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[ To watch her smile again, to be able to see the warmth of her, to know that she has returned to him after death - it inspires a sweetness in Daemon that might once be foreign to him. She is someone that he cannot help to adore, cannot help but wish to love and cherish, and yes, to fuck, to press her to the bed and claim her, but there is more, too. She is his wife, lawful and wedded and taken, in the tradition he had wanted for so long.

Does she know, that he would've traded his crown for her, once? That he had begged it of her father, knife to his throat and head throbbing from his cups, wanting nothing more than her hand and her mouth and all that she had to offer? Would she care, if she did?

He had bent the knee to her. She must know where his loyalties lie, now.

Moving with her, allowing her the power to shift his body, to command him, Daemon feels a sharp little thrill inside of him. He is accustomed to being in control, he is accustomed to being the master in the bedroom, the bringer of pleasure, but there's no denying the fact that he enjoys the way she clings to her power here, too. She is his queen, and he had given her his loyalty, so to have her wish for this as well, to chain him to her beside and take from him what she wishes...

There would be pleasure to be found there, too, even if his instinct is to rebel against the notion of being so trapped.

His fingers flex as he watches her, eyes dark, waiting to see what she might do, what she might offer him. ]

Would another death not be regret enough? [ Daemon's lips curl a little, dangerous. ] Iksan aōhon, prūmia.

Yet the decision to see me stay or go will remain in your mother's power.

Or do you no longer heed her words, as any son ought?

[ In the years that they had been apart from one another, whether divided by time, war, marriage, or some combination of the three, Rhaenyra's thoughts had occasionally wandered to the notion of how Daemon preferred to bed and who he preferred to indulge in it with. As a prince, a second son, and a man certainly not bound to the loyalties of marriage, she'd been quite aware of the women he'd strayed to before his first wife had died. The specifics of his proclivities had been unknown to her, but she hadn't been so naive or sequestered a princess that rumor of Daemon's rakish reputation hadn't made it back to her ears in the Red Keep.

Those nights that she'd considered what it would be like if she were the one to be his wife, she'd also lingered on thoughts of how it would be in bed between them — if he would seek to control her, dominate her in every sense, ask her to bend to his whims, or if he would allow her to seize authority every now and then. While the years of their marriage had not been so clearly defined as to force them into specific roles, she'd never once dared to suggest an act of this nature, but judging by the telling gleam in his gaze, perhaps she should have been this impulsive long before now. ]

Iksā ñuhon. Ñuha zaldrīzes.

[ Ties on her bodice unfastened, her fingers slowly part the loosened fabric, revealing the swells of her breasts to him, the points of her nipples already tight and aching for his mouth. Would that she were carrying another of his children now, she thinks; she could feed him in the same manner, guide him into taking sustenance from her body, drawing another part of her into himself. She will give him another heir, perhaps even while they are here, but for now, she is determined to bask in this night above all others. ]

Se kesan kipagon ao hae mēre. [ No wonder, then, that her fingers descend to make quick work of opening his trousers, freeing his cock while his own hands are captured. Her gaze lingers on his, breath gradually quickening, as she rewards him with a series of slow, purposeful strokes. ]

[ Daemon had been cruel to her, in the past, that he is aware of. When he had taken her to the pleasure houses he had hoped to do something - frighten her, perhaps, or to torment his brother, cause friction between them in the wake of his return and his ire. When she had responded so well to him, so wanton and ready for his touch, he had been afraid, slighted; he had expected her fear, not her blatant and easy need for him.

It had consumed him, after, when he had begged for her hand, when he had fled, leaving his first wife to rot, when King's Landing was behind him and his new life settled around him. Coming back to her, claiming her for wife, bonding himself to her in the tradition of their houses, to claim one another in blood and breathless vow was akin to coming home, welcoming him to a place where he had always imagined he had belonged.

Daemon itches to reach out for her, to drag his fingers along his skin, to twist against her nipple and take what he pleases; he would take her in his mouth, squeeze her, drink from her, breast and cunt, claim her with all that she has. He would worship and then take his pleasure. He has always enjoyed their coupling, has loved the way that the sparks between them are like dragonfire itself, and being bound and at her mercy is a strange, exciting turn of events.

Groaning, low in his throat, head tilted back, Daemon sighs, eyes flickering closed. ]

Ñuha jorrāelagon. Gūrogon hen nyke hae kesā. Iksan aōha zaldrīzes, aōha steed, aōhon. Iksan aōha dārilaros

[ For now, returned to life to her, to stay at her side, as guard and consort both, he will permit her to take what she wishes from him. ]

You are not blind, Rhaenyra. It ill suits you to pretend you do not see my mother's fondness for you remains.

[ a sharp and painful point of contention between him and the woman who has given him life. mother to mother, daughter to daughter, friend to friend. what else has rhaenyra claimed for herself? what does it serve her to play at humility now? ]

I am a prince of the realm before I am her son. Just as you are a princess before you are anything else, and we are dragonriders above all.

We answer to duty first, as we should.

Better for her that it did not.

[ she will concede that much, just as she will concede the existence of it, since the conversation has turned to that subject. but even now, she is reluctant to linger on the topic. ]

However you may choose to rule as regent is your prerogative, but do not confuse personal grievance for duty.

Edited 2024-11-13 15:55 (UTC)

[ Rhaenyra won't deny it now: there had been a time when Daemon's loyalty to her had been in question, when she had doubted that his readiness to wed her had been rooted in genuine feeling rather than an effort to remain close to power. Their conversation before his departure for Harrenhal had only furthered that doubt, caused it to firm and grow into something hardened. Yet how easily her walls had crumbled, later, in the face of his unrelenting faith, in the evidence that he finally understood everything Viserys had once confided in her, everything he had sneered at the first time.

She had always craved Daemon's attention; when he had departed King's Landing for years, for his first marriage, for fighting in the Stepstones, after tensions with his brother, she had pretended not to lend a second thought to his whereabouts, even while she'd openly sought out his company upon each and every return to the Red Keep. Now, she realizes it is not his attention she wants, or even to be the fixed point by which he makes every strategic decision — she only desires his devotion to her as a husband, his love for her as his wife and equal, his want carried heavy in his gaze and in his loins. She wants him to burn for her, as intensely as she burns for him.

She is not fully prepared to accommodate him, not yet, even as she shifts forward, the drape of her skirts shielding their lower halves from view, to carefully and deliberately guide him inside her — there is a stuttering drag as she slowly envelops his cock, a lack of ease in mounting him, that forces a hiss out of her, through her teeth. And yet she welcomes the discomfort, the evidence that she is alive enough, present enough to feel such things; she idly considers freeing his hands so that he might be able to arouse her further, but instead she leans forward over him, her bared breasts hovering above his mouth in clear offering. ]

Gūrogon hen nyke. Ñuha zaldrīzes, ñuha dārilaros, ñuha valzȳrys, ñuha ānogar.

[ She doesn't wait before she begins to move over him, the rhythm easing somewhat once more arousal is provoked, and she establishes a slow rocking of hips, gazing down at him with unbridled affection. It takes a moment for her to be fully seated, but then she grinds harder, rubbing herself against the hilt of his length, the sensation eliciting soft, gasping moans. ]

[ personal grievance. and who was it who confused grievance for duty, in the face of a truth made plain to all who could see and hear? ]

Do not start this with me now. I intend to keep the peace between us, but you have no allowance to what patience remains with me. That has long been forfeit.

Let us be our own ways. It's been a long few days.