RED QUEEN | DAEMON TARGARYEN

By isa-tnj

437K 22.5K 5.3K

"It's my duty, my God-given birthright and my crown." - Mary, Queen of Scots In which Valyria Targaryen retur... More

RED QUEEN
ACT I | HALCYON
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
ACT II | PĀX
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
ACT III | RETROUVAILLES
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
ACT IV | BELEAGUER
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
ACT V | POLLEŌ
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTET FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
EPILOGUE
THE END

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

7.5K 419 92
By isa-tnj

THE FRIENDLY DRAGONS
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

119 AC, Sunspear

Valyria remained at court only for a few days before she returned to Dorne with the promise that she'd return soon. It was clear Viserys would only become more ill and she didn't think it was right to leave him to fend off the vipers in court on his own. Alicent and Rhaenyra probably helped in their own ways and at least Lord Strong was a loyal and dutiful Hand, but Valyria still wished to be there.

Ever since she was a child, she felt a pull towards the crown. She'd sit on her grandfather's lap as a toddler when he held court and would often attend Small Council meetings; she was such a quiet and obedient child that her presence rarely bothered anyone.

Now, almost two decades later, Valyria didn't know if she had imagined it or not, but she vaguely remembered her father and grandfather joking about how they were training her for the future. It was no secret Queen Alysanne favoured matrilineal primogeniture. She always had. Jaehaerys on the other hand always had his reservations.

In a way, it was probably good for Valyria to get some distance from court. From the Iron Throne that rightfully should have belonged to her. Those intrusive thoughts plagued her every time she set foot inside the Red Keep. Dwelling on what could have been did her no favours.

The twins were there to greet her when she arrived at Sunspear. Together with her eldest children, Valyria made her way to the nursery. Seeing him again made her wonder how she ever could have left in the first place.

"So," Serra smirked mischievously, "how was court? Did you get the honour of meeting Prince Jacaerys?"

"You knew, didn't you," Valyria narrowed her eyes at her friend in accusation. "You could have warned me!"

"It's true then?" Serra asked, looking eager to receive confirmation of the latest scandal.

"Let us simply say that the Baratheon blood must be really, really, strong," Valyria snorted.

"Strong enough to jump over two generations," Cecily scoffed. "A dark haired Targaryen with two silver haired parents - that is a scandal if anything."

"No one dares to say a word about it," Valyria said with a poorly concealed snort. "Viserys and Rhaenyra both act as if nothing is out of order – and no one else dares to say anything. For as long as Viserys denies it, it's treason to question the birth of the heir's children."

"Did you confront Rhaenyra?" Serra wondered.

"No, I did not," Valyria shook her head. She had considered it. In fact, it was difficult not to confront Rhaenyra about it. After the incident with Daemon and the brothel, Valyria explicitly told the young princess that she couldn't afford any more mistakes. Understandably, Laenor's preferences wouldn't make producing an heir easier. It couldn't be easy but this – it would not end well.

"At least not yet."

.•° ✿ °•.

"Did you enjoy your trip?" Qoren asked, lying on his side on their bed, a sheet thrown lazily over his lower body.

"It was nice spending time with everyone again," Valyria admitted. "After having lived there for so many years, it is weird not seeing them every day. Not knowing what's going on north of the Dornish Marches."

"Don't you have Serra to keep you updated?" Qoren asked, playing with a strand of her hair, almost looking mesmerised by how it shone like newly polished gold in the candlelight of the room. The more time he spent with her, the more he realised how her hair seemed to change shades in different lights.

In the morning sun it would shine like white gold, appearing almost ethereal.

Later on in the day, it would take on the silver-gold hue the Targaryens were known for.

Then when nightfall cast its shadow over all of Dorne and small fires burned to bring light into the castle, it would turn into the colour of spun gold.

"Serra is very skilled at finding out the latest gossip at court," Valyria said, "but it's quicker to find out everything directly from the King – before anyone else has the opportunity to. Serra's – system of gathering information relies on other people knowing."

"King Viserys – he truly trusts you," Qoren said thoughtfully.

Valyria shrugged, "I guess. We are family after all. He knows that he can trust me."

"I can see that. Not every King would allow his widowed cousin to sit on the Small Council meetings, or send her to a dangerous and foreign kingdom to negotiate with and seduce a very, very handsome prince."

"I was not sent here to seduce you," Valyria scoffed, slapping him lightly on his chest. She rolled over onto her stomach, so that she didn't have to look up at him. "Just negotiate and find a way to convince you to abandon the Stepstones. Which succeeded in doing without getting you into bed."

"The reason I abandoned my allegiance with the Triarchy was because you accepted my marriage proposal," Qoren smirked, then he playfully smacked her arse that had become visible when she rolled over. "And then I got you into my bed."

"I had no intention to seduce you, husband. It's not my fault you are so easily entranced," Valyria told him in a matter-of-fact tone. "Had he known you would ask for my hand, I don't think Viserys would have allowed me to leave in the first place."

"And here I thought he absolutely adored me and that is why I know get to fuck his favourite cousin," Qoren said sarcastically, grinning broadly. His hand remained resting on her backside. "Truthfully, I never thought he would accept."

"For a while, you were considered by the Small Council for Princess Rhaenyra," Valyria informed him, taking pleasure in seeing the way her husband's eyes went wide. "Imagine how it would unite the Seven Kingdoms if the future Queen married the Prince of Dorne. Unfortunately for you, all you got was a princess without any lands or titles."

"And I would not change it for the world," Qoren told her sincerely. "If my wife is to have bastards, I'd prefer it if she didn't try to pretend they were mine."

"Qoren, that's treason," Valyria told him, quickly coming to Rhaenyra's defence. Over the years since Rhaenyra was proclaimed Princess of Dragonstone, Valyria had lost count of the amount of times she made up excuses for the younger girls' behaviour or actions. "The tension in court is already palpable without Rhaenyra's claim being questioned further."

"She is a brave girl," Qoren said, laying down on his back. "Brave or stupid."

"Not stupid, simply entitled," Valyria corrected. "Spoiled and pampered even. For years she was the King's only child and while she of course has had her struggles through the years, she's almost sheltered from the real world. Nyra is not stupid enough to not see the danger she is putting herself and her son in, she simply believes it is within right and no one will dare to question it."

"How did you become so wise?" Qoren asked her.

"I think I was a lot like Rhaenyra when I was younger," Valyria admitted. "But it's different for me. I was only the heir's daughter until I turned five, she's been the King's daughter since she was five. I can't say that I haven't been spoiled as well; that I have enjoyed certain privileges for most of my life. But being sold to the highest bidder at the age of three-and-ten opens one's eye to the real world."

"Three-and-ten, that is — quite young," Qoren said. "Much younger than I'd ever allow any daughter of mine to marry."

"I was livid when Viserys told me about the betrothal," Valyria told him. "And a child, so perhaps you could imagine that it was not particularly pretty. For a while, I considered flying away on Ānogara. Fleeing to Essos. Much like my aunt, Saera Targaryen, did when life in Westeros didn't please her anymore."

"Was it your intention to become a rich proprietor of famous pleasure houses," Qoren teased.

"I was three-and-ten. I didn't even know what that was," Valyria deadpanned. "My intention was simply to get as far away from Casterly Rock as I could."

"Yet you stayed," Qoren pointed out. "Why is that?"

"Duty," Valyria said truthfully. "All those privileges I was born with, they have to come with a prize. We who are fortunate in every other way must be willing to sacrifice something. All over the world there are those too poor to feed their families and put a roof over their heads. What right do I have - when I already have all the luxuries in the world - to refuse to make such a small sacrifice for the good of the realm?"

.•° ✿ °•.

"Lykirī!" Valyria's command rang through the air as she approached her dragon who had landed around fifty metres away from a growing crowd. Noticing the discomfort from her dragon, who hissed in the direction of the dornish, Valyria felt the need to calm her down.

It was an idea Qoren, or rather Lewyn, had about showing the people they didn't have to fear the dragons. All they were associated with was the destruction they caused at the command of House Targaryen. Not only in Dorne but the rest of Westeros instead.

The difference was that the kingdoms who bent the knee quickly didn't have to suffer the destruction. The North was evidence of that; Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror before he and his sisters could show them the true power of dragons. Harrenhal was the perfect example of what happened to those who resisted.

Valyria wasn't a stranger to the danger of their dragons. She was also very aware of how little control she really held over Ānogara. How little control anyone in her family had over the winged beasts they bonded with. If Ānogara ever decided to go rogue, burn down a city or eat someone there was little she could do.

Despite that, she put her faith in that as long as she treated Ānogara with respect, her dragon would return the favour. Once a dragon and rider had bonded, that dragon would not allow anyone else to mount it alone while its rider lived, no matter how familiar said person might be to the dragon. That sort of loyalty meant something.

"Māzīs!" Valyria said and Ānogara crawled towards her. Meeting her dragon halfway, Valyria placed a hand against her warm scales, "Good girl. Don't worry about them," she cooed like one would with a dog. "Play along and they will leave you alone."

Ānogara huffed, using her large head to gently nudge Valyria in disapproval. "Don't give me that attitude." Turning around, Valyria's eyes connected with her husband's. He stood beside Lewyn, looking a bit nervous even though he tried to remain confident.

Beckoning him over, Valyria turned back to her dragon and muttered, "Refrain from burning him alive, Ānogara. I'm actually really fond of him."

To make sure nothing happened – not that she thought her dragon would go completely rogue without reason – Valyria stepped back and met up with Qoren before he reached them. "Just remain calm," she told him. "She doesn't bite."

"Because clearly, it's biting that concerns me," Qoren mumbled under his breath. "Not being eaten or burned to a crisp."

"It's not the Cannibal you are meeting today," Valyria rolled her eyes, taking his calloused hand in her own.

"The Cannibal?"

"Canni," Valyria clarified, using the nickname Elara started using. Speaking with him proved to be a good distraction; before Qoren knew it, he stood close enough to the winged beast to reach out and touch the scales. "As long as I am here, she'd never hurt you."

Since he still grasped her hand tightly, she used that to raise both their hands up and she carefully unlaced their fingers to place his palm against Ānogara's neck – going for the head at once would probably only serve to annoy the dragon.

"It's — not what I expected," Qoren noted after a moment of silence.

"And now, we ride," Valyria joked and simultaneously, her husband and dragon looked at her in horror. "That was a joke. Small steps." She'd not force Qoren into a ride – especially not the first time he ever met a dragon properly.

"I did not think anyone without Valyrian blood could ride a dragon," Qoren said, growing more confident for every passing second that he lived. While he still didn't dare to do anything else than gently run his hand against the scarlet red scales, Qoren smiled confidently over to where the crowd of nobles and smallfolk stood gathered, watching their Prince interact with one of the most powerful creatures in the world.

"It is House Targaryen's Valyrian blood that gives us our ability to bond with dragons," Valyria explained, smiling fondly. "And once we are bonded, that dragon won't allow anyone to ride on their own – Valyrian blood or not. No one can ride Ānogara without me there. But you could come with me. The twins have both flown on her with me."

"And have you ever ridden another dragon?" Qoren asked curiously.

Ānogara huffed in displeasure again and Qoren flinched, thinking he had done something wrong. "Lykirī," Valyria chastised. "Don't be jealous, girl." She then turned to Qoren with a reassuring smile, "Aye, the first time. I told you I was around four, you didn't think I did it alone, did you?"

"Was it with your father?" Qoren wondered.

"No," Valyria shook her head. "My cousin, Prince Daemon."

Little Valyria raced through Maegor's Holdfast, slowing down when she reached a staircase — remembering how Aemma always told her to not run down stairs — and once she was down, she began her sprint again.

She had grown tired of her Septa's preachings and after what felt like an eternity, the young princess managed to escape. Her Septa would never chase after her herself, but she'd likely order one of the handmaidens to do it.

Too busy casting glances over her shoulder, Valyria didn't realise another person had turned down the corridor until she smacked into his leg, sending her to the floor with a thud. Groaning in pain, she was about to stand up and continue her escape when an amused voice spoke up.

"Out for a little afternoon run, are we?" Prince Daemon cocked an eyebrow.

"Princesses do not run," Valyria argued, holding her head up high. Despite her young age, she had a well developed mind and mannerism. "They leave most urgently."

"And who are you leaving most urgently?" Daemon wondered, crossing his arms over his chest. Based on the clothes and cloak he wore, it seemed like he was on his way out. "Your Septa?"

Valyria opened her mouth to respond when she heard her name being called. "Help me hide," she told Daemon.

"And why would I do that?" Daemon scoffed.

"I'm," Valyria quickly tried to come up with a reason; in her young mind she felt the same pressure one would when they were seconds away from being caught doing something unseemly. "I'm a princess."

"And I'm a prince," Daemon retorted, smirking down at her. "And I would not risk angering Uncle Daeron or the King by keeping you from your lessons."

Him saying that gave her an idea. Valyria offered her best puppy eyes and let her lip tremble, "I don't think my kepa or grandfather will be happy to hear that you knocked me down – then didn't even help me."

Daemon clenched his jaw as the footsteps and calls grew louder. Then he said, "Hide behind my cloak."

Valyria's expression quickly morphed into happiness and she just managed to hide herself behind Daemon's black cloak as the handmaid turned down the hallway. As she did, she heard Daemon muttering something under his breath about 'manipulative menace'.

"Prince Daemon," the young handmaiden gasped at the sight of the handsome young prince. Despite his growing reputation no maiden inside the Red Keep was immune to the Valyrian looks and charm.

"Did I hear you call for Princess Valyria?" Daemon asked, leaning back against the wall, mindful not to crush her. Hearing her name made her freeze and for a moment she actually thought he'd betray her.

"Yes, my prince," the young girl curtsied, a blush covering her cheeks. "She disappeared from her lessons."

"Yes, I just passed her," Daemon lied. "Prince Daeron was planning on bringing her to the Small Council meeting."

"Oh, I apologise-"

"You can tell Septa Marlow that Princess Valyria's lessons are done for today," Daemon told her, offering a wink.

The blushing and stuttering girl curtsied again and excused herself. When her footsteps could no longer be heard, Daemon said, "She is gone now." He straightened up and allowed Valyria to step out from behind his cloak.

"I thank you, cousin," Valyria told him happily. "Have a good day."

She barely got one step before she felt herself being picked up. Daemon held her up, placing her on his hip, "Not so fast, little princess. I have just lied for you and therefore, I can't have you running around the halls, knocking into unsuspecting servants."

"I won't," Valyria told him, narrowing her eyes at him. With Daemon carrying her, they were at the same height.

"Don't you want to come with me to the Dragonpit?" Daemon asked with a knowing smirk, well-aware that she'd never turn down an opportunity to visit the dragons. "I will even let you sit in Caraxes's saddle."

"I guess I could come with you," Valyria said as Daemon started to walk, still carrying her with him. The young girl was light as a feather to him as Daemon strode to the Red Keep with quick steps. Had she been walking instead, Valyria's short legs would have forced her to run in order to keep up with him.

"And where are the two of you going?"

Daemon stopped in his tracks and over his shoulder, Valyria saw her father and Uncle Baelon. The Prince of Dragonstone and his younger brother were both dressed in fine clothes, fit for court. Valyria smiled at the sight of her father.

"I was trying to find you, uncle," Daemon lied. "I wonder if I could take Lyria to the Dragonpit. She begged me to see Caraxes again."

"That is very nice of you, son," Prince Baelon said dryly, recognising the signs that his son was lying.

"Aren't you supposed to have lessons with Septa Marlow, little dragon?" Daeron asked his daughter, stepping closer to the duo.

"No," Valyria shook her head, shrugging innocently. "We are finished for today."

"Mhm," Daeron hummed, clearly not believing them. "Take a dozen guards with you," he told Daemon. "And keep her safe."

"Of course," Daemon promised his uncle.

"Listen to Daemon," Daeron then told his daughter. "He makes the decisions."

"I promise, kepa," Valyria told her father, who pressed a kiss against the top of her head before he and Baelon left. Daemon took her to the stables and allowed her to ride with him down to the Dragonpit. He made sure to keep her as sheltered as possible, using his cloak to shield her young eyes from the streets of King's Landing.

Once there, Daemon helped her down from the saddle and carried her over to Caraxes inside one of the caves. The red, huge, lean dragon crawled towards the prince and princess like a lizard – or a cat. Valyria's smile widened at the sight of the magnificent dragon. Once she was close enough, she reached out and placed a hand on his snout.

"Be careful, he doesn't like anyone," Daemon teased her.

"He likes me," Valyria argued, narrowing her eyes at Daemon again.

"Who could not?" Daemon tapped her nose playfully. "Now hold onto me tightly, because I can't do it properly when I climb up in the saddle."

Valyria nodded and wrapped her arms around Daemon's neck to not fall as he started climbing up into the saddle on Caraxes's back. Once Daemon was seated, he placed her in front of him. "Are you prepared to fly now?"

Valyria's eyes widened, "Fly? You told our fathers I was going to sit in the saddle."

"I did. I just didn't specify what Caraxes would do at the same time," Daemon said in faux innocence. "Naejot," he then commanded the dragon who moved forward.

"I'm going to fall," Valyria panicked as Caraxes spread his large wings.

"No, you won't," Daemon argued, a permanent smirk on his face. "I won't drop you."

Valyria buried her face in his tunic when she felt Caraxes take off, rising up in the air in a slithering motion. Her eyes were so tightly closed that it almost hurt. Her father and grandfather always told her she was too young to ride a dragon. That such a dangerous thing would have to wait until she was older.

"You can look now, princess," Daemon told her as the flying evened out; now it instead felt like they were floating in the air.

Slowly, Valyria cracked one eye open first to see nothing but the blue sky and when she looked down she saw the ocean through the clouds. And in that moment it was like all her fears washed away.

Instead she felt at ease. At home up in the air.

"Do you want to see a trick?" Daemon wondered, securing an arm around her tighter to make sure she didn't fall – he'd have to flee to the end of the world to escape everyone's rage if he dropped her.

"What trick?" Valyria wondered, turning her head back to decipher his expression.

"This," Daemon said and before she knew what was happening Caraxes went from floating in the air horizontally to flying upwards in a vertical angle.

"Daemon, no, no, no," Valyria told him as she felt Caraxes tip over backwards. When the dragon did a loop in the air, Daemon loosened his arm around her for less than a second in order to trick her into thinking she was about to plummet down into the sea.

The young princess shrieked loudly while Daemon simply chuckled, finding her fear amusing. He had sense enough to not repeat the action and now Caraxes floated above the clouds again. "That was not so terrible, was it?"

"You almost dropped me!" Valyria accused, punching his stomach in anger. Her heart was beating at the speed of a hummingbird's wings.

"No, I'd never drop you, princess," Daemon assured her, feeling a little bit guilty over scaring her. He knew she'd get over it, but he supposed it could be a little bit traumatising for such a young child. "And not just because your father would hunt me to the end of the world."

"I hate you," Valyria muttered, looking forward again instead of him.

"No, you don't," Daemon said confidently.

"I do."

"Do not."

"Do."

"Do not."

"Do – not."

Valyria remembered coming back to the Red Keep after the flight. Daemon had been berated for taking her out flying without permission by their grandfather, both their fathers and Viserys. Then he had been forced to endure Rhaenyra being angry at him for days for not being asked to go flying.

As if noticing that Valyria's thoughts were elsewhere, Ānogara nudged her gently with her head, "I'm fine, girl." Turning back to her husband, she asked, "Do you think we have succeeded in making them trust the dragons just a bit more."

Qoren looked over at the members of his court; while some still looked suspicious and ready to draw their weapons, some were in awe of the sight in front of them. "I do, actually," Qoren said. "Every day you spend here, their distrust for dragons seems to decrease."

"I am glad to hear that I am not making matters worse," Valyria snorted, patting Ānogara on the neck.




________
Slightly shorter chapter today because I've been sick and have not slept properly for a week so my brain doesn't function properly. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed it anyways😊

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