messes orchestrated by the four youngest pests.

“I’m making up for the time I couldn’t take part in your childhood, dear niece.” That was what Dhaerys Targaryen always said, with a wide smile on her face. “So please, don’t keep this fifty-year-old lady from spoiling each one of her beautiful nieces.”

“I dismissed the girls earlier so they could rest for the day, and I took charge of getting my nieces ready for the dinner with the Royal Family.” Dhaerys explained softly, without losing her little smile. I shot a suspicious look at my aunt and then at my little ones. “And the nursery is in this tiny state of chaos because they didn’t know what to wear, isn’t that right, my darlings?” She looked at them.

The four girls nodded, agreeing with their aunt. Still, I remained suspicious and felt there was something missing in her explanation. Although it wasn’t uncommon for Dhaerys to stay with my daughters, my maternal instinct whispered somewhere deep in my mind that they were up to something.

“I promise that Daenna, Alyssa, Aemma, and Maelys will clean all this mess with me tomorrow morning as soon as we wake up.” My aunt continued.

Daemon wrapped an arm around my shoulders and murmured seriously:

“Of course, the princesses will clean up this chaos.”

I slid an arm around his waist and placed my hand on his chest, covered by the black jerkin.

“Alright.” I sighed deeply and motioned toward the door. “Now, let’s go, yes? It’s almost time for dinner with the King, my loves.” I smiled and frowned when I saw Maelys holding an old rag doll. “My love, are you taking that doll with you?”

Maelys hugged the doll tighter and nodded her little head, making her adorable silver curls bounce with the excited movement.

“Yes, muña.” She gave a sweet smile. “My doll is also a guest of the King for dinner.”

If I tried to make my youngest daughter leave her ugly one-eyed doll in the nursery, there would probably be tearful protests, a giant pout, watery eyes, and even crying. So, what was the best option? Another tired sigh escaped from deep in my chest, and I decided to agree to the extra guest. Daemon squeezed my shoulder and gave me a kiss on the temple.

“All right, May.” I looked at my other three girls. “Do you also want to bring any special guests?”

Daenna and Alyssa didn’t want to, only Aemma chose to bring a doll that had been a gift from my cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn. That one, at least, was better preserved, had both eyes, and didn’t look like it had survived the Stepstones War.

Outside, we met Visenya, Rhaena, Rhaelys, Helaena, and Aemon standing in the corridor. The atmosphere between them was a bit tense and uncomfortable. I sighed again, and my husband gently took my hand. I turned my head to look at him and was gifted with a gentle smile. Just as it had been for me, he also didn’t like how Rhaelys and Aemon’s relationship had become a mess and how she had been hurt by his foolishness.

“You look beautiful, muña.” Visenya broke the silence and smiled at us lovingly. “You look handsome today too, kepa.” Good-humored, she added when she saw his falsely offended expression.

“Oh! Only muña and kepa look nice today, Senya?” Aemma exclaimed, indignant. She gave her oldest sister an angry look while hugging her doll and puffing out her flushed cheeks. “That’s not fair! I look pretty too.” She pointed at her red dress, with delicate frills.

“Yes!” Maelys pointed a chubby little finger at Visenya, without letting go of the cursed, horrid doll. “I’m pretty like mommy too, Senya.”

We laughed while Visenya looked at her two younger sisters in disbelief.

“May the Valyrian Gods help me with these pests.” She huffed, amused.

The prospect of having to spend time and dine with the royal family was an event—although inevitable and impossible to refuse—that made my stomach churn. It disgusted me so much to think that, in a few minutes, I would be sitting beside the Puppet King and would have to pretend joy at being in their presence, at being back in the place where I was born.

“Good evening, Lord Commander!” I greeted him, a little cheerful. Seeing the man who was my father in all but blood made me a bit less tense and brought a small smile to my lips. “Ser Toron.”

The two knights made a deep and respectful bow to us. Daemon inclined his head slightly to Ser Harrold and cast a suspicious look at the other man. The children greeted them as well.

“Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon…” Harrold’s tone was serious, yet discreetly affectionate. “His Grace and your family await you in the King’s private dining hall.”

I knew the King intended to throw a grand and extravagant welcome feast for us, even though people not too far from the Red Keep continued to starve. On the other hand, at first, he chose to have a dinner held between the two families in the King’s Wing.

“Please announce us, Ser Harrold.”

“Certainly, my prince.” The Lord Commander knocked on the King’s dining hall door and announced in a loud tone: “Princess Rhaenyra, Heir to the Iron Throne, Prince Daemon, her consort. Princess Visenya, Princess Helaena, Prince Aemon, Princess Rhaelys, Princess Alyssa, Princess Daenna, Princess Aemma, Princess Maelys, and Lady Rhaena.”

With great effort, I managed to keep my expression free of any hint of disgust and didn’t let my smile die as we entered the King’s private hall. Wishing to be anywhere else, my gaze passed over every face present, and my nails dug slightly into my husband’s arm. Beside me, Daemon let out a discreet sound of derision. I knew that my children—even the small, adorable pests—could feel the uncomfortable and tense atmosphere hanging over everyone.

“Good evening to you all.” I greeted them with a sweet and false smile. My attention settled on the King’s animated face and, reluctantly, I let go of Daemon to go hug him. “Good evening, father.”

Every inch of my body vibrated and shivered with disgust mixed with anger and contempt when I felt Viserys hug me. He, unlike me, radiated genuine joy, and the wide smile on his wrinkled face proved it.

“Good evening, my dear daughter.” He murmured, cheerfully, and sat back in his armchair. “I’m very happy that you and your husband accepted my invitation.” His gaze moved to my family before returning to my face. “Dhaerys won’t be coming?” There was clear disappointment in his question.

Daemon told me that Aunt Dhaerys had been Viserys’s first love, and he had managed to make her his betrothed—before she claimed Dreamfyre and fled to Volantis during the night. At some point, had the Puppet King ever truly loved Aemma? I believed not, after all he ordered her to be cruelly killed.

“Our sister is not feeling very well, brother, so she asked one of our healers to prepare a sleeping tea, and now Lady Alicent is taking care of her.” Daemon answered in my place while I remained trapped in my thoughts. “Dhaerys sends her apologies for not being able to attend our dinner.”

Viserys frowned, seeming bothered by something, but nodded.

“I hope she recovers soon.” He commented mostly to himself.

My tense muscles relaxed a little when Daemon wrapped an arm around my waist and smiled at me.

“Do not worry, Viserys. Dhaerys is strong and healthy like her own dragon.”

Before he could speak again, we heard a discreet feminine cough and footsteps approaching us.

Diana entered our field of view and placed her hands on Viserys’s shoulders. Despite the falsely gentle smile on her youthful face, her posture was tense, and her greenish-brown eyes could not hide her anger toward us. Her hair was meticulously tied in a bun, and a gold band adorned her red strands. She wore a green dress with a voluminous skirt, long sleeves, and a high collar. The Seven-Pointed Star rested on her chest.

The Queen Consort, Diana Hightower, was the perfect image of a woman devoted to the Seven Who Are One.

What would everyone say when they learned she had a lover for years—and even a bastard daughter?

I had to suppress a mocking smile.

"Princess Rhaenyra..." The desirous look flickered toward Daemon. Uncomfortable, I felt him shift discreetly beside me, and I wished I had Fire Heart to show her what happened when they looked at my husband. "Prince Daemon." Her tone came out softer.

Daemon squeezed my shoulder and didn’t answer her right away, only cast a bored glance at the whore.

"Your Grace." I smiled falsely at her.

She expected us to bow, for a slight sour scowl appeared on her face when we didn’t move a single inch.

"Your Grace," Daemon muttered reluctantly, before turning his attention to Viserys. As always, the King seemed to choose to remain oblivious to the tension between us. "Are we finally going to dine, or just chatter, brother?" He raised an eyebrow.

Viserys clapped his hands and stood, leaning on the golden cane with help from his lovely whore.

"Well, well, let’s dine."

As King and head of the House of the Dragon, Viserys took the head of the long carved oak table, decorated with dragon engravings.

On the left side sat Diana, the worm of the Hand Lord, Baelon and his wife, Aegon, Alysanne, Aemond, Maegella, and Jaehaerys. The Queen-whore and the leech from Oldtown cast discreet, venomous glances at both me and Daemon. My half-siblings looked deeply uncomfortable and cautious, barely lifting their heads to face us or speaking among themselves. Belinda, Jason Lannister’s daughter, looked so small and frightened beside her idiotic, drunken husband. Baelon didn’t hesitate to grab the wine goblet and start drinking.

The atmosphere in the hall was terrible and almost suffocating.

The King asked me to sit at his right. I offered a cynical smile to the pair of snakes when that happened, for after all, that seat belonged to the Queen Consort. Daemon placed his hand on my thigh and watched as our children chose their seats. Visenya sat beside him to keep an eye on Maelys and Aemma. After the younger sisters came Rhaelys, Alyssa, and Daenna. Helaena, Rhaena, and Ameon were the last to sit near the head of the table.

Silently, dressed in very dark green, the servants served a small selection of dishes, wines, water, and juices. I exchanged a brief glance with Daemon, and he squeezed my thigh in response. The claws of Oldtown’s leeches were as deep as I had imagined and feared. Cutting a piece of bread, I couldn’t help but wonder how many people would still be alive after we purged the Red Keep of its rats and vipers.

"I see how you’ve turned the inhospitable Stepstones into a great economic power over the last decade and a half." Viserys remarked, impressed, after I briefly summarized the business in the Stepstones. "I could expect nothing less from my heir." He commented with a wide smile.

From the corner of my eye, I saw father and daughter go subtly rigid. A delicious satisfaction filled me knowing how they burned with rage, for Viserys had kept me as Heir after eighteen years away and even married to the man he so despised. On the other hand, it infuriated me how he stubbornly insisted on belittling Daemon’s intelligence and how responsible he was for the growth of our lands.

"Well, father..." I drank a little wine, set the goblet down, and placed my hand over Daemon’s. He gave me a small smile. Viserys watched our interaction closely. "My husband and I are partners in everything." I returned my gaze to him. "If today we are successful in our islands, it’s because Daemon and I worked together. In fact, he was the one who taught me everything about business, laws, governance, and administration when I had barely been taught how to learn to rule during my first four years as Heir."

Viserys furrowed his brow and lowered his gaze to his plate.

Silence once again fell upon everyone. It wasn’t as if we were having a grand, intimate conversation—certainly not. On the contrary, I kept a gentle smile on my lips, my voice sweet, and spoke superficially with the King. It was all part of our strategy. Daemon would chime in once in a while. Diana, her father, and her children seemed to have no mouths. My own children were behaving unusually well, which was very suspicious.

"I was informed that you dismissed the servants I sent to the Heir’s Wing, Princess Rhaenyra." Diana commented, taking a long sip of wine. Her cold gaze fixed on my face. I simply nodded. "Why? Did they do something to displease you or your family?" She raised an eyebrow.

As if I would ever accept her spies in the middle of my home.

A sarcastic smile began to form on my lips, and I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I focused all my attention on cutting the venison on my plate. I stabbed the meat with my fork and used the knife with a bit more force than necessary.

"No, Your Grace, they did nothing wrong." I looked at her and opened a smile in true Daemon Targaryen style. The same one Maelys said her kepa had that made him look like Cary, the Caraxes. "We’re simply satisfied with our own servants. Besides being with us for years, they already know our customs, tastes, and routines."

Apparently displeased, she grimaced and fired:

"But they’re slaves, right? I heard the Dragon Guards are Unsullied."

"Former slaves," Daemon countered, his arm stretched across the back of my chair. "We keep no slaves under our service."

"In Westeros..." Otto interrupted, frowning. "People will never see those slaves with good eyes. Besides, we do not practice slavery, and the Faith of the Seven abhors it."

"Lord Hand, I imagine you still haven’t managed to comprehend what my grandfather just said." Visenya murmured, cynically.

I turned to look at her. She had a small mocking smile, and her eyes were filled with disdain.

"None of the people who work for us are slaves anymore." She continued. "All are completely free, are paid for what they do, and have the right to come and go. We may have lived in Volantis for eighteen years, where slavery is still common and normal, but that doesn’t mean our family condones such an inhuman and horrible act. The Dragon Guards are former slaves bought by my parents, who chose to serve us when they were freed and now work like any other White Cloak in the Keep."

Otto’s slight scowl deepened and he turned lightly red. Diana stared at my heir with disgust, but said nothing and continued drinking her wine. Her expression was so sour. Pride bubbled inside me, and Daemon let out a subtle sound of approval. Viserys was staring at Visenya with slightly widened eyes, and my half-siblings seemed amused.

"That’s true, Lord Avocado," Aemma murmured with all the seriousness a seven-year-old could muster. I held back a burst of laughter at the nickname. "Mama and Papa don’t have slaves in our family like the other nobles in Volantis." She frowned, annoyed. "My nannies aren’t slaves, and neither are my Dragon Guards."

Daemon flashed a wide grin at our daughter and turned to stare at Otto with disdain.

"Now, have you understood that we have no slaves and we’re not violating your beloved Faith of the Seven, Lord Avocado?" he mocked. I shot my husband a sideways look to reprimand him for repeating Aemma’s gem, but he was too focused on glaring at Otto with that wide, smug smile. "Any more questions about our servants?" His fierce gaze slid between father and daughter.

Aemma remained distracted with her cake, and my children were holding back their laughter. I narrowed my eyes at the older ones and raised an eyebrow at Daemon when he placed his hand on my thigh. He gave me a wink, still sipping his wine. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Viserys; after all, it was time to return to the role of the loving daughter who missed her kepa and her old home.

I was a bit surprised to see him beaming and watching Aemma with joy.

"Your daughters, Visenya and… Aemma…" He swallowed hard when he met my gaze. "They have the same wild, burning fire you do, Rhaenyra."

Still surprised, I tilted my head slightly and considered his words.

"That’s true, brother," Daemon laughed. "These brats have the same wild, burning fire as Rhaenyra." He gave me a loving smile when I looked at him. "No matter which pup we’re talking about, they have a lot of their muña in them." His hand squeezed my thigh tighter.

"Oh, kepa!" Maelys puffed out her cheeks. "I’m not a brat, I’m a princess, your and muña’s pup, the little dragon of the family." She crossed her arms, giving her kepa an irritated look.

Viserys burst out laughing.

"Daemon is definitely right about my grandchildren." He turned to his wife. "Don’t you think so, my love?"

Diana managed to restrain a grimace and forced a smile.

"Yes, my husband."

After resting my hand over Viserys’s on the table and placing a gentle smile on his lips, I pulled him into a peaceful and very superficial conversation. Though I led the topic, Daemon and Visenya added a comment here and there. My older pups and Rhaena busied themselves entertaining the younger pests. Meanwhile, Baelon drank nonstop, Belinda pushed her dessert around her plate, my other half-siblings whispered among themselves, and Otto and Diana stayed silent.

She cast discreet, angry glances at me.

It was easy to pull the Puppet King into a few stories, especially those about my children. I took great pleasure in telling him how Vermithor and Silverwing landed at the Targaryen Fortress a day before the birth of my second set of twins. I smiled broadly as I recounted how the ancient dragons claimed Daenna and Alyssa just hours after they were born, and how they became riders at eight years old. During that, I could see Aemond tense, a spark of envy lighting his single eye.

"It’s so wonderful to know that my grandfathers’ dragons are bonded to my beautiful granddaughters," Viserys commented happily. "I imagine the other dragons must be offspring of Syrax and Caraxes, right?"

Before I responded, muffled whispers drew my attention. I smiled at the King and turned to look at my daughters.

"What are you doing, Maelys?" Visenya asked in High Valyrian, frowning. "You can get that damned doll later."

Maelys shook her head.

"I can’t leave Lady Lysbeth under the table, she might get scared, sister." She widened her eyes dramatically.

I frowned and asked in Valyrian as well:

"What’s going on, girls?"

Maelys turned to me and gave me a huge smile.

"Lady Lysbeth fell under the table, muña, so I have to get her."

Maelys slipped from her chair and crawled under the table. I noticed when Aemma exchanged glances with Daenna and Alyssa. All three looked suspiciously excited about something.

"Did you know it’s rude to speak in a language not everyone at the table understands, Princess Rhaenyra?" Queen Hightower fired off, giving a sour and cynical smile. I narrowed my eyes at the green cow. "It’s unbecoming to leave part of your family out of the conversation."

I raised an eyebrow at her audacity while Daemon let out a low, disdainful laugh. Suddenly, the atmosphere—already balancing on a shaky, fragile line—grew even more tense.

"Unbecoming? Rude?" I repeated, falsely sweet. "If I’m not mistaken, Your Grace, as Queen Consort of House Targaryen, shouldn’t you have already learned the language of my ancestors? As the mother of princes and princesses with half Valyrian blood, it is expected that you would master our tongue. Even my late muña, who, although daughter of a Targaryen princess, grew up in the Vale and far from our customs, learned to speak High Valyrian when she married your father."

Diana’s face reddened with anger.

"Honestly, Viserys, how does your wife, the Queen Consort of a King of pure Valyrian blood, not know anything about our language?" my husband commented with veiled mockery in High Valyrian. The King’s face also turned red, though his looked like embarrassment. "Do your children at least know how to speak it?" He raised an eyebrow when his answer remained silence.

Viserys was more foolish and weak than I had imagined. A King who hadn’t taught his own children the language passed to every Targaryen for generations since the Doom of Valyria. My half-siblings might have that damned Hightower blood mixed in and contaminating the Valyrian, but they were still supposed to learn our ancestral tongue. On the other hand, it wasn’t surprising at all, since it had been Daemon and muña, whenever she could, who taught me High Valyrian.

"There is a cockroach in Her Grace’s hair!" Aemma exclaimed suddenly in a high-pitched scream, pointing a finger at her. "Gross!"

At the same moment, I turned my head toward Diana and spotted a large, hard-shelled cockroach strolling across her bun. I slightly widened my eyes and repressed a laugh. Queen Hightower looked frozen in horror.

"There are two more cockroaches on the Wicked Queen’s avocado dress." Maelys cackled.

Diana let out a sharp scream and stood up abruptly, making her chair’s backrest slam loudly against the floor. Her face turned pale with horror when her gaze fell upon the six cockroaches crawling over her dress. Two wandered across her chest, right over the Seven-Pointed Star. The Queen began screaming in despair and trying to shake off the filthy insects, spinning around the hall.

"More cockroaches!" Maegelle exclaimed, horrified, and jumped from her chair. "Aegon, do something about those horrendous things." She suddenly pushed her brother toward the table, now covered in cockroaches.

Aegon grimaced and stepped back toward Alysanne, who grabbed his hand. I stood as well and moved away from the table, where the cockroaches now wandered freely across plates, food, and every other surface.

"There's another cockroach on your head, Your Grace." Daemon commented cheerfully, lifting a very smiling Maelys into his arms. "Be very careful, after all, cockroaches can bite."

I shot him an incredulous look and received a relaxed shrug in response.

"Get it off! Get it off! Get that off me!" Diana screamed and began running her hands desperately through her hair again. The meticulous bun was gone, the gold tiara lay somewhere on the floor, and her red hair was a complete mess. "Help me, Father!" She stared at Otto in terror. "I think a cockroach got inside my dress and is crawling up my back."

Otto hesitated between helping her or staying at the King’s side. By then, Diana was already crying and ran out of the hall when no one volunteered to help her. Familiar little giggles echoed behind my back, making me turn and face the quartet of girls. They flushed and widened their eyes a bit when they saw me staring at them. My motherly instinct told me that, somehow, their hands were behind this sudden outbreak of cockroaches on the table.

"We will talk later." I whispered in High Valyrian.

They looked at each other and nodded back to me. Before turning to Viserys, I noticed how Maelys’s doll seemed to have shrunk around the belly area. Could it be? I blinked slowly and began putting the pieces together, since that same doll had been very full earlier.

"Well, I think our family dinner ended earlier than expected." Daemon murmured, not even trying to hide his great mood and wide smile. Unlike him, the King looked like the very image of defeat. "I believe this is the moment we wish good night and head to our chambers." He gestured to our children. "Say good night to the King so we can leave, little ones."

"There is your daughters’ hand in this, husband." I whispered, half amused and half annoyed. Daemon laughed softly and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "That damned doll of Maelys is thinner after the cockroaches appeared."

He laughed again and kissed my cheek.

"I will reward them for turning such a boring dinner into an unforgettable moment, my passion."

I rolled my eyes and pinched his ribs. He grumbled, still smiling.

"Don’t even think about it, uncle."

He chuckled again as our little ones finished saying their goodbyes to the King.

♛

 

Notes:

Thank you for reading, my little dragons! 💕🔥

I hope you enjoyed this chaotic chapter — from royal tension to the girls' mischievous little 'surprise.' Poor Diana never stood a chance against that swarm! See you in the next chapter, where things will only get hotter… and even messier.

Chapter 41: Chapter 32.

Notes:

Hello, good afternoon, little dragons! How are you?

Guys, this chapter brings a bit more chaos in the Red Keep (but Maelys and her cockroaches will always be the best chaos), and we’ll have a Small Council meeting. P.O.V. of the hottest and most possessive kepus in this story.

Enjoy the read!

♛

Chapter 32.

"I used to be a lost and lonely soul, but now I belong to a big and noisy family."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

For Daemon Targaryen.

At no moment did the sly, ironic smile leave my lips, nor did the feeling of satisfaction and victory fade away. On the contrary, with every step taken—each one radiating our power and arrogance—toward the cameras of the Small Council, my presumption only grew steadily. At the same time, we were the focus of curious looks and whispers from the people we passed in the corridors of the Red Keep.

The day had barely begun, yet I could already envision a few victories for my Dragon Queen’s side.

"Husband, you're smiling almost like Cary, as our youngest would say," Nyra commented in High Valyrian, amused.

Ever since we had left the Heir’s Wing, she’d been wearing a fake sweet smile directed at almost everyone who crossed our path. Rhaenyra and Visenya greeted people with brief nods, soft smiles, and short exchanges of pleasantries. I, on the other hand, stared each one of them down, analyzing their tense posture and watching how they interacted with them. Though many looked at them with veiled judgment and forced a polite bow, there were also the Black Supporters of the Dragon Princess among the green vipers and rats.

"Everyone must already be whispering about how the famous Rogue Prince remains just as arrogant." The fiery, seductive gaze of my passion sparked in my direction as her full lips curved into a wicked smile. "Not that I’m complaining, of course." She purred, giving me a wink, and dug her red nails into my arm through the sleeve of my black doublet.

My heart sped up.

This woman is going to drive me insane!

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath to keep my cock from starting to stiffen. Knowing exactly how she had affected me, my wife laughed softly at me and turned her head, making the beautiful silver cascade of curls follow the subtle motion. The wicked smile did not fade from her lips. My gaze drifted down from her delicate face and focused on the delicious way the dress made the fullness of her ample breasts even more evident. I tightened my grip on Dark Sister as lust warmed through me.

"Fucking hell!" Visenya, who was walking ahead of us, suddenly blurted out. She was giving us a scandalized look over her shoulder. "May the Valyrian Gods help me." Her face began to flush. "The day has barely begun and you're already in mating mode." She furrowed her brows indignantly.

Rhaenyra laughed softly, her cheeks slightly pink. I pouted at my daughter. Thankfully, it was just the three of us and our Dragon Guards in the corridor near the Small Council chambers.

"I won’t comment on the fact that you and my good daughter are just a younger version of your kepa and me, my lovely girl." Nyra teased, good-humored. Visenya rolled her eyes, though she was turning redder. "Good morning, Lord Commander!" A warm sparkle lit her eyes when she saw him.

"Good morning, my Princess." Ser Harrold inclined his head and turned his gaze to my daughter and then to me. He was the only Kingsguard at the door of the Small Council. "My Prince, Princess Visenya." His thick, graying beard hid his restrained smile. "His Grace has already arrived and awaits you."

The Small Council chambers remained just as cold, dark, and strangely morbid as I remembered. When I was little, during the time when my uncle-father—still alive then—the first Heir of the Old King, Aemon Targaryen, used to take Rhaenys, Dhaerys, or me to those tedious meetings. My grandfather Jaehaerys always made us serve wine as cupbearers. In later years, I was briefly present as Master of Coin, Master of Laws, and Commander of the City Watch, which had always been my greatest pride.

Obviously, I held all those positions for only a very short time, since the Hand of the King was always right there whispering in Viserys’s ear, pointing out how I was unfit for anything. My older brother, who never hid his disdain and aversion toward me, never hesitated to dismiss and replace me. My time as the king’s designated heir while he was still chasing after his so-dreamed-of male heir? Viserys’s face had turned scarlet, and he could barely utter the words naming me Heir to the Iron Throne.

In contrast, Viserys practically sang with joy every time he exiled me again—when he ordered me back to the Vale to lick my wounds beside my wife at the time, the Bronze Bitch.

But times had changed, hadn’t they?

Now, I was the Prince Consort of the Heir to the Iron Throne.

"My dear daughter, my granddaughter Visenya!" The King exclaimed cheerfully as soon as we entered his line of sight. My wife practically floated toward Viserys, and my daughter suppressed a grimace but continued after her muña. " Daemon." His cheerful expression vanished, and the familiar coldness returned to his purple eyes as he glanced at me briefly. " Now, Rhaenyra, come sit in your chair as my Heir."

I couldn’t help but smile ironically.

"Of course, Father." My beautiful wife agreed, a falsely gentle smile lighting up her features. She looked at me and Visenya, nodding discreetly. "Where did my husband and my daughter sit, kepa?" She turned her attention back to the King.

As if she were the very human image of the Goddess Syrax, Rhaenyra sat in her rightful place, in the Heir’s chair of the Iron Throne. I settled at her left and stretched an arm over the back of her chair, the tips of my fingers brushing the soft, bare skin of my wife’s shoulder. Carefully observing the room around us, Visenya stood by my side and rested her hands on the enormous oval table. My passion drew the King into a superficial and gentle conversation, talking a little about the children’s childhood.

Rhaenyra was managing to sink her claws into Viserys and had already begun whispering in his ear.

My wife was so incredible that she had already managed to make the Puppet King grant three seats on the Small Council. One for her, for me, and for our daughter, who was the future Heir to the Throne. She first prepared the ground with more familiar subjects, told him about her time in Volantis, stories about our children, and the lands we had conquered.

The king believed Rhaenyra blindly when she held his hands and apologized for leaving. Her apologies were for having spent so many years away and not allowing Viserys to watch his grandchildren grow up, but she claimed she had never regretted marrying me and making me the kepa of her children.

Viserys swallowed hard when he heard the last part.

"I completely understand and respect your decision to make Baelon the Heir to the Iron Throne now that I’ve returned, kepa." Rhaenyra murmured, her voice low and slightly strained. Confused, he stared at her with a furrowed brow. "My family and I will swear loyalty to my brother when the time comes." She squeezed his hands between hers.

Viserys became visibly more confused than before with her words. I, watching them through the hole in the wall, had to press my lips together and swallow a laugh. My wife truly was something far too clever and cunning, now wrapping the King of the Seven Kingdoms around her little finger.

"What do you mean, my daughter?" Viserys whispered. "What are you trying to tell me? Make Baelon my heir?”

Rhaenyra lowered her head and sniffled softly, which seemed to shock him greatly and make him even more desperate at the same time. She began crying quietly. Viserys pulled her into a tight embrace immediately. Although she hugged him back and the tears flowed down her flushed cheeks, her lilac eyes were fixed on the exact spot in the wall where the hole in the stone was. She looked as if she could see me, for she gave a brief, wicked smile.

A shiver of excitement ran up my spine.

"Oh, kepa..." Her expression became incredibly desolate again when she looked back at him. Her eyes were beginning to turn red and the tears rolled freely. "There are many whispers that you will now make Baelon your new Heir and future King of the Seven Kingdoms." She sobbed softly and once again held his hands. "I truly understand and respect your decision to remove me from the line of succession."

I had never seen Viserys so pale and incredulous.

Three weeks after we set foot in King’s Landing again, we were the newest members of the Small Council.

"Your Grace..." Lyman Beesbury, the Master of Coin, halted when he entered the chamber and saw us beside the King. He quickly regained his composure and bowed. "Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, and Princess Visenya, I am very glad to see you as new members of the Council." He smiled as he went to take his seat at the table.

I nodded, and my daughter gave a wide smile to the old penny-pinching Lord. I knew Lyman had always been one of the few who stood by my wife, ever since Rhaenyra had been a girl of twelve name days.

"Thank you, Lord Beesbury." With a soft, sincere smile, my passion tilted her head to the side. "We are happy to be part of the Council."

Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws, though not surprised by our presence, expressed to Viserys how good it was to have the three of us as members of the Small Council. Rhaenyra as the future Queen and current Heir to the Iron Throne, Visenya as the next Heir, and me as the former Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks.

"Your Grace, it was an excellent choice to bring Prince Daemon to the council." Lyonel murmured as he looked at the King. "I believe your brother can help us with the current situation of the Gold Cloaks, after all, he was once the Commander of these men and knows the streets of the capital far better than all of us."

Viserys struggled to suppress a grimace, and my wife and daughter looked at me with pride in their eyes. I myself did not hold back a wide, ironic, wicked smile.

"I’ve already heard the whispers about how the Gold Cloaks are faring these days, my good friend." I responded, amused. "Before, men tried so hard and lined up just for the honor of receiving a golden cloak, but nowadays, few show such desire or remain honorably in the City Watch."

Viserys’s scowl deepened, much to my silent amusement and satisfaction. Visenya pressed her lips together to avoid smiling, and my beautiful passion raised an eyebrow in my direction.

Ah, I would certainly not spare him the pleasure of showing Viserys what a weak and terrible King he was...

I adjusted myself in the chair and fixed a sharp gaze on the Small Council door, since the other vipers still needed to arrive.

"You’re smiling as if you were Caraxes, kepa." Visenya teased, her voice low and amused. She spoke in High Valyrian. "Not that I’m criticizing you, of course." She gave me a wink.

The first appearance of the green vipers was the cunt that was Grand Maester Mellos. Absentmindedly, I wondered how the gray rat still hadn’t died, since he had already been quite old when we left King’s Landing eighteen years ago. On the other hand, it was excellent that he was alive—though leaning on a cane and dragging his feet—because my wife still had an account to settle with the miserable man.

"Your Grace..." The rest of his sentence died the moment Mellos saw us seated on the King's right side. He swallowed hard, making his jowls shake, and seemed to pale. "Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon..." His slightly frightened gaze settled on our heir. "Princess Visenya." He gave a short bow before dragging his feet to his chair.

My woman and I exchanged a brief look. We both knew that two Lords of the Small Council were on our side.

Tyland Lannister, the Master of Ships, showed a brief grimace of surprise when he saw us, but managed to put on a forced smile and bowed. I bared my teeth at the bastard the moment I caught him staring, and heard a small giggle beside me. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and squeezed my thigh under the table.

The Hand of the King and Queen Hightower were the next and last to arrive. Father and daughter whispered to each other and seemed deeply focused, which greatly increased my excitement. Nyra had managed to convince her father not to tell anyone about our presence as the new members of the Small Council.

Finally, the pair of green cunts noticed us.

"Your..." Otto fell silent and cast a disoriented look toward his Your Grace. Clinging to his arm, Diana turned deathly pale and looked as though she were seeing a ghost as she stared at my wife seated in the Heir’s chair. "Your Grace." He gave a stiff bow.

The other Lords quickly greeted the Queen and sat down to watch the show.

"Husband..." Diana forced a smile and shot a sideways look at her father. "Where should I sit now that the Princess is in my place?"

Hm, perhaps Maelys could throw more cockroaches on Queen Diana’s avocado dress on another occasion, again...

A slow, feline smile began curling on my woman’s tempting lips. Rhaenyra did not move a single muscle that might indicate she intended to get up and give the chair to the whore Queen. Quite the opposite—she continued tapping her fingers silently against the table and stared at her with a profound air of disdain.

I had to swallow hard and restrain the urge to throw my woman over my shoulder and take her to our chambers.

"Your place? I’m sitting in your place, stepmother Lady?" she asked, her voice laced with veiled sarcasm. "I thought this chair belonged to the Heir to the Iron Throne, which, in this case, is me."

Viserys frowned, shifting his gaze between Nyra and his whore wife. The face of Queen Demon, as my daughter Maelys called her, began turning red with fury.

"My daughter is simply used to sitting at Your Grace’s right side these last few years, Princess Rhaenyra, hence the question." Otto jabbed, secretly disdainful. A triumphant glimmer appeared in the whore's eyes. "Since the Heir—meaning you, my Princess—had been away from King’s Landing for two decades, my daughter began advising our King."

Visenya pressed her lips together, and I noticed how her hand flexed toward the sword that was not strapped to her waist. She and my wife had left their blades in our chambers, but both carried a dagger on their thigh and two small knives in their boots. Unlike them, Dark Sister was only inches from my fingers.

My daughters had not been pleased to learn they would have to avoid carrying a sword at their waist, wear dresses more befitting a Princess of the Blood, and behave more like helpless young maidens. All of this to maintain a fragile image that would soon be shattered once Nyra ascended the Throne as Queen.

"It is true, Ser Otto." Nyra sang, smiling softly. "Although it was painful to stay away from my kepa and not allow him to be part of my elder children’s childhood, leaving with my husband for Volantis was, in the end, a wise choice, however..." She placed her hand over Viserys’s and looked at him. "I am glad that my father, our beloved King, understood the reasons that kept me away for so long and granted us official seats on the Small Council."

Father and daughter turned pale, Mellos looked horrified, and Tyland furrowed his brow.

"Wh... What?" Diana stared at my wife, incredulous. "This... What?"

Rhaenyra’s smile grew, as did my desire and pride for this spectacular, beautiful woman.

"I also thank you greatly for having stayed by my kepa’s side throughout these years, my Queen." Nyra continued.

More disoriented, Diana sat automatically beside her father when Ser Harrold found her a chair. Viserys huffed and began the damned meeting, declaring that the three of us were now official members of the Small Council. The best moment was when the Puppet King reaffirmed his wish for Rhaenyra to succeed him as the first Ruling Queen, just as the whispers that Baelon would be named Heir in her place were completely false and venomous.

I delighted in watching the green vipers grow furious at the news, though they could only smile and say that the King was right.

"Your Grace, unfortunately, I must bring terrible news in the midst of this moment." Otto took the floor. Diana stifled a sly smile and looked at my wife with an air of arrogance. "Today, in the early hours after dawn, it came to my knowledge that Prince Daemon was seen on the Street of Silk last night."

Diana’s triumphant air tripled while the old green leech feigned concern as she looked at the King and my woman. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, her expression carefully blank, and did not react immediately. Viserys, on the other hand, turned red and whipped his head toward me so fast I wondered how he hadn’t broken his neck.

"You went to the Street of Silk, Daemon?!" he demanded, his irritated voice booming through the chamber. His nostrils flared. "I cannot believe you had the audacity to betray my little daughter with the whores of Flea Bottom."

Good-humored, I crossed my arms and only offered a smile in response. I would not say a word and would let them walk into their own trap, just as we planned the night before.

"As did Visenya and Aemon." Rhaenyra commented casually, her back resting against the chair. "Indeed, my husband was on the Street of Silk yesterday, but not alone, with the intention of going to a brothel to betray me as the Hand has so shamelessly insinuated."

"Wh... What? How? What do you mean, my daughter?" Viserys asked, stunned.

"Since you reaffirmed my position as your Heir, kepa, I asked my husband to start taking me into the city at night, so that I could see more of the true condition of our people." She held my hand on the table, and her warmth seeped into my heart. "Daemon was not betraying me yesterday." She glared at Otto. "He only went with Visenya and Aemon, because Maelys needed me and I could not accompany them."

The silence deepened and grew more uncomfortable, much to my delight.

"It is the pure truth, Your Grace." Visenya murmured, serious. "Mother could not come with us yesterday because Maelys was a little sick, but Aemon and I went with our father as always. Helaena has gone with us once, and Rhaelys chose to stay with our muña."

The King looked more defeated and even seemed ashamed of his accusation. Otto and Diana went pale again while Lyonel and Lyman tried to hide smiles.

"Why... Why did you not defend yourself, Daemon?" Viserys whispered, almost voiceless.

I opened a wide, ironic smile and shook my head with disdain. My beautiful wife cast me a brief, worried look and squeezed my thigh. So many years later, Nyra still worried that my older brother’s clear contempt and massive lack of trust in me could affect me.

“And would you even listen to me, Your Grace?” I retorted, mocking. “Aren’t you the one who always listens and only takes into consideration the words of your loyal Hand over mine? Would I, supposedly a vile, violent and greedy man, be heard by my own older brother? I don’t think so. After all, I’m forty-six years old and that never happened.”

It no longer hurt, everything Viserys had ever said to me, the unjust exiles I was sent to, and how I was treated like a pariah by the man who was my older brother. It hurt greatly, and many times I wondered why I was so unworthy of my own blood, my own house. Until she arrived at the war, with two dragons in tow and a great deal of courage.

Rhaenyra, my eternal little dragon, was the one who saved me from the darkness I didn’t realize was slowly swallowing me. She and our eight pests were my entire world. Dhaerys, Alicent and their little ones became part of my family, just like the Velaryons, Strongs and Starks.

Before, I was a lost and lonely soul; now I belong to a big and noisy family.

“I... I...”

“My husband is no villain, nor an unfaithful man who would stab me in the back the way so many like to wag their venomous tongues.” My small wife murmured, serious. Her gaze was icy, her voice irritated and her posture defensive. “I will not accept Daemon being accused left and right by anyone.” She stared at Otto. “Why did you have a spy following a Prince of the Blood? Did spying on members of the Royal Family stop being a crime in the years I was gone, Your Grace?”

My heart raced and a knot settled in my throat at Rhaenyra’s furious defense of me. Visenya’s discreet squeeze on my shoulder made me turn my head in her direction. My daughter looked at me with affection and the same ferocity as her muña.

“We are a big, quarrelsome and far too noisy family, kepa, but we will always defend one another.” Visenya once said.

“My daughter...” Viserys tried, and fell silent under a cold stare from her.

“Your Grace, do you allow a mere servant of the Crown to spy on a member of the Royal Family, a Prince of the Blood, like my husband?” Rhaenyra fired furiously. Otto began to turn red, and his daughter looked so lost in the unexpected turn of events. “What should my husband and I expect now?” She turned her irritated expression into one of fear and worry. “That we will also be spied upon inside our own home? That our privacy and intimacy will be violated?”

I pressed my lips together to hide a proud smile at her cunning move. Lyman and Lyonel looked between the King and my wife with curiosity, Mellos and Tyland seemed as lost as the pussy Queen and Otto turned redder and redder. Standing in the most discreet corner of the chamber, Ser Harrold did not smile, though there was a glint of pride in his eyes.

“Princess, I apologize that the news has caused such misunderstanding.” Otto adopted a humble posture and turned toward Viserys. “Your Grace, it was never my intention to cause any confusion or discomfort to the Royal Family. I merely, as a loyal servant of my King and the Princess, informed you of what was told to me by my informants in the city.”

Viserys seemed a little relieved by Otto’s words and turned to Rhaenyra, forcing a smile. Before he could open his mouth, Visenya’s dry and ironic laugh filled the room. We all turned to her, but her eyes were fixed on the King’s loyal Hand.

“I advise you, Ser Otto, to replace your informants in the city. After all, they only had eyes and mouths to slander my father while Aemon and I were by his side during the excursion through the city.” She began to toy with her Valyrian steel dagger between her fingers. “The most ironic thing, Your Grace, is that the Hand’s spies fail to report the pitiful and miserable state of the streets and inhabitants of King’s Landing.”

Viserys’s face was suddenly filled with a mortal paleness and his eyes widened. The years had not been kind to him—his long silver hair sparse, his large belly folded over his trousers, the wrinkles deeper on his face, and his teeth yellowed—yet now he looked as if he had aged far more in mere seconds at Visenya’s revelation.

“What are you saying, Visenya?” he stammered, raising a hand when Otto opened his mouth. “My city... my people... are in a miserable state?”

Visenya nodded.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she murmured coldly. “Your city, your people, are in a lamentable and miserable state.” She gestured between me and herself. “If you doubt our word, my mother and my siblings also walked through the streets.” She took a deep breath. It was a topic that irritated and moved her equally. “While we are here, surrounded by luxury and everything gold can provide, lives are being lost each day right under the Crown’s nose.”

“People are dying from disease, hunger and violence, Viserys.” I spoke after some silence. He looked at me, devastated. “Women of all ages, many mothers with babies in their arms, are selling themselves for any amount just to eat. Children of all ages and the elderly lie on the streets, alleys and corners beside trash, shit and dead animals, hoping someone will help them. And as for violence? People no longer trust one another.”

“Father...” Nyra began, sweet and gentle, placing her small hand over Viserys’s. “Your people need your help before it is too late.”

I was quite surprised when the Puppet King’s face lost its pallor and bright red began to color his cheeks. His anger was no longer directed at me but at his loyal Lord Hand.

“Otto, why was I never informed of such a situation?!” he bellowed and slammed the table, making it tremble. Diana widened her eyes and was prevented from speaking by the green leech. “Why did you claim everything was going well with my people when the reality is the exact opposite?!”

Pale, Otto began to stutter indecipherable words, but he was interrupted by Ser Erryk’s abrupt entrance. The knight was sweaty, breathless and clearly nervous.

“Ser Erryk?” The Lord Commander walked toward his subordinate.

The knight took a deep breath and looked at us urgently.

“Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon...” he blurted. “Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon are in the Throne Room with the healers and Maesters after they fought in the garden.”

Fuck!

♛

 

Notes:

So, what did you think? Please tell me in the comments.

Guys, Viserys is an unbearable and miserable creature, he deserves to be cheated on. Always blaming Daemon and seeing the fat leech from Oldtown as something so loyal, trustworthy, and friendly.

Go fuck yourself, Puppet King!

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH I LOVE RHAENYRA DEFENDING OUR MAN, LITTLE DRAGONS!

What Viserys screws up, Nyra shows how Daemon is the best, and Visenya finishes the job. And this mess, huh? Aemon and Baelon… what do you think happened? Place your bets! Thank you for everything!

See you soon!💕🔥

Chapter 42: Chapter 33.

Notes:

Hello, my little dragons!

♛

Chapter 33.

"Men who assaulted and abused women and children have already died and lost body parts to the blade of Dark Sister in our lands."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

Concerned and angry, my heart beat furiously in equal measure as I forced my legs to run faster through the corridors of the Red Keep. A small part of my mind registered that my husband and Visenya, with our Dragon Guards at their heels, accompanied me.

"Aemon?!" I exclaimed in High Valyrian, being the first to burst through the doors into the cavernous room of the Iron Throne. There was a knot of concern tight in my throat and tears began to blur my vision. "My son!"

I felt a mixture of relief and rage when I saw him.

Aemon was sitting in a chair while two of our healers tended to him. He raised his head as soon as he heard my voice and my legs locked in place immediately after. He had a swollen, purple eye. It was Daemon, cursing in High Valyrian, who broke me from my stupor and made me rush toward our hatchling. As soon as I stopped in front of him, I held his face between my hands and began to search for more injuries. My husband knelt by my side and Visenya went to speak with Healer Luli.

"Aemon, my son, are you alright?" I whispered, anguished. Aside from the slightly swollen and purple eye, there were no other apparent injuries. He nodded gently. "My love, are you hurt anywhere else?"

Daemon stared at him with furrowed brows and a strong glint of concern in his gaze.

"I am fine, muña." He gave a small smile. "You do not need to worry about me."

Overcome by uncertainty, I pressed my lips together and exchanged a quick look with my husband. He was not entirely convinced either. Daemon squeezed our son's knee, drawing his attention to him.

"Aem, are you truly alright?" He insisted. Aemon shook his head again. "What happened? Ser Erryk said you and Baelon fought in the garden, son."

Aemon's face grew dark at the same time he clenched his hands into fists and threw an irritated look in Baelon's direction. My half-brother was surrounded by three Maesters, so his condition could not be seen clearly, although it was possible to hear him complaining and cursing at the men. Aemond was nearby, watching them with an indecipherable and completely silent countenance.

"The bastard was assaulting his own wife in the Keep's garden, kepa." He whispered, furious and disgusted. Horror and shock consumed me. "Lady Belinda did not want to go inside with him yet and wanted to enjoy more of the morning sun with their daughters, but Baelon was demanding she go fulfill her duties as a wife. When she said she would go in later, he shook her violently, slapped her face, and was about to drag her inside by her hair, but I managed to intervene first."

Daemon's entire body went rigid and his face contorted into a deep mask of hatred and disgust. His hand descended toward the hilt of Dark Sister. Now, before us, stood the Warrior Prince who was crowned King of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones 18 years ago, and not my beloved husband.

"So, my dear nephew likes to hit women?" He hissed, his voice sounding dangerously low and deadly. "Is Baelon brave enough to assault his own wife in front of his young daughters?"

"Bastard!" She bellowed, furious, and turned to me, handing me her dagger. Stunned, I simply took the weapon. "Hold this for me, muña."

Visenya advanced toward Baelon as if she were Tennebris, silent and deadly. People moved away from her, as if in fear, and watched her—her face red and eyes dark with hatred—approach her uncle. The Maesters moved away from my brother and he broke into a wide, bloody grin when he saw her. Diana's son had a slightly swollen and purple left eye, a cut on his eyebrow, and on his lower lip.

"Hello, sweet niece!" Baelon greeted her mockingly. "Visenya, I am so glad to..."

The rest of the sentence died on the tip of his tongue the moment Visenya clenched her fist and punched him square in the nose. The sound of bone snapping could be heard, and blood spurted instantly. The chair where he was sitting would have flipped backward if the Maesters hadn't caught it. There were brief seconds of pure, profound silence, for everyone was far too shocked—even Daemon and I—by Visenya’s abrupt action.

Aemon laughed aloud as Baelon began to scream in pain, clutching his broken nose.

"My... nose..." Baelon wheezed, his breath heavy and ragged. His nose was out of place and blood continued to drip, staining his neck, chest, and legs further. He stared at my daughter with such hatred. "Fuck... you... you..." His face turned pale with pain.

A smirk, so familiar to me, curled onto Visenya’s lips.

"If you wish to keep your tongue inside your mouth, I suggest you do not finish that sentence, kepus."

She gave him a wink and walked toward us. Aemon, still completely silent, shot a curious look at my daughter. Daemon gave our daughter a brief smile as I pulled Visenya into my arms and Aemon stood beside their kepa.

"My son! My prince!" Diana began to scream as she finally reached the Throne Room. She turned pale and her eyes widened upon seeing his battered state. "Baelon, my son, what happened?"

She went to embrace him, but stopped as soon as she noticed Baelon’s bloody condition. I had to roll my eyes and heard Visenya chuckle softly. Diana managed to hide a grimace again and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Mo... mother?"

"Yes, my son, it is mother." She began to run her hand through his silver, greasy hair. Baelon murmured something to his mother, which made her go rigid and her face begin to turn red with rage. "The Prince has been attacked! Guards, arrest this savage for attacking my son!" She pointed a finger toward Visenya, who merely raised an eyebrow.

The Kingsguard hesitated, exchanging looks between themselves, the Queen, and us. The Dragon Guards had their hands on the hilts of their swords, awaiting a single order from us.

"No one will lay a single finger on my daughter, Diana!" I roared in a dangerous warning, staring her down coldly. Daemon took two steps forward, ready to attack and defend us if it became necessary. "If anyone should be arrested here, it is this woman-beater you so proudly call your son and prince."

The Green Queen grew more furious and bellowed:

"Ser Criston, arrest this savage and take her to the Black Cells. She will be interrogated for cruelly attacking a Prince of the Blood."

The Dornish lapdog stifled a satisfied smile and drew his sword. My husband unsheathed Dark Sister and prepared to face the Queen's lover when a furious shout echoed through the cavernous room.

"Stop this at once! My granddaughter will not be arrested or taken to the Black Cells for any interrogation!"

Standing at the entrance of the Throne Room, leaning on his gold cane, Viserys stared at everyone with a face red with rage and flared nostrils. Ser Harrold and Ser Erryk escorted him.

"But, husband, this savage attacked our son publicly!" Diana screamed and gestured toward Baelon. "There are witnesses who saw her punching him and breaking his nose out of nowhere. Furthermore, this other savage..." She pointed at Aemon, mad with rage. "Also assaulted him in the garden." She turned her dark gaze back to the King. "Now, do you forbid me from punishing these monsters who attacked my poor boy, Your Grace?"

I let out a loud laugh, overflowing with venom.

"So, my children are two savages, but your son, a cursed woman-beater, is a poor boy and a victim in this story?" I mocked, flashing a wide smile. "Have some decency and admit that Baelon is no victim in what occurred, Diana."

She gasped dramatically.

"Do you hear how your eldest daughter speaks of our Baelon, Viserys?!" Diana turned back to him and pointed her finger at me. Looking her up and down with disdain, I crossed my arms and raised both eyebrows. "Husband, see how Rhaenyra looks at me as if I were the dirt stuck under the sole of her boot!" she barked, her face growing redder.

I laughed louder at her stupid boldness and took a few steps forward, which placed me beside Daemon. He, with a sneer on his face, rested the tip of Dark Sister on the floor and placed his hands over the sword's hilt.

"I speak only the truth, Your Grace," I countered and nodded toward Baelon. The bastard was pressing a bloody handkerchief against his broken nose and did not take his furious gaze off my daughter. "Your son was not attacked out of nowhere, as you claim." I turned to Viserys. "There is an explanation for all of this, father."

Viserys looked carefully between us, his wife, and his wretched son. Meanwhile, the few nobles present, who had been drawn by the shouting, whispered and watched us.

"Explanation?! What explanation?!" The viper shrieked, the red staining her face further. "It is clear that these two savages cornered my son to assault him!"

Crispin stood a little ahead of her, to protect her. The Dornish lapdog did not take his hand off his sword, nor his eyes off my husband. It was almost irritating how he seemed to have a strange and sickly fixation on Daemon. It was quite likely he hadn't moved past the slight thrashing he took during the War for the Stepstones and now wanted a chance for revenge.

"Enough!" The King ordered, with a furious and sharp cry. "I demand to know exactly what happened for two of my grandchildren and my son to be involved in this mess."

Everyone fell silent.

I thought about retorting; however, I chose to remain quiet and had to pinch Daemon discreetly when I noticed he intended to say something witty.

Viserys might be wrapped around my pinky finger, granting us seats as official new members of the Small Council and being more open to hearing me. Despite all the positive progress in our plans, one wrong and miscalculated step could lead us back to square one. The Puppet King had been poisoned for years by the sweet and false whispers of these green snakes, which prevented me, for now, from sinking my claws into his heart and dominating him completely.

"No need to pinch me, passion," Daemon whispered, a bit sullenly. If we weren't in public, he would be sporting a pouting lip. "Later, I’m going to need a little kiss for the pain to go away."

Suppressing a sudden urge to laugh, I rolled my eyes and looked at him askance. A rogue smile lit up his face. Visenya laughed softly and Aemon scoffed.

"Now..." Viserys began, after sitting on the Throne with Ser Harrold's help and striking his cane against the floor to draw everyone’s attention. "What the hell happened?"

Before any of us could speak, one of my daughters drew attention to herself as she abruptly entered the Throne Room.

"I can tell you, Your Grace," Alyssa uttered, her voice sounding serious and haughty. Beside her, holding her hand firmly, Daenna stared at the King with her chin held high and a piercing gaze. "As can Daenna." She gestured to her twin sister.

Viserys seemed quite surprised. Furrowing my brow slightly, I did not look away from my younger twins and was surprised by how serious they were. Visenya and Daemon seemed as confused as I was, though Aemon did not.

"They were with me when I saw Baelon assaulting Lady Belinda," he explained as they approached the Throne, still hand in hand. "The three of us and Helaena were at the training grounds."

Otto finally appeared and went to the side of his daughter and grandson. His face turned red with rage as soon as he saw Baelon's condition and he looked at us. Daemon flashed a quick sneer at the old bloodsucker, draped his arm over Visenya’s shoulders, and returned to watching our younger twins.

"Your Grace." Daenna bowed her head and Alyssa copied the movement. "The two of us and our sister Helaena were with Aemon at the moment he and our uncle traded blows in the garden earlier."

The King, leaning his hands on his cane, leaned his torso forward and signaled for them to continue. Diana even began to protest, but fell silent when the King shot a sharp and serious look at her. She huffed loudly, and Otto shook his head discreetly in her direction.

"We were returning from a light archery practice with our brother and sister when we heard a quiet argument." Alyssa looked him in the eye. "Although we didn’t recognize anyone's voice, we went to see who it was, because one of the people was a woman and there seemed to be children crying as well."

"It was Prince Baelon and Lady Belinda arguing. He wanted her to go inside immediately to fulfill her duties as a wife, but she said she would go in a few minutes later because she wanted to enjoy the morning sun with Aelora and Jaehaera." Daenna murmured and made a face of disgust. "He grew furious upon hearing that, so he quickly shook her, slapped her face, and screamed that he would take her inside by her hair. Fortunately, Aemon reacted and went after him. The two began to fight and stopped when Ser Erryk appeared."

"Liars!" The harlot’s scream seemed to echo in the hall. With her breath coming in loud gasps, Diana’s face was contorted into a mask of pure hatred and her eyes were slightly wide. She seemed somewhat out of her mind. "You cannot believe these two lying girls, Viserys!" She tried to take a few steps forward, but Otto stopped her. "Our son is the only victim in this entire story!"

Viserys’s shoulders slumped a little. The brief spark of fire he had shown in the Small Council chambers was, apparently, merely momentary. Would Baelon go unpunished? Rage snapped inside me and I had to compress my lips to keep from starting to scream. Noticing my tense state, Daemon held my hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

"No, he is not." Helaena’s soft tone sounded like a light breeze in the brief, tense, and agonizing silence. We turned to see her. "Since the Queen Consort does not wish to see what is clear as day, I imagine Lady Belinda herself can tell her version of the story."

Amidst the growing rage, pride emerged, for my sweet Hel always hated being the center of attention and being near fights that did not involve us. Now she walked, holding Belinda by the shoulders to support her, moving among strangers with her head held high.

"Your Grace." Lady Belinda gave a respectful, yet timid curtsy.

I had to stifle a snarl of rage and the urge to use Senya's dagger on Baelon as soon as my gaze fell upon the pale, young face of my good-sister. The red mark of five fingers was still visible on the girl’s pale cheek. Yes, Belinda was a girl—after all, she was only 17 years old. By the gods, she could be my daughter, as my eldest twins were the same age.

Daemon squeezed my hand and I turned, encountering a mixture of emotions warring on his face. Disgust, fury, and a thirst for violence stood out. He clenched his jaw while his purple eyes grew dark and his expression turned more somber.

Men who assaulted and abused women and children had already died and lost body parts to the blade of Dark Sister in our lands.

"By the Gods..." Viserys seemed genuinely horrified to see Belinda's marked face and arms. The girl shrank back in shame, but Hel squeezed her shoulders and whispered to her, which made her nod shyly. "Lady Belinda, please, tell me your side of the story," he requested, in a gentle tone.

A voice whispered in my mind how ironic and painful it was that the same King, who grew increasingly indignant and angry as Belinda told her version of what happened, was the one responsible for ordering his own wife's belly be cut open.

No! This is not the time for that, Rhaenyra!

I shook my head and focused on not allowing the bitterness of the past to surface and interfere with the present; after all, Belinda was the current victim and one story was not linked to the other. I looked at Daemon when he squeezed my hand and met his worried gaze. I smiled discreetly at my twin flame to calm him.

"I am fine, my love," I affirmed in a whisper.

As Belinda recounted exactly what Aemon and my younger twins had told, the few nobles present exchanged shocked and judgmental looks. Soon, the whispers would be traveling through the corridors of the Red Keep and would reach the streets of the City with great speed.

There would be those who would judge and blame my good-sister and argue that Prince Baelon was within his rights as a husband.

"I... I-I... I swear I was going to go in, Yo-our Grace." The girl stammered, after explaining how Aemon saved her from being beaten further by her husband. "To... to try and fulfill my duty a-as a wife..." Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. At no point did Helaena take her hands off her shoulders. "Bu-ut one of the Ma-aesters said the mor-rning sun is good for wo-omen who have had a re-ecent miscarriage..." She broke down into sobs.

Viserys’s face grew paler.

"You lost the baby, Lady Belinda?"

She shook her head, being embraced and comforted by Hel.

"Ye-es... Your... Gra-ace... It has been five days since I su-uffered another mi-iscarriage."

Stunned, I widened my eyes and felt my legs begin to weaken. Was Baelon truly going to drag a child, who had lost a baby so recently, into his bed? The answer was far too clear and obvious. I turned back to find Otto and Diana pale as sheets. My wretched half-brother seemed too dazed to understand the gravity of what was happening in the presence of several courtiers.

"Baelon!" Diana fell to her knees on the floor and began to weep loudly. She stared at him with such feigned desolation while he himself seemed startled by his mother’s outburst. "I can-not... no... I cannot be-elieve you di-id this to my go-ood dau-ughter... Baelon." The tears poured down.

I watched the scene with a bit of incredulity and a strong urge to laugh. I had to admit that my stepmother of a cow was a good actress, and now she was performing the show of a mother horrified by her own son’s actions.

"Gods, this is so embarrassing," Visenya grumbled, with a small grimace. She looked at both of them with contempt and mockery. "Muña, never do that to me, please."

Daemon hid a mischievous smile in my hair, though I could feel him laughing silently.

"Senya, if I ever even think of doing that, ask Tennebris to burn me, for I will have gone completely mad."

Diana continued crying, lamenting and rhetorically questioning how Baelon could have assaulted his own wife and tried to drag her to bed only five days after a miscarriage.

I knew the Hightower Queen was only putting on such a performance to keep her image clean and away from any whispers that might suggest she knew what was happening. The appearance of a kind and devout soul of the Seven, mother of Valyrian Princes and Princesses and perfect wife to the King of the Seven Kingdoms, was something Diana took pride in carrying. However, unlike the foolish nobles who seemed to believe her, I was certain the green viper was never oblivious to the fact that he was assaulting Lady Belinda.

"Please, Ser Erryk and Ser Criston, take Baelon to his quarters and allow no one to enter, nor let him leave until I order it," Viserys commanded, still angry. "Diana, my love, please, come here."

My stomach churned with disgust when the King spoke with such kindness and affection to his Consort. Diana passed by us, sniffing quietly and wiping away her fake tears. Although the King did not stand when she stopped before him, he held her hands between his and the two began to converse in whispers.

"She must have a very enchanted cunt for Viserys to act like such a blind fool in love with that snake," Daemon mocked in High Valyrian. I observed the lovely grimace of disgust on his face and let out a little laugh. "Did I say something funny, my passion?" He broke into a wide smile, which made that damn dimple prominent.

I sighed amorously and was pulled into a tight embrace by him, the warmth of his large, strong body surrounding me like a protective cocoon. My husband had told the truth. Viserys was far too enchanted by Diana—and by Otto’s cunt as well. Despite this, there was a spark of hope that the Puppet King might take some action now that he knew how his loyal Lord Hand had lied and allowed the smallfolk to fall into grave misery in every sense. But then again, I could never trust that he would open his eyes so suddenly.

"Indeed, husband, the cow must have an enchanted cunt." I laughed softly. It was still quite early, yet I felt as if I had trained most of the day with my husband and exhaustion was taking hold of my bones. "Shall we leave? I can no longer stand to look at them." I gestured toward the King and his Queen.

Daemon kissed my forehead and signaled for our hatchlings to follow us. Lady Belinda approached, very timidly and with her head slightly bowed. Helaena squeezed her shoulders, whispered something, and gave a small, encouraging smile.

"Lady Belinda, it is alright." I also smiled encouragingly and held the trembling hands of the girl who could have been one of my daughters. Belinda blushed. "What do you think of you and my nieces spending a few days with us in the Heir’s Wing?"

My husband shot a sidelong glance but said nothing. Later, we would talk. It might be an impulsive decision, and I might be bringing a member of the Greens into my own home; however, at the same time, my heart told me it was the right decision to make.

Many years ago, when I was still a maiden of sixteen, the Goddess Syrax whispered for me to follow my instinct and listen to my heart.

"Princess Rhaenyra..." Belinda swallowed hard. "I... I..." Briefly, she turned her head toward the Queen and went pale, for the viper was staring back at her. "I-I acce-ept... if it is no trouble."

I smiled warmly.

"Of course you won’t be a trouble, Belinda."

Hel nodded and added:

"Muña speaks the truth, Lady Belinda." She smiled gently. "Besides, Maelys liked Aelora and Jaehaera, so the three of them must be playing with my sister Aemma."

A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of my youngest little pest. Maelys Targaryen had been responsible for bringing that cursed old doll full of cockroaches to dinner and leaving the Hightower Queen infested with the disgusting insects. How did a three-year-old girl manage such a feat? Dhaerys heard my four younger daughters saying they would like to throw cockroaches at the Queen Consort if they could, for she looked at me in a way they disapproved of.

My aunt did not hesitate to help them and hide the cockroaches in Maelys's doll through a small opening in its back.

"Shall we go, Rhaenyra?" Daemon called to me.

I shook my head to clear the memory and smiled at my uncle. I informed the King that we were leaving, but promised we would have an afternoon snack with him in the company of the children. Viserys grew excited at the idea, while Diana’s expression was that of someone who had sucked on a very sour lemon.

Perhaps Maelys Targaryen and her cockroaches might return one day...

♛

 

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading, my little dragons!

This was quite an intense chapter, wasn't it? Just to clarify a detail for those who were curious: Tennebris is indeed the name of the Cannibal. As you can see, his fierce spirit certainly matches Visenya's bold attitude!

And speaking of her, I have a little surprise: the next chapter will be from Visenya’s point of view. I can’t wait for you to see what’s going on inside her head after that punch!

If you have a moment, I would dearly love to hear your thoughts. Please consider leaving a comment to let me know what you liked most or what you're expecting next. Your feedback truly warms my heart!

See you in the next one!

Chapter 43: Chapter 34.

Notes:

Goodnight, little dragons! How was your Christmas? I hope it was wonderful.

Help!

I honestly thought I wouldn't have the willpower to post before New Year’s. Currently, it’s summer here in Brazil and it feels like we’re living through a prologue of hell on earth.

HELP ME AGAIN!

Now, focusing on the chapter: today we have Visenya’s P.O.V., featuring mental interaction between her and Tennebris (formerly the Cannibal), and suggestions of violence.

Anyway, shall we? Happy reading!"

♛

Chapter 34.

"I will not hesitate to rain fire upon this wretched Keep if they touch a single hair on your head."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

By Visenya Targaryen

The shimmering light of the candles in the candelabra was enough for me to see where to tread carefully and avoid the countless spiderwebs on the low ceiling. It would be irritating to soil my long, freshly washed silver hair. Rats fled from my path as I walked, and I thanked internally that my feet were protected by leather boots, for it would be dreadful to feel any of the small, foul creatures in contact with my skin.

I shuddered as I recalled that my sweet little sister, that pest Maelys, had put her hands on some cockroaches to throw onto the Queen’s dress.

"We are not sorry, mother." Maelys stated very seriously the day after the dinner, when muña and kepa went to reprimand them. "The Demon Queen looks at our muña in a way we do not like."

Our mother blinked slowly and kepa furrowed his brow, as confused and curious as she was. They exchanged a look.

"What do you mean, Maelys?" she inquired.

"The Demon Queen looks at you as if she were going to push you down a flight of stairs at any moment, muña." It was Aemma who answered, and Maelys nodded her head in agreement, making her lovely curls bounce with the frantic movement. "We do not trust her, nor her father, that Lord Hand of Grandpa King."

Kepa, though surprised, stifled a laugh and looked at my younger sisters with admiration. Mother seemed too perplexed to have an immediate reaction.

"So, Aunt Dhaerys heard us saying that we would like to throw roaches at the Demon Queen and helped us. She caught the insects and managed to trap them inside the belly of that hideous doll of Mae’s." Daenna revealed and earned a piercing look from Alyssa. "What is it, Lys?" She furrowed her delicate brows.

Alyssa snorted loudly, crossed her arms, and slowly shook her head.

"You weren't supposed to tell kepa and muña that Aunt Dhaerys helped us, Daenna."

The twin’s purple eyes widened.

"Oops!"

Father and I burst into laughter.

In the end, none of them were punished, and Mother still had to stop Father from rewarding them for making such a grand mess.

"Do not be so distracted, my girl." The warning from Tennebris came like a caress through the bond we shared. I smiled at him and could hear him snort softly without opening his emerald-green eyes. "You may find more than rats in these tunnels, and I will not hesitate to rain fire upon this wretched Keep if they touch a single strand of your head, Visenya. I also believe Rhaenyra and Daemon will do the same as I."

I knew Tennebris spoke the truth. Just like him and the others, Father and Mother would bring hell upon the earth if any harm befell any of us, their hatchlings.

"I am and will remain safe, Tenny." I sighed softly, turning into a narrow corridor and ducking my head as I passed a low column. "I simply cannot allow this son of a bitch to go so unpunished and return to assaulting Lady Belinda." I affirmed through our bond and felt the rage of the past few days beginning to heat my blood again. "If the Puppet King will take no further measures regarding Baelon’s assaults, I will do something, even if I cannot kill him." I snorted in disgust.

Since our arrival in King’s Landing, I began exploring the silent tunnels built in the time of King Maegor and learning the secret passages my parents told us existed in the Red Keep. My siblings and I spent a great deal of time traversing every corridor, memorizing the exits and entrances, learning where we could step and listen to the whispers when people thought they were alone.

"I would love to burn him, Senya." Tenny grumbled sleepily. "Cursed human."

Although I could not see the environment around him, since his eyes were closed, I imagined that Tenny and Morning remained in their nest at the Dragonpit.

"Perhaps we can make Baelon an appetizer for you in the future, Tenny." Silently, I stopped in front of the secret entrance and peered through the hole in the stone wall. The chamber in question was plunged into deep silence, illuminated only by the light of flickering candles. "I am entering our little rat’s den now."

Tennebris’s only response was a light snore of approval.

I pressed the false stone to unlock the secret door and managed to slide it silently to the left. The passage was not very large, and a tall man, like my kepa and Aemon, would have to crouch to avoid hitting his head. I drew my Valyrian steel dagger and slipped inside without making a sound, finding the little rat’s quarters bathed in profound quiet. Fortunately, tapestries hanging from ceiling to floor helped conceal where I was emerging from.

Despite the chamber being lit only by a few candles, the lack of light did not hinder me. I managed to move without bumping into any furniture. My smile grew until it became wide and cruel as I approached my target. Lying on the enormous double bed, the man did not move, nor could he turn his head or cry out for help when he saw me. He could only hear and see what was directly before his face.

My sincere desire was to torture him physically, making him feel the same pain and fear Lady Belinda felt. However, I could not touch him for now. I would have to settle for terrifying him mentally to keep him away from his wife and daughters, making it clear what the terrible consequences would be if he dared touch them again.

"Mental games are also an excellent form of torture, Visenya." Kepa once murmured seriously.

The infamous Rogue Prince was an excellent teacher in the art of torture.

"Hello, little rat!" I whispered in High Valyrian, revealing my presence beside the bed. Even in the dim light, I delighted in his pale face, damp with sweat and terrified. The only response was the quickening of his ragged breath. "Ah, forgive me, kepus!" I smiled slowly. "I had forgotten that you do not know the language of our ancestors."

Baelon tried to scream, but only a muffled sound came out. He grew more desperate.

Injuries from the fight with Aemon were still visible: the swelling in his eye had subsided, though the purple and greenish bruise remained. The broken nose would be crooked forever, thanks to my punch.

"Well, Uncle Baelon, we have matters to discuss," I continued, ignoring his mounting dread, and smiled with false sweetness. "Let me come closer."

I climbed onto the bed and sat upon his belly, which was covered in furs. Baelon tried to scream, but his lips remained immobile. The Kingsguard would hear nothing. My lips curled into a cruelly playful smile. I leaned forward and patted his cheek.

"Did you know that the Aconitum flower is poisonous and causes muscular paralysis?" I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Mixed with herbs, it prevents speech." I sat back comfortably and toyed with my dagger. Terror surfaced on his face, frozen by the poison. "The best part: the victim cannot taste it when it is mixed into wine."

His eyes widening, his breathing spiked. Baelon tried to pull away. A low laugh escaped my chest.

If he terrified Lady Belinda and her daughters, why shouldn't he feel his own poison?

"You can try to move and scream all you like, but it will be utterly useless, kepus." My gaze flashed toward him, and the cruel smile returned to my lips. "Since you cannot speak, you will blink once for yes and twice for no, understood?" I slid the tip of the blade down his throat.

He blinked once.

"What a good boy you are, Uncle!" I purred and tapped his icy cheek twice more. "I imagine you think my parents are aware of my clandestine little visit, but they are not. Unfortunately, muña and kepa would not allow me to do any of this." I sighed, a bit frustrated.

Meeting the King of the Seven Kingdoms, my grandfather and uncle, was more disappointing than I had imagined. My parents did not hide how Viserys had mistreated them. He ordered my grandmother Aemma to be cut open, tried to sell my muña, unjustly exiled my kepa, and denied aid in the War for the Stepstones.

Eighteen years ago, the Puppet King refused to accept Rhaenyra’s marriage to Daemon, claiming my kepa was vile, violent, and a traitor. He claimed he married my muña only to covet the Iron Throne.

The irony was that Viserys failed to see Otto and Diana Hightower doing exactly what he accused my father of. Thus, it was no surprise when Viserys punished Baelon, keeping him confined for ten days. Furthermore, there were furious shouts from the father to the son, which likely fell on deaf ears.

So, it was no surprise when Viserys punished Baelon, keeping him confined for ten days. Furthermore, there were furious shouts from the father to the son, likely to no effect. Truth be told, Baelon, the firstborn of Queen Diana and the Puppet King, was a spoiled, overprotected, and violent adult man. He believed himself free to do as he pleased, without considering consequences.

Fortunately, my mother convinced the King to keep Lady Belinda and her daughters in the Heir's Wing. She highlighted the frantic whispering in the Throne Room and Baelon’s lack of remorse. Despite this, we could not keep them there much longer. Meanwhile, Belinda relaxed, smiled, and showed her intelligence. The twin daughters, Aelora and Jaehaera, were flourishing. Maelys, Aemma, Aelora, and Jaehaera spent their time playing, laughing, and eating hidden cakes.

I knew this freedom would end upon their return to the Green domain. Therefore, I would ensure Baelon knew the grave consequences if he ever touched Belinda or the girls again.

"I imagine you are wondering how I got in here, right?" I tilted my head and twirled a damp strand of hair around my finger. The wretch’s breathing spiked; he made a useless "hm" sound. The poison would buy me time. "That is not how you are supposed to answer, kepus." I placed my finger over his pale, cold lips.

Baelon's eyes went wide and he blinked once, provoking a sadistic smile from me. My mother always said that my father and I shared a taste for torture, though she herself did not hesitate to employ it when necessary.

"I am his father's niece," she would answer, shrugging, whenever I mentioned it.

"You see, Uncle Baelon, I have some sincerely friendly advice for you. If I were you, I would not trust the people who surround you." I turned my head from side to side and continued in a conspiratorial tone: "They helped me poison you and enter your quarters so easily." I looked him in the eye and let a slow smile bloom. "They helped me for a few gold coins."

It was all a lie, a true game of manipulation to make him believe he was no longer safe in his own chambers—that his loyal servants were not so loyal after all.

Contrary to what I told him, during those ten days he was locked away, I learned the way to his quarters, studied the nightly routine, and noticed how the miserable man lingered in his bath in the chambers located in another room. I took the precaution of testing the door, seeing how heavy and noisy it might be; after all, it had been years since it was used. I was pleased to discover it made no sound when opened.

It was easy to act that night.

My wife knew what I would do and, despite being worried about my safety, Rhaena supported and helped me. Since the wretch could return to walking freely the next day, I slipped into his quarters while he was bathing and singing loudly, and poured enough poison into his favorite wine to paralyze him. The effect was not immediate, so I still had time to take my own bath and return for my visit to the little rat.

"Yes, they helped me, Baelon." I pressed the lie when incredulity appeared on his face. "There are so many servants and guards who do not like you. But now, let us speak of the reason that brings me here."

Leaning forward, my small hand stopped at the base of his throat, and I applied a bit of pressure to frighten him. Baelon’s eyes widened as his breath came out hitched and his face began to turn red. I released him and moved back, never losing my small, satisfied smile.

"Do you see how easy it is to kill you, kepus?" I inquired rhetorically and drew the dagger from my waist once more. Dread turned his face deathly pale again, his breathing still ragged. "I could rid myself of you here and now, and you know the best part? No one would know it was me, nor could they point any finger at my family and prove it." I slid the tip of the blade across his cheek, and tears flowed. "Oh, no need to cry, Baelon."

His tears only increased the moment I raised the dagger and the blade glinted in the candlelight around the bed.

"We can strike a deal now, what do you think? You do as I ask, and I do not kill you in exchange," I suggested sweetly.

He blinked once.

"Excellent." I smiled and sheathed the dagger. "Tomorrow, you will be free again, so I want you to stay far away from Lady Belinda and your daughters." I cast aside the deadly playfulness and adopted a cold, demanding tone. "I do not care if she is your wife and the girls are your daughters; you will stay away from all three."

I could see the rage beginning to surface in his purple eyes.

"What is it? Are you angry now? A second ago, you would have been begging me not to kill you, but you have suddenly become brave," I mocked disdainfully. "I am not joking or asking nicely for you to stay away; I am demanding it, Baelon. I have no trouble introducing you to the Stranger of your religion, but I imagine you do not desire that, correct?"

Baelon blinked once.

"Good boy, Uncle." After patting his cheek, I flashed a happy, cruel smile. "As I was saying: you will stay away from the three of them, you will never again dare to raise a hand to them, and much less will you take Lady Belinda to your bed. She will be your wife in name only and nothing more. Do you understand?"

He blinked once.

"Understand this, Uncle: unlike my parents, I have no problem carrying the title of kinslayer when it is to defend and protect my own."

I whispered perilously: "Those three are more family than you, my mother’s half-brother and my father’s nephew."

My face hovered over his, and our breaths mingled. My calmness contrasted with his irregular breathing. He cried silently, terrified.

I pulled the dagger and pressed it against his jugular. Heavy tears flowed, and the smell of urine filled the air.

"Cross Lady Belinda or the twins' path, and you will wish you had never been born, Baelon," I whispered, brushing my lips against his ear. "Dare touch one of them and you will lose your hands. If you abuse them or demand your marital rights?" I raised my head and stared into his eyes. "I will cut off your cock first, make you eat it, and then I will let Tennebris feed on what is left of your body."

I moved back and sat upright again, without breaking eye contact.

"Do you understand, and will you do as I asked so kindly, Uncle?" I softened my face into something sweet and gentle.

He blinked once.

"Wonderful." I smiled. "Everything we discussed and the poison will be our little secret, right? You won't say a word to anyone, right? That would make me very angry and force me to return."

I hopped off the bed onto the floor as he blinked again.

"Very well." I turned to him and ran my hand over his cold cheek. "It was a great pleasure speaking with you, but now I will leave you to rest and head to my own quarters. And do not worry, the effect will soon pass and you will return to moving and speaking normally." I left a kiss on his forehead and whispered in his ear: "Never forget that I was not joking for a single moment, Baelon."

I furrowed my brow and huffed softly when I saw the two candles were nearly spent. I would have to walk fast through tunnels full of rats and spiderwebs before I was left in complete darkness. Pouting, I took the candelabra and began to retrace my steps. When I reached the tunnel in the Heir's Wing, I drew my dagger and snuffed my candles the exact moment I saw a light approaching from another corridor.

I hid behind a column and waited. It could be someone from my family, yet it was very late for their adventures in King Maegor’s tunnels. I struck like a snake as the person passed in front of me. My hand clamped over the person's mouth—who dropped their own candelabra on the floor with a soft thud—and I placed the blade at their throat.

The person grew desperate, gripped my hand, and tried to speak against my palm. I frowned as I caught a glimpse of the top of a silver head. Instantly, I released them and widened my eyes slightly at who it was.

"Rhaelys?"

In the dim light of the single flame that remained lit, I could see my sister’s cheeks were flushed and she was breathless.

"Fuck, Visenya," Rhaelys cursed under her breath. "You scared the shit out of me."

I blushed.

"Sorry, Elys." I furrowed my brows. "But what are you doing in the tunnels at this hour?"

My sister made a face.

"I'll tell you later, but we need to speak with kepa and muña right now, Senya." Her tone was serious and urgent, which caused a wave of worry to wash over me. I nodded my head in agreement. "Come, let's get Hel, Rhaena, and Aemon first."

With my heart galloping, I followed her in silence.

♛

"I'm going to kill these cunts!" Kepa slammed his fist onto the table, making the structure shake, and glared at muña with a fierce look, overflowing with hatred. "Caraxes will turn damn Oldtown and the Citadel into a new Harrenhal, Rhaenyra."

Unlike Father, who was breathing heavily with a scowl of pure rage, Mother was already calmer and more pensive. They maintained deep eye contact and seemed to converse without uttering a single word aloud. Irritated and apparently frustrated, kepa huffed loudly and looked away, fixing his gaze on the fire crackling in the hearth. Muña sighed softly, reached across the table, and touched him. Instantly, those angry purple eyes locked onto her gentle and loving lilac ones.

"I feel the same, my love," she whispered passionately, squeezing one of his crossed arms. Father softened his scowl and covered her hand with his—much larger and covered in scars. They shared an intimate and secret smile. "Fortunately, we have the advantage over this pack of cunts, and we will bring them down before they can even expect it. We just have to be smarter and not allow fury to cloud our rationality."

Muña’s eyes sparkled with a blend of love and determination as she squeezed kepa’s arm. The intimate smile they shared was a safe haven, a reminder that, together, they could face any challenge. He, now calmer, looked at her with gratitude. The love and respect they felt for each other were palpable.

"Let’s plan our next move," kepa stated, his voice lower and more controlled. "We cannot allow those bastards to get near our dragons, my passion."

Muña nodded, her eyes never leaving kepa’s.

"We will, Uncle."

The tense and heavy atmosphere began to dissipate a little, making room for us to start thinking more clearly.

"But what shall we do?" Aemon questioned, after having been silent for a long time. We, the four oldest children, had been with our parents in their quarters since I found Rhaelys in the tunnel. "We know some maesters from the fucking Citadel are working on a poison to bring down and kill our dragons, but how do we prove it? As much as I love the idea of raining fire upon those bastards, we cannot do so and stain Mother’s reign before it even begins."

While I was paying a "friendly" visit to our Uncle Baelon, Rhaelys had been exploring the tunnels, unable to sleep, and ended up in the Queen’s Wing by chance. Moved by curiosity, she decided to spy on Diana Hightower. That was how she ended up overhearing a conversation between the Green whore and her father, discovering they planned to poison our dragons. According to Otto, if we lost our greatest arsenal of power and destruction, they could usurp my mother’s throne more easily.

"It is no news that the Citadel, the Faith, and the Hightowers are working together." Mother’s pensive voice broke the brief silence. "I wonder how long they have been united to bring us down. Did the plans to topple us begin with you? When I was named Heir? After Maegor Targaryen? Or after the Conquest?"

She stared fixedly at the flames, drumming her fingers on the table and furrowing her brow, as if the thoughts disturbed her. In silence, kepa watched her before gently taking her hand and kissing each of the small fingers adorned with rings. Mother looked up and returned his gaze, affectionate and protective. A small, gentle smile bloomed on her tense face, dissipating some of the strain.

"We will not let them win, nor kill the dragons and usurp you, my passion," Father murmured, his voice low and vibrating with emotion. His words sounded like an act of extreme love, while simultaneously promising fire, blood, and violence. Still holding her hand, he turned and focused on the five of us, his eyes shining with determination. "No one will touch a single hair on your heads, nor those of your sisters, my hatchlings."

The infamous and famous Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, was our greatest protector.

My eyes filled with tears and a knot caught in my throat as I watched them, still holding hands. Kepa and Mother were my greatest inspirations in so many ways. To me, they were the ultimate examples of warriors, rulers, fighters, intelligence, power, and wisdom. They embodied the true meaning of the children of Old Valyria, the House of the Dragon. Moreover, they demonstrated to us, their family, what love, respect, partnership, affection, protection, and devotion were.

My soul yearned for the same love, partnership, and respect they shared.

Rhaena, my sweet and beautiful wife, became my entire world from the moment I understood the depth of our true love and we intertwined our souls into one, through fire and blood, in our Valyrian wedding a year ago.

The Dragon Princess and the Warrior Prince were twin flames. And so were Rhaena and I.

"Are you alright, my love?" Rhaena questioned in a tone only I could hear. I turned my head to the side and met her worried gaze. My heart raced and a warmth spread through me. I sighed softly, admiring her beauty. "You seemed to drift away from the world," she explained when I remained silent, squeezing my hand between hers.

After closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead against hers and whispered in Valyrian:

"I love you so much, my pearl."

Her small palm rested on my cheek, gently.

"I love you very much too, Senya," Rhaena replied in a breath of a voice.

"Well, I think it's best we all go to sleep, yes? It is late, so we can talk and think better tomorrow, my hatchlings," muña commented gently.

I stood up from the sofa and pulled a smiling Rhaena into my arms. Our parents watched us with amused expressions while Aemon, Helaena, and Rhaelys waited for us at the door. I rolled my eyes and pulled my wife by the hand, leading us out of kepa and muña’s quarters.

"Goodnight to everyone!" I grumbled.

Rhaena broke into a wide smile while the others laughed.

♛

 

Notes:

Did you smell that? It’s the scent of Oldtown and the Greens burning in dragonfire.

HAHAHAHAHA!

Little dragons, the next few chapters are going to be wild, I promise you that. So, what did you think of Visenya and her 'affectionate' moment with Uncle Baelon? I absolutely love that she is truly the Rogue Prince’s daughter and takes such pride in it.

Guys, what can you tell me about Aegon, Aemond, Daeron, and Helaena? I’d also love to know more about the Green Queen from the books. Currently, I’m developing a new romance between Nyra and Daemon, so I’d love to learn more about them.

Little dragons, thank you so much!

Chapter 44: Chapter 35.

Notes:

Hello, little dragons!

A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I hope your 2026 has started off in the best way possible.

Are you ready for the first update of our story? We have a brand-new presence joining us, and I really hope you all enjoy it. Well, since I gathered the canon information from Brazilian Portuguese websites, I ask for your understanding if anything isn't perfectly accurate.

Happy reading!

♛

Chapter 35.

"She showed me how we must finish our enemies."

King’s Landing, 131 A.C.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to simply close my eyes and disconnect from my own noisy mind, only to lose myself in the sensation of peace. A smile began to bloom on my lips just as the icy sea breeze, blowing directly from Blackwater Bay, kissed my face and swept my long hair back. I opened my arms, and my simple white dress swayed with the wind.

My bare feet kept me steady atop the same mountain where I married Daemon eighteen years ago.

In a short time, it will be two decades since we joined and intertwined our souls into one, through fire and blood, in a Valyrian wedding. Even so, I can feel the same emotions — the joy, the nervousness, the anticipation, the longing, the respect, the passion, the desire, and the love — warring within me, making my heart beat so fast and leaving me with a knot in my stomach. It was on this very peak that we exchanged sacred vows, and I lived one of the most beautiful days of my entire life.

I opened my eyes again, and Blackwater Bay lost itself on the horizon.

"We were married here as well," a gentle female voice suddenly commented. Although I should have turned to see who it was, I didn't move a single muscle. "It’s funny how I can still feel that not much time has passed since our union, even though it’s been over a hundred years and we are all dead." There was a certain biting humor in those last words.

The sky over Dragonstone remained the same: completely covered by thick gray clouds, without a single glimpse of blue or any ray of sunlight. It wasn’t raining. Despite this, the strong wind was frigid, and the waves crashed violently against the strip of black sand at the foot of the mountain. Behind us, the island's castle rose in all its glory and power of Targaryen ancestry.

"I..." The words died on the tip of my tongue when I turned around and saw who the woman was. My eyes widened instantly, and my heart raced in my chest. We stood staring at each other, the strong wind whipping our hair in every direction. "Queen Visenya," I managed to whisper and was about to kneel, but I stopped at a negative sign from her.

I expected to meet the Goddess Syrax in my dream, not the Warrior Queen herself.

"You look a bit incredulous, Dragon Princess." She tilted her head slightly to the side, a gentle smile playing on her lips. The Queen watched me with a certain curiosity mixed with satisfaction. Although her posture was not at all hostile, she exuded so much power and danger. "Our Gods were very wise to listen to the words of the Goddess Syrax and agree that she should take you as her protégé. You have the true blood running through your veins, Rhaenyra."

I felt my face flush with shyness and pride; after all, it was the Warrior Queen herself, Visenya Targaryen, saying such words. As if she knew exactly what was going through my mind, her smile became wider and more playful. The heat traveled down to my neck, and I also felt the tips of my ears burn.

"You seem very surprised by what I just said, my child." With her hands clasped behind her back, the Queen walked until she stood beside me, and her gaze fixed on the horizon. "But you needn't be; I only speak the truth to you, without any kind of flattery."

I looked back at the horizon as well, the wind kissing my face and throwing my hair back. So far from the coast, the sea and sky seemed to meet in a perfect straight line.

"Sometimes, I think I will fail," I whispered, completely still and with my voice almost inaudible. I felt her curious and serious gaze fixed on my face, although I refused to look at her now. "That I will disappoint my husband, my children, my family, my people, and my Gods, especially the Goddess Syrax, who has protected and guided me for so long." My vision began to blur with unshed tears, so I took a deep breath.

There was a brief silence between the two of us, only the sound of the sea and the waves around us.

"A great and decisive weight has hung over your shoulders since your birth," the Warrior Queen commented, her voice low and her gaze turned once more to the horizon. "Many would not endure this burden given by our Gods, my child."

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and was surprised by how beautiful she was. The paintings in the Red Keep and Dragonstone Castle did not do her beauty justice. The Warrior Queen carried a physical perfection that reminded me of the Goddess Syrax herself: long, silver braided hair, vivid purple eyes, translucent white skin, and a fierce smile. She was a tall woman and exuded power and danger just by her posture.

The fact that Queen Visenya was wearing a black suit of Valyrian steel armor—the same one I stole years ago for the War for the Stepstones—and had Dark Sister hanging at her waist further heightened her aura of ferocity and beauty.

What will Daemon say when he finds out I was with the Warrior Queen in my dream?

I had to suppress a smile, though I began to feel a bit presumptuous at the thought. My husband would be outraged and marveled at the same time; after all, the Warrior Queen was our favorite among the three Conquerors.

"Do you know why our family crest is a three-headed dragon?" She turned to me suddenly and offered a small smile. Still enchanted by her beauty, I nodded in the affirmative. "The three-headed dragon was created to represent Aegon and his two sister-wives." Amused, she rolled her eyes. "What nonsense."

Caught by surprise, I furrowed my brow and tried to recall if I had read about this in her journals. Despite the effort, I couldn't remember anything.

"No?" I tilted my head slightly to the side, observing her with even more curiosity and fascination. She slowly shook her head. "Then, what is the true meaning, Your Grace?" I knitted my eyebrows.

A slow smile illuminated the delicate yet wild features of the Warrior Queen.

"Call me only Visenya, Dragon Princess," she requested, gesturing with her hand toward the left. "Walk with me, please."

Even as I burned with curiosity, I contained the impulse to question her about the reason I was dreaming of her instead of the Goddess Syrax. So, I continued walking in silence, slightly behind her. Visenya walked with tranquility, her hands behind her back and a composed posture. One could tell by the way she acted and carried herself that she should have been a Ruling Queen after the Conquest. Aegon I was a great king. However, the right of primogeniture belonged to Visenya, for to us, the true Valyrians, the one who inherited was the one who was born first.

"Speak, Rhaenyra," Visenya murmured, surprising me. She didn't stop walking, nor did she look back. "I can almost hear your brain burning from thinking about something in particular." There was amusement in her soft voice.

With the strong wind messing up my hair, I quickened my pace to catch up and began walking beside her. She tilted her head toward me and smiled, which made my heart race a little. Truly, Daemon would be livid when he found out I had met the Warrior Queen.

"After conquering Westeros, did you not think of claiming your right as the firstborn and sitting on the Iron Throne as the Ruling Queen instead of being a Consort, Visenya?" I questioned, deeply curious, and stopped walking abruptly. She stopped as well. I licked my lips and continued in a tone louder than the strong wind: "In Old Valyria, the sex between one's legs never mattered, and I know how the three of you were so devoted to our ancestry."

Averting her gaze from mine for a moment, Visenya sighed deeply and seemed to grow pensive.

I bit my lower lip and began to regret opening my mouth, as I might have crossed an invisible line and said something that upset her. I tried to remain still and concentrated on feeling the cold ground beneath my bare feet. Although it was a dream, I could smell the vivid and invigorating scent of sulfur, ash, and the salt of the sea in the air. Despite this, it was not possible to hear a single roar or the powerful beat of any dragon's wings.

"Mind, heart, and soul," she said abruptly, looking back at me. I furrowed my brow but remained silent, waiting for her to explain further. "The Targaryen family crest with a three-headed dragon means mind, heart, and soul. Not that rubbish about Aegon and his two sister-wives." She rolled her eyes with disdain. "I didn't use my position as the firstborn to sit on the Iron Throne because I knew those damn Andals needed a man as the first King of the Seven Kingdoms."

I grimaced and thought of my own situation.

Viserys kept me as his named Heir and had no plans to make Baelon his successor, as the damn Greens had planned in recent years. Despite having stayed away in King's Landing with Daemon and our family, we managed to build and maintain bonds of loyalty with some great Noble Houses and regions on our side, such as Tully, Harrenhal, the Vale, High Tide, and the North. This was possible through strategic marriages, trade agreements, financial aid, the taking of squires for Daemon, and my own influence as the Crown Princess.

"So, we decided that Aegon would be the Ruler while Rhaenys and I would carry the title of Consort to our brother-husband. It was a terrible choice we made, Rhaenyra." Her harsh and angry tone brought me back to reality. Visenya knitted her brows deeply, carrying a dark look on her face, which was contorted into a slight scowl of disgust. "Making my brother-husband the King made him bend too much to those damn Andals and act leniently with the Faith of the Seven."

Visenya began walking again, and I followed her in silence.

"While that idiot Aegon bent to them, those cunts..." she continued, irritated. I had to contain a sudden urge to laugh, for her cursing reminded me of Daemon. "They secretly condemned everything we were—our customs, our Valyrian blood, rituals, dragons, incest, sexuality, magic, and our Gods." She let out a bitter, cold laugh. "To this day, the Faith of the Seven preaches that women must be submissive; they hate bastards, a man who lies with another man or a woman with another woman, and they demonize all religions except their own."

Visenya stopped walking and turned around, surprising me with how furious she looked.

"I had to contain the urge to slit Aegon's throat when that idiot dated the beginning of his reign from the day the High Septon anointed him in the Starry Sept." Her hand found its way to the hilt of Dark Sister. "Rhaenys and I should have burned that lot of cunts in Oldtown along with the damned Hightower, the Citadel, and the Starry Sept. However, we were stopped by Aegon when the High Septon had a vision of what we would do, after locking himself away for seven days and seven nights."

The frigid wind howled between us just as I recoiled from the cold, rubbing my hands over my arms in search of some warmth. I wore only a thin, simple white dress and was barefoot. Visenya, noticing my state, softened her irritated expression into something gentler and removed her heavy cloak. I did not hesitate to put it on and sighed softly as the warmth enveloped me.

"Forgive me, Rhaenyra." She smiled kindly. "I ended up speaking too much."

I shook my head with a small smile.

"It’s alright, Visenya."

"Well, come." She gestured with her hand, and we resumed our walk. "The fact that Aegon bent too much to the Andals and converted to their Faith is one of the main reasons for the problems you and your family face so many years after the Conquest. You see, when he acted with leniency to ensure a false peace between the House of the Dragon and these people, we ended up putting more power into the hands of those serpents than we could have ever imagined."

Little by little, we left the mountaintop behind, and Dragonstone Castle drew closer. The imposing structure, made of black stone and high towers, was exactly identical to reality. However, in my dream, it seemed more mystical, powerful, and majestic.

"Why mind, heart, and soul?" I questioned a moment later, when we finally began to walk upon the grass. I noticed that the Warrior Queen was leading me toward Aegon’s Garden. "Those are three very specific words." I pulled the cloak tighter around me.

The shadow of a melancholy smile appeared on her face.

"As foolish as he was, and despite the way he bent to the cunts of our time, Aegon was the mind, Rhaenys the heart, and I the soul of our relationship, of our marriage." Her voice was low and longing as she seemed to relive the past. "Contrary to what everyone believes to this day, he did not marry me out of duty and her out of love. We joined, by the fire and blood of our house, because we loved each other and were twin flames."

Despite having already read the truth in her journals, it was different and deeper to hear such words coming from the mouth of the very person who wrote them. We walked a bit longer in silence, each lost in our own thoughts, and finally reached Aegon's Garden. We sat down on a wooden bench.

"I never cared what people thought of our relationship; after all, only what the three of us knew mattered." Visenya turned to me with a sad gaze. "We conquered Westeros for a greater good, but it broke us too." She gave a half-hearted smile. "Aegon as King and his generosity toward the Faith was something I never accepted. However, the greatest breaking point between the three of us was when our wife died."

There was a pause between us. I wanted to hug her, but I restrained myself, merely watching her and waiting for her to speak again.

"I already had Maegor and she had Aenys with our husband, but we wanted a child of our own, so I studied and managed to create a fertility ritual between two women." Her face grew more melancholy. "We had our girl, our Maelys. When we lost her to a premature death, we both broke. After that, Rhaenys and our half-brother left for Dorne, where she and Meraxes were killed."

Tears flooded her eyes and mine. Overcome by compassion and the shared feeling of being a mother, I held her hand in mine and squeezed it.

"She was our heart and, with her death, the mind and soul broke as well." Tears rolled down her face. "I distanced myself from Aegon and was consumed by pain, fury, grief, and hatred. I wanted to kill them all with Vhagar, but he would not allow it." She let out a laugh devoid of any humor. "Retaliation on our part could have caused a war that shouldn't have existed so soon after our conquest."

"I am so sorry, Visenya," I whispered, my voice thick and a knot forming in my throat. Tears still blurred my vision. "As a mother, I say: I am so sorry for your loss, and for Rhaenys's."

She wiped away her tears and shook her head, sniffing quietly. Even the legendary Warrior Queen, the rider of Vhagar, Visenya Targaryen, was "human" and showed emotion. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to face me, her eyes bright and reddened.

"Thank you, my child." A faint smile appeared on her flushed face, and she squeezed my hands with hers. "The Gods told me that you and the Warrior Prince named one daughter Visenya and another Maelys."

I nodded.

"Yes, my Heir and successor is named Visenya, and my youngest, my little pest..." My heart warmed, and a slight smile broke through. "She is named Maelys in honor of your daughter, Your Grace. When I read about her in the journals and realized how her existence had been erased from history, I knew for certain I would name a daughter after her."

"Thank you for both names, Rhaenyra. It means a great deal to me." Visenya's face lit up with an amused thought. "Is Tennebris still so grumpy? He hatched in my Maelys's cradle and was always very cranky."

Amused, I rolled my eyes and grumbled:

"Old age is making him even grumpier, but he and Visenya are soulmates." I let out a little laugh.

She laughed too, and we fell into a calmer stillness.

Aegon’s Garden, near the Dragon's Tail, felt like a piece of paradise untouched by human hands on Dragonstone. There were beautiful tall trees on all sides, wild roses—of diverse species, colors, and scents—a variety of flowers, and the grass was as completely green as an emerald.

There was a pleasant scent of pine in the air.

"Maelys died at two name-days old, and we thought it was a terrible flu that took her from us." There was so much pain in her voice.

Visenya raised her head toward the ashen sky and was lost in thought for a moment.

"I was already a witch, but I wasn't as skilled in potions geared toward healing, and the despair of losing her began to cloud my mind, so I couldn't think coherently. The supposed flu killed her within seven days, and not a single damned Maester knew how to help her. The most ironic part is that she fell ill and died so abruptly in the very same year those rats began to walk among us."

A cold shiver ran up my spine at the same time as my stomach churned and I felt the urge to vomit. I remained motionless, looking at her profile and feeling all the pieces finally clicking into place. I wanted to scream in rage, punch anything in sight, climb onto Syrax's back, and turn Oldtown into a pile of flames and ash.

"Your daughter... My mother..." Rage and tears fought within me while a familiar pain of loss ravaged my chest. It was as if I were losing my mother all over again. "All the other Targaryens who died so suddenly, from unexpected causes... Every dead baby? Miscarriage? Oh, Gods!" I took a deep breath.

Tears fell silently down my cheeks. The hole in my chest, the same one that appeared the day I lost my mother, opened once more and began to bleed violently.

"Yes," she whispered, melancholy. "I was so lost in the pain and grief of losing my daughter and my wife, only a few moons apart, that I never realized it. In truth, I can say that I began to lose my mind, Rhaenyra." Her tearful gaze met mine. "I delved deeper into dark magics and gradually lost my own fire over time until I died."

The wind whipped through my hair and through the leaves of the trees, flowers, and bushes.

"It is true that the weight and responsibility hanging over your shoulders are enormous, my child." Her hand covered mine again. I raised my head and was met with a gentle expression, warm eyes, and a confident smile. "Unlike the three of us, you carry the real meaning of the Three-Headed Dragon. An intelligent and sharp mind. A kind and just heart. A warrior soul bathed in the fire and blood of the Targaryens."

My eyes widened, stunned.

"Your husband, the Rogue Prince, also carries the same as you," she continued. "The two of you, you and he, are on the right path; our Gods are growing stronger, and our world is no longer destined to have dragons dancing, Targaryens dying one after another, and the House of the Dragon on the brink of its own fall. However, the Three-Headed Serpent must be killed, and its followers as well."

I furrowed my brow.

"Three-Headed Serpent? What do you mean, Visenya?"

The Warrior Queen offered a gentle smile and gestured for me to look at the sky. I did as she asked and saw nothing beyond the usual ashen tone.

"That cunt Aegon should not have stopped me from burning the Hightower, the Citadel, and the Starry Sept, Dragon Princess."

I turned my head to the left, and Visenya was no longer sitting beside me. In fact, she was nowhere to be found in Aegon's Garden.

"Visenya?" I called out, standing up and looking around as desperation grew in my chest. There was not the slightest sign of her. "Visenya?!" I screamed.

"Rhaenyra? My passion? Please, wake up!"

Abruptly, my eyes snapped open, and Daemon’s worried face was the first thing I saw as I woke to my world. He seemed immediately relieved and sighed softly, though his thick brows were still furrowed and his lips were pressed into a straight line. I tried to open my mouth to say something; however, my tongue felt too heavy. In truth, I still felt confused, my mind oscillating between reality and the vivid dream I had had only moments ago.

"My love, what happened?" my husband whispered, a bit agonized.

He propped himself up on one elbow and rested his free hand on my tear-stained cheek. I took a deep breath, feeling my heart still racing and a sense of desperation in my chest. I ended up crawling into Daemon's arms and relaxed against the protective warmth of his body, tucking my face into his neck. Instantly, he held me tight.

"I woke up to you crying and calling for Visenya, Rhaenyra," he murmured, his voice softer. "I kept calling you, but you wouldn't wake up." His embrace tightened around me. Our chambers were lit by the flickering lights of candles, and the fire in the hearth warmed the room, bringing a sense of comfort and security. "Your dream seemed so restless."

At first, I remained silent, completely still in his arms, feeling the heat of his naked skin against mine.

"It wasn't our Visenya I dreamed of." I lifted my head from his neck and looked him in the eyes. My voice was almost inaudible even to myself. "The Valyrian Gods sent me another dream, kepus." I licked my lips as my heart began to race once more. Daemon just watched me, his brow slightly furrowed and confusion present in his purple eyes."This time, it wasn't the Goddess Syrax waiting for me, but Queen Visenya Targaryen."

Daemon’s gaze grew more surprised.

"The Warrior Queen?"

I nodded.

"The very one." I placed a hand over the left side of his chest, where his heart beat furiously. "She..." A slow and savage smile began to grow on my lips. "She showed me how we must finish our enemies, Daemon."

♛

By Dhaerys Targaryen.

Despite needing a bath to wash the soot and the scent of dragon from my body after spending several hours flying with Dreamfyre, my feet ended up leading me toward the training grounds. The sun had not yet reached its peak in the bluish sky; therefore, my brother and my nephews should still be training.

My lips curved into a smile when I finally reached the training field.

"Get up, Aemon!" Daemon demanded, serious. My nephew was lying on the dusty ground, a slight grimace of pain on his face. Visenya wore an arrogant smile and stared at her brother, amused. "Don't lower your guard just because you knocked your brother down, Visenya," he continued as the boy stood up and gripped his sword again. "Fight!"

Aemon charged with a furious strike, but Visenya neutralized it in mid-air with firm arms and steady hands on the hilt of her sword. The sound of steel against steel echoed through the training grounds. They looked at each other, and she flashed an arrogant smile—the same one her father has displayed his entire life. With agility, she dodged and launched a series of strong, fast, and fierce blows. My nephew tried to counter-attack; however, he could only manage to defend himself as he took blind steps backward.

My niece was a woman slightly taller than average, though still much smaller than a man, thinner, and lacking male physical strength. However, she knew how to transform this "disadvantage" into an advantage during a fight, constantly surprising her adversaries. Her skill as a warrior was refined by her training with Daemon and Rhaenyra, who taught her to treat the sword as an extension of her own arm.

"Defend yourself, Aemon!" Daemon bellowed, standing at the edge of the training grounds.

With a fierce and determined look, Aemon dodged and countered, charging at Visenya with a vertical strike. The blows became more intense and ferocious, the sound of clashing blades echoing through the training field, accompanied by Daemon's shouts.

"Visenya has piqued his interest, muña," my daughter's whisper sounded to my right. "From what I’ve heard, since we arrived, he doesn't interact with anyone other than Aegon, his younger siblings, and his old nurse."

In a distant corner of the grounds, my nephew Aemond, the One-Eyed Prince, watched the training between Aemon and Visenya. The boy wasn't close to anyone and didn't seem inclined to exchange a single word with anyone present. On the contrary, he kept his distance, merely observing with his one eye. He was good at disguising and hiding his emotions, but Daella was right.

"That could be a problem." My brow furrowed, reflecting the unease that washed over me as I observed his silent admiration for my eldest niece. Daella took a few steps forward and turned her head toward me. "We will have to keep an eye on the boy."

She gazed at Visenya, who had won yet another bout, and then fixed her eyes on Aemond.

"Do you think he will try to get close because his grandfather and mother ordered it?" She looked back at me, tapping her fingers on the railing of the high balcony. "To them, Visenya is an unwed maiden and the future Heir to the Iron Throne after Aunt Nyra succeeds the King."

My internal restlessness began to gradually increase.

"It is a strong possibility, daughter," I murmured. "Since Baelon and Aegon are already married."

Daella looked at the One-Eyed Prince again.

"But, what if he falls in love with another woman first?" A slow and cunning smile began to appear on my daughter's face. I raised an eyebrow at her. "I am also a beautiful and unwed maiden, muña."

I sighed, already imagining the future headache that would come when my wife discovered our daughter's mischief.

"Daella..."

"Muña..." She made a pouting, wheedling face. "I will keep him busy and away from Visenya. Besides, he is handsome." Her gaze returned to Aemond.

I sighed again.

"But you will be the one to tell your mother about your plan, Daella."

My daughter's smile made me certain that nothing good would come from that plan to conquer the One-Eyed Prince.

♛

 

Notes:

Darlings, I hope you enjoyed the presence of Queen Visenya, even if it was in a dream. As far as I know, she and Rhaenys didn't have a romantic or physical relationship in canon, but here they were—or are—a couple.

Fuck Aegon!

Now, things are starting to get complicated for the Greens, and the Blacks are moving forward with their revenge.

See you soon!