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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
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RHAENYRA
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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
RHAENYRA
text ❖ audio ❖ video
[ The truth is that she would not be wrong to have doubted him, to have been unsure of his intentions - because he would have taken the mantle for himself, even if he realises now that it is not what he truly desires. If his brother had offered him the throne he would have taken it, but hindsight is a gift indeed - he would not have enjoyed kingship as much as his mind might have thought, once.
Or he would, and his dreams were wrong. Daemon cannot be sure.
None of that matters, especially in this place. None of this matters, because they are here together, they have been welcomed to this realm twinned together, as if the world itself could not part them. The possessive part of Daemon knows it is because she is his, but in the same vein he is hers; her husband, her lover, hers for so long time has lost the meaning of it.
Sighing into the kiss, he nudges their noses, he rocks into her, and he feels the utter bliss of it all. ]
Rhaenyra.
[ It only takes him a flicker of time longer, hands bound and hips chasing her, giving her what she wants. He leans back as he groans, baring his neck as a wild animal might, cheeks heated and warm as he allows himself to come and fill her, all that she might want, ever giving in to her demands. ]
Or he would, and his dreams were wrong. Daemon cannot be sure.
None of that matters, especially in this place. None of this matters, because they are here together, they have been welcomed to this realm twinned together, as if the world itself could not part them. The possessive part of Daemon knows it is because she is his, but in the same vein he is hers; her husband, her lover, hers for so long time has lost the meaning of it.
Sighing into the kiss, he nudges their noses, he rocks into her, and he feels the utter bliss of it all. ]
Rhaenyra.
[ It only takes him a flicker of time longer, hands bound and hips chasing her, giving her what she wants. He leans back as he groans, baring his neck as a wild animal might, cheeks heated and warm as he allows himself to come and fill her, all that she might want, ever giving in to her demands. ]
( it is rare he finds his own name day overshadowed by something he is sure to shake his family, but in a place like this Jace understands there is little in their control. they are all left to react, to roll with punches and support one another when grief strikes. even if, truth be told, he can summon little for the dead in this case. despite that he drew breath again and lived during werewolf because Alicent asked for it.
he aches for his mother instead, for what is lost to her with a dear friend taken. ) Your continued friendship is not one I can claim to always understand, nor support, I am grieve for the ache this loss brings to you. If there is anything you need, mother, I am a shoulder you can lean on. Let us not hide from each other when we most need support.
he aches for his mother instead, for what is lost to her with a dear friend taken. ) Your continued friendship is not one I can claim to always understand, nor support, I am grieve for the ache this loss brings to you. If there is anything you need, mother, I am a shoulder you can lean on. Let us not hide from each other when we most need support.
[ Left on their shared bed are a series of gifts:
🐉 a necklace, in a red box with black ribbon.There's no note, but does there need to be? ]
🐉 a matching ring, because that's his wife baby!!
🐉 one cute little dragon toy, because why not. it's cute. she might like it.
🐉 the silhouettes that emmrich got him, placed on their bedside.
I have been absent, largely because of my own fears in the wake of their games. It has been... difficult, to leave the safety of my rooms when I fight not to view any stranger's face as a potential enemy's.
Yet I cannot help but wonder if such a tragedy would have come to pass if I had mustered up the courage for the sake of one who remains dear to me, despite the sorrow we have visited upon each other.
I intend to meet with Aegon and Aemond, if only to offer condolences. Our grief cannot divide us further, as you have already written yourself.
Yet I cannot help but wonder if such a tragedy would have come to pass if I had mustered up the courage for the sake of one who remains dear to me, despite the sorrow we have visited upon each other.
I intend to meet with Aegon and Aemond, if only to offer condolences. Our grief cannot divide us further, as you have already written yourself.
[ it is a long time, of reading the message again and again, sometimes with tears silently streaming down her face before she remembers to wipe them away, sometimes sitting completely still without a mote of emotion in her expression.
days later, she finally musters up a response. ]
It seems you know much already.
Do you also know the path to my room?
[ it's as much an invitation as anything else, without her actively extending it. ]
days later, she finally musters up a response. ]
It seems you know much already.
Do you also know the path to my room?
[ it's as much an invitation as anything else, without her actively extending it. ]
[ It is torturous, holding herself back at the sensation of Daemon's cock pulsing, throbbing within her as he spills himself at her urging, her demand — but Rhaenyra has eternally been nothing if not determined, resolute, and once she sets her mind to something it can be difficult to sway her in any other direction. When she was younger, her rebelliousness had certainly gotten her in trouble, but she had an increasing suspicion that her more resistant tendencies were exactly the sort of thing that Daemon enjoyed about her — her impulse to challenge, despite being viewed as lesser because of her sex, had often matched his own defiance, even if she had not gone to the lengths he had.
But as he lies beneath her, the column of his throat a straining arch, she bends down to bite at it, more of an absent grazing of teeth than something that leaves a more puncturing mark — and in the moment, her hands are more focused on reaching up to unfasten the belt keeping his wrists tied so that freedom is afforded back to him again. She doesn't need to keep him leashed for this next part, but she doesn't suspect that he'll object once he realizes what her next decision involves. ]
Catch your breath. You'll need it.
[ Her mouth slants upward in a crooked smirk, even as she lifts her hips to let his cock slip from her with an accompanying hiss through gritted teeth. She can feel his seed left inside her, threatening to escape, and instinctively clenches in an attempt to keep it all within, but climbing up the length of his body is a somewhat more difficult task when she has to account for her own skirts. ]
Kesā sagon ñuha dēmalion, valzȳrys. [ Words that take on wholly new meaning when she's making efforts to straddle his face, knees sinking into the pillow on either side of his head, her gaze hungry as it traverses his expression. ] Sir, rijībagon aōha dāria.
But as he lies beneath her, the column of his throat a straining arch, she bends down to bite at it, more of an absent grazing of teeth than something that leaves a more puncturing mark — and in the moment, her hands are more focused on reaching up to unfasten the belt keeping his wrists tied so that freedom is afforded back to him again. She doesn't need to keep him leashed for this next part, but she doesn't suspect that he'll object once he realizes what her next decision involves. ]
Catch your breath. You'll need it.
[ Her mouth slants upward in a crooked smirk, even as she lifts her hips to let his cock slip from her with an accompanying hiss through gritted teeth. She can feel his seed left inside her, threatening to escape, and instinctively clenches in an attempt to keep it all within, but climbing up the length of his body is a somewhat more difficult task when she has to account for her own skirts. ]
Kesā sagon ñuha dēmalion, valzȳrys. [ Words that take on wholly new meaning when she's making efforts to straddle his face, knees sinking into the pillow on either side of his head, her gaze hungry as it traverses his expression. ] Sir, rijībagon aōha dāria.
The one who attacked you has gone without consequences too long. I understand your fear, mother. ( he doesn’t know who attacked him the second time, who took him from the world and he finds he cannot stand with his back to any in the mansion for too long. ) But this is not your fault. Whatever attacked Alicent was not human, if Aegon and Aemond are to be believed. None could have stopped it without putting themselves in danger as well.
I left flowers on our behalf at the wake, as others had. At least to show that we do not take pleasure in this loss and grieve as others do.
I left flowers on our behalf at the wake, as others had. At least to show that we do not take pleasure in this loss and grieve as others do.
[ Daemon does enjoy this, does enjoy the fact that his wife is taking what she wants. When he had done it when they were younger, when he had pushed her into a wall and kissed her, hard and harsh, he had wanted to see her submission, wanted to see her give into him. When she had returned his intensity it had shaken him, then, but now? Now he feels nothing short of adoration, nothing short of something wonderful, and he wants to devour her.
He wants this. He wants her mark, as he wears her ring, as he wears her banner, his devotion for her clear and obvious. He wants to be claimed by her in the way dragons do, in the way that Caraxes and Syrax dance around each other and roar to the skies. He is her husband, her consort, her king, and it burns inside him like dragonfire.
Breathing in, sharp and harsh, he watches as she moves and makes herself comfortable. He is still bound, still entirely at her mercy, but there's no hiding the delight in his eyes as she settles herself over him, thighs either side of his face and the promise of her pleasure there for the taking. ]
ñuha jorrāelagon.
[ Rhaenyra settles down over him, and his hands tug at his bindings in the desire to grasp her, to squeeze at her and take. Instead, he uses his mouth, tilting his head up to immediately slide his tongue along her cunt. He is chasing the taste of himself mingled with her own desire, and he groans softly, pushing himself as close as he can get to her to start to devour her properly. ]
He wants this. He wants her mark, as he wears her ring, as he wears her banner, his devotion for her clear and obvious. He wants to be claimed by her in the way dragons do, in the way that Caraxes and Syrax dance around each other and roar to the skies. He is her husband, her consort, her king, and it burns inside him like dragonfire.
Breathing in, sharp and harsh, he watches as she moves and makes herself comfortable. He is still bound, still entirely at her mercy, but there's no hiding the delight in his eyes as she settles herself over him, thighs either side of his face and the promise of her pleasure there for the taking. ]
ñuha jorrāelagon.
[ Rhaenyra settles down over him, and his hands tug at his bindings in the desire to grasp her, to squeeze at her and take. Instead, he uses his mouth, tilting his head up to immediately slide his tongue along her cunt. He is chasing the taste of himself mingled with her own desire, and he groans softly, pushing himself as close as he can get to her to start to devour her properly. ]
[ he doesn't make her wait. ]
i can find you. i'm assuming you're alone right now.
[ the last thing he wants is to run into anyone else related to either woman. and he thought having one reptilian stepsister was bad.
the days following alicent's death feel empty in a new way, as if with every passing hour he believes less and less that she's coming back despite what everyone says. it's a terrible, shitty thing to say aloud. alicent's dead. you're fucking delusional. he doesn't say it to anyone except himself. after all, he's alive after danny johnson took a knife to his throat, so isn't his beating heart all the proof he needs? (isn't it the proof he needs that he shouldn't be alive, and so alicent shouldn't come back anyway?)
he knocks on rhaenyra's door, thinking about all the times it was alicent's door instead, to coax her out to do absolutely nothing in the maze or the gardens or the library where he'd read hamlet aloud in a dozen different voices. he puts on a face that doesn't look as morbid as he feels. he's here to be comforting, and he can do that as embry moore the politician even if he can't as embry moore the person. ]
i can find you. i'm assuming you're alone right now.
[ the last thing he wants is to run into anyone else related to either woman. and he thought having one reptilian stepsister was bad.
the days following alicent's death feel empty in a new way, as if with every passing hour he believes less and less that she's coming back despite what everyone says. it's a terrible, shitty thing to say aloud. alicent's dead. you're fucking delusional. he doesn't say it to anyone except himself. after all, he's alive after danny johnson took a knife to his throat, so isn't his beating heart all the proof he needs? (isn't it the proof he needs that he shouldn't be alive, and so alicent shouldn't come back anyway?)
he knocks on rhaenyra's door, thinking about all the times it was alicent's door instead, to coax her out to do absolutely nothing in the maze or the gardens or the library where he'd read hamlet aloud in a dozen different voices. he puts on a face that doesn't look as morbid as he feels. he's here to be comforting, and he can do that as embry moore the politician even if he can't as embry moore the person. ]
I trust no one else with this.
( it is not quite an hour later when Jacaerys makes his way to the stables. it is not an odd sight if he is seen, for he has taken to riding when time allows. and there is plenty of allowance. at least there had been, before the walls of the manse no longer felt safe.
dressed in a winter cloak and attire more fitting of their home than the more modern outfits he has dabbled in, he waits for his mother near one of the stalls. it houses a mare he has taken on his ride and as he waits, Jace feeds the chestnut creature a carrot he has brought from the kitchens and hums a soft tune -- a sailor's song, one taught to him by a noble father no longer alive and loved best by a brother lost to the sea.
he stops only when he hears footsteps approach and turns, bows when he sees it is his mother. ) I did not pull you from anything of import, I hope.
( it is not quite an hour later when Jacaerys makes his way to the stables. it is not an odd sight if he is seen, for he has taken to riding when time allows. and there is plenty of allowance. at least there had been, before the walls of the manse no longer felt safe.
dressed in a winter cloak and attire more fitting of their home than the more modern outfits he has dabbled in, he waits for his mother near one of the stalls. it houses a mare he has taken on his ride and as he waits, Jace feeds the chestnut creature a carrot he has brought from the kitchens and hums a soft tune -- a sailor's song, one taught to him by a noble father no longer alive and loved best by a brother lost to the sea.
he stops only when he hears footsteps approach and turns, bows when he sees it is his mother. ) I did not pull you from anything of import, I hope.
I do not want to give any of our enemies the satisfaction of witnessing me cowed. Yet I do not trust our hosts, fully, to protect us when so many have lain dead at their feet. Whether resurrection is indeed possible or not, the truth remains that we are not wholly safe here.
Their games succeeded at uniting us, for a time, despite our grievances. Any bloodshed now would be excessive and unnecessary, but the strife within our family is ours to be concerned with, not the business of any outsiders.
Their games succeeded at uniting us, for a time, despite our grievances. Any bloodshed now would be excessive and unnecessary, but the strife within our family is ours to be concerned with, not the business of any outsiders.
[ Rhaenyra is similarly dressed for colder weather now — much less forgiving than even their family seat on Dragonstone often boasts, closer to what Jacaerys likely endured during his visit to Winterfell on her behalf. Snow crunches beneath her boots as she ventures from her and Daemon's rooms to the stables, and while her gaze occasionally darts behind her, verifying that no one has followed her, the path she takes is one that would make it difficult for anyone to stalk her without the snow-covered path giving away their presence.
Of course, Jace is already standing there in wait for her when she enters, stepping across straw-covered floors into a more heated exterior. Here, the horses are well-kept, protected from the cold, blankets draped over their backs, but their breaths are visible at this hour, soft exhales and nickers occasionally emerging from the various stalls. ]
Your message seemed rather imperative. [ And Rhaenyra has often made an effort not to keep her son waiting, even before their arrival here, now that he has grown into someone she trusts significantly more than her own small council. She approaches quietly, reaching out to set a careful hand on Jace's shoulder. ] Are you well?
Of course, Jace is already standing there in wait for her when she enters, stepping across straw-covered floors into a more heated exterior. Here, the horses are well-kept, protected from the cold, blankets draped over their backs, but their breaths are visible at this hour, soft exhales and nickers occasionally emerging from the various stalls. ]
Your message seemed rather imperative. [ And Rhaenyra has often made an effort not to keep her son waiting, even before their arrival here, now that he has grown into someone she trusts significantly more than her own small council. She approaches quietly, reaching out to set a careful hand on Jace's shoulder. ] Are you well?
[ The fact that Daemon had been willing to submit himself into her hands, to give over control of this coupling to her, only arouses Rhaenyra further, but there is something about the idea of using him as her throne in the most illicit, depraved sense that makes her unmistakably wet, all but dripping as she finally settles herself over his face and he lifts his chin to meet her with the initial slide of his tongue over her cunt.
She's sensitive, already, from riding him, but in a way that renders every further lick and stroke that much more enjoyable. Still, something's missing even in this, and Rhaenyra quickly realizes what it is; Daemon's wrists are still tied to the headboard, when she wants his hands on her waist, her hips, her thighs, steadying her, creating one more point of direct contact between them.
She reaches up with a sudden franticness, digging her fingernails into the admittedly loose knot she'd created so she can tug the belt loose, away from his skin with an audible whisper of the leather, punctuated by the thud of the buckle when it slips from her grasp over the edge of the mattress to hit the floor. ]
Daemon. [ She needs him, desperately, fingers of one hand sliding through his hair, cradling the back of his head — tender as a mother's embrace, but with the urgency of a lover. When she rounds her hips down over his mouth again, it's more gently than when she'd sheathed his cock in her heat, since she isn't aiming to smother him, but she's still more heedless in how she seeks out his tongue, her other hand curving over the top of the headboard for further purchase. ]
She's sensitive, already, from riding him, but in a way that renders every further lick and stroke that much more enjoyable. Still, something's missing even in this, and Rhaenyra quickly realizes what it is; Daemon's wrists are still tied to the headboard, when she wants his hands on her waist, her hips, her thighs, steadying her, creating one more point of direct contact between them.
She reaches up with a sudden franticness, digging her fingernails into the admittedly loose knot she'd created so she can tug the belt loose, away from his skin with an audible whisper of the leather, punctuated by the thud of the buckle when it slips from her grasp over the edge of the mattress to hit the floor. ]
Daemon. [ She needs him, desperately, fingers of one hand sliding through his hair, cradling the back of his head — tender as a mother's embrace, but with the urgency of a lover. When she rounds her hips down over his mouth again, it's more gently than when she'd sheathed his cock in her heat, since she isn't aiming to smother him, but she's still more heedless in how she seeks out his tongue, her other hand curving over the top of the headboard for further purchase. ]
[ There are few people alive that Daemon would willingly bend to, that he would offer himself to without pause, and there is a strange twist of fate in the imagining that it is father and daughter both. Blood calls to blood, and the two of them have the blood of the dragon burning inside of them - it's what calls to him, makes him yearn for her all the more. Her beauty, her strength, her wisdom and her mind, but her blood, too, her connection to the dragons that pulse inside them.
He enjoys this, he thinks; giving her what she wants, seeking her pleasure, curling his tongue in her cunt and making a pleased noised as she rocks over him. Daemon does not see this as true submission, perhaps, as others do - in this he is giving his wife pleasure, giving her what she desires, all that she wants, and there is no hesitation in him. There is nothing that would stop him from bringing her the release she deserves.
This is his wife. He will do well by her, as he always shall.
Without hesitation, he closes his eyes and continues to worship her, to do everything that he can to please her, groaning against her cunt with content abandon. ]
He enjoys this, he thinks; giving her what she wants, seeking her pleasure, curling his tongue in her cunt and making a pleased noised as she rocks over him. Daemon does not see this as true submission, perhaps, as others do - in this he is giving his wife pleasure, giving her what she desires, all that she wants, and there is no hesitation in him. There is nothing that would stop him from bringing her the release she deserves.
This is his wife. He will do well by her, as he always shall.
Without hesitation, he closes his eyes and continues to worship her, to do everything that he can to please her, groaning against her cunt with content abandon. ]
I will return. Do not be alarmed, when you see me.
It is not so severe, I assure you.
[ And there he is, opening the door; his hair is shorn, cut to a length that she might recall from his return from the Stepstones, and his arm hangs limply in a strange, makeshift sling across his chest. His fate is mottled with a handful of bruises, but it does nothing to hide the scowl on his features. ]
[ And there he is, opening the door; his hair is shorn, cut to a length that she might recall from his return from the Stepstones, and his arm hangs limply in a strange, makeshift sling across his chest. His fate is mottled with a handful of bruises, but it does nothing to hide the scowl on his features. ]
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