"A dragon might not be the only thing you ride tonight."
|
Where the Dance of Dragons is stopped before it truly begins-with Rhaenyra as the Heir to the Iron Throne, Daemon Targaryen decides to stick it to Alicent and Otto Hightower one last time...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
|
Daenaera laid in Daemon's arms, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady. He held her as they sat on that couch as they had been sitting for an hour now, just silently. There was a quiet and intimate atmosphere in the room, as if the two of them were the only ones in the world, with only the crackling of the fire in the candles around them providing ambience.
The light of the full moon poured through the large windows of her royal bedchamber, casting eerie shadows across the room. Outside, the city was asleep, and the only sounds that could be heard was the occasional shrill cry of a night bird or the distant barking of a guard dog.
There was no talking between them at first, she was content to stay quiet and forget what had happened and he was content to stay and hold her just as he were.
Daemon's arms only loosened for her when she leaned over to grab the forgotten wine from the the table and drinking it, the sweet taste filling her tongue. He watched her, amusement in his eyes. "You drink that wine as though it will save your life," he said with a slight smile.
"Perhaps it will, my Prince," she replied, her voice soft and slurred. "Or perhaps it will take me to my grave." She looked so faraway and pouty, and the red marks on her cheeks from Alicent's grip had only grew darker.
He chuckled and ran a hand through her hair, letting his fingers linger at her scalp. "Why are you so morbid tonight, little dragon?"
"I don't know," she admitted quietly. She leaned back into his chest comfortably and took one of his hands, beginning to play with his calloused fingers. "The night's gloom, the wine, maybe. I feel as though I am drifting in a sea of darkness, with no lighthouse to guide me home." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And yet, here I am, in your arms, feeling more at peace than I ever do around anyone else."
"You are not alone in this darkness. I am here with you navigating these treacherous waters and holding you close," Daemon murmured, resting his forehead against the back of her head. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair, the fragrance of the flower petals she bathed with mixing with the smell from the candles. "I feel as though I've been wandering in the darkness myself for a long time, but you...you are something else entirely." She tilted her head back as he said this, and his fingers glided down her throat, wrapping around it gently.
He kept her still so that he could lean down and place his lips upon hers in a soft kiss.
Daenaera's heart skipped a beat as he kissed her, washing away her worries and fears like a gentle wave. As he pulled away, she leaned her head against his shoulder, taking comfort in the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. "I trust you, Daemon," she said, barely above a whisper. "I trust you with my life, with my heart, with everything I am. And when the darkness feels too much to bear, I know I can turn to you and find the light."
