Daenerys Targaryen X Reader - Tumblr Posts

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・There was no fear in you when you were around Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion.

・The first dragons in hundreds of years and you saw them as puppies. Okay well, truly you saw them as beings to be respected and revered

・But you treat animals with that same respect anyway - usually preferring them over human company...

・You understood that each dragon had a different personality. It defined how you treated them

・Drogon was the most independent; he hated being coddled too much. He just likes to play and explore

・Rhaegal always wanted to keep up with Drogon, but he wasn't fast enough. And he liked being close to Dany.

・Viserion though - he adored being held; soft touches and gentle pets were his favourite. It took a long time for him to realise he was too big to sit in your lap :(

・Dany loved that someone else saw her children the way she did. With dignity and astonishment

・Other people were incredibly shocked to find you laying in the grass with three dragons. All lazily flopped on top of you somehow. Either with their head, wing or foot

・You actually know secrets about the dragons - how Drogon has ticklish feet. Rhaegal likes to be called 'a good strong dragon,' and Viserion sometimes whines for his mother.

・Your relationship with Dany definitely helps as well. You adore her, and she you. You do love her ... as more than friends, more than her being your ruler...

・But you could never admit that

・Too bad though, she herself is deeply in love with you. And it shows - you're allowed alone with her children. Allowed to look after them when she isn't there to

・Like ... another mother to them

・And gods forbid if anything happened to you - the dragons would kill anyone who comes into mere feet of you.

・There's always one of them nearby.

Hi, can you please write a Yan!Daenerys prompt 27?

[27]; "My dark nature is a reflection of the depth of my love for you. I know I'm a monster, but I'm your monster."

❝tw: mention of death, mildly angst (?) and obsessive behavior.

The smell of ash and blood filled King's Landing almost like a plague. The screams of those burned by Drogon, once so excruciating, became just uncomfortable memories in Daenerys' mind.

For that was all they would eventually become. It wasn't right but Daenerys didn't care. She no longer cared about becoming what she became. As long as she had you in her life, the entire world could be consumed by dragon fire.

You were all that mattered to her.

Daenerys watched the devastation around her, her eyes fixed on the smoldering ruins of the city that once represented the heart of the Realm. Her expression was a mix of cold determination and a rare tenderness reserved only for you.

She did it for you. All for you.

"I did this for us. For you." Daenerys whispered in awe, more to herself than anyone else. Your presence beside her was an anchor amidst the chaos, a shining light in the darkness she had created.

You looked at her as if you no longer recognized her and, in a way, that was true. This was no longer the Daenerys you knew and once loved. This was a shell of what she once was.

A woman dominated by grief and the fear of losing someone else she loved. And only the gods knew what Daenerys would do to the world if something happened to you.

"Some things need to be destroyed so that others can flourish." She continued, turning to look at you. "They would never understand. They would never accept the world I want to build."

You felt the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze. There was a deep pain there, a loneliness that only you seemed able to alleviate. Even with all the power and destruction she commanded, Daenerys was, deep down, a woman looking for love and acceptance. And she wanted that from you, just you.

Her gaze, although filled with burning passion, had a coldness that hadn't existed before. The glow in her eyes was now more intense, but also emptier, as if an essential part of her humanity had been consumed by the fire of her own despair.

And it hurt. The sight of a person you loved, maybe still love, being destroyed like this was too much to bear.

"You didn't have to do that." You tried to say, trying to reach the real Daenerys that remained somewhere inside her. "You didn't need to destroy King's Landing, you didn't need to burn all those people and destroy their home. There was another way, there always is."

But your words seemed to be lost in the freezing winter wind, swallowed by the distant sound of echoes from a city in ruins. She lifted her head and the strength in her voice left no room for doubt. "I can't go back anymore." She declared. "What's done is done. And now, you're all I have."

There was a palpable fear in her words, a fear of what might happen if you walked away, a fear that made her cry out for your presence, not just as a partner, but as her anchor in a sea of ​​uncertainty. Not that she would let you get away, but she wouldn't want to hold you prisoner.

Daenerys looked at you with an intensity that mixed love and despair, her voice a painful whisper filled with truth. "My dark nature is a reflection of the depth of my love for you. I know I'm a monster, but I'm your monster."

Her words seemed to hang heavy in the air like a sentence of condemnation and devotion at the same time. She was not just revealing herself, but giving herself completely, displaying her scars and shadows as if they were a sign of absolute love.

What was left of Daenerys, the woman you loved and feared, was desperate to hold on to what she still could hold, even if it meant sacrificing the world around her. And when you looked into her violet eyes, you knew there was no going back.

She was your monster. Your queen. And she loved you so hard that she would be willing to burn the world to the ground, even if that wasn't your desire. It didn't matter in the end, though. Daenerys would always hold on to you.

ᴀ ᴊᴏᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ?

Daenerys Targaryen x Knight!reader

Words : 3.7k+

Summary : You dread the day she finds someone else, but is that something worth worrying about? At all?

Warning (s) : suggestive themes?? Daario being annoying.

[requested by anons]

∵※∵

“Your grace.”

“My Queen.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes as Daario Naharis bowed dramatically beside you, keeping your demeanor impassive as you stood straight, catching the eyes of no other than the Queen. There was a glint in her violet orbs, a subtle pull at the edge of her lips when she noticed your distaste for the man currently chasing after her affection.

You tried to pay him no mind, drawing her attention onto you fully as you went after battle strategies on ways to take over Yunkai while the aggravating man kept on making severely inappropriate hints to Daenerys, who’d only sent him an amused smile each time he winked her way. She was enjoying the newfound attention from the man that gave her a whole army of the Second Sons, and you couldn’t help but find him irritating for the sole reason of his cockiness.

It was no surprise that he knew the ways into the city, like he’d sneaked in so many times – you refused to let them take it down without you, much to Daenerys’ protests. Better to keep your eyes on him, even if that meant leaving her behind; Barristan would do well in keeping her safe. After all, the old man seemed to be doing fine despite your relentless challenges upon his abilities.

“One sight of trouble, come back to me.” Her hushed words were directed to you only, far away from curious ears and nosy presence of the group who’d taken post outside the tent before leaving. There was desperation in her pleading gaze and you couldn’t help but crack a smile, one that you shot down as soon as you realized the speck of blush on her cheeks, lips turned upward and mirroring yours. Such a smile that pulled at the edge of her eyes and your heartstrings at the same time, one that sent your world crumbling down as you remembered you weren’t the only one receiving it.

“You’re doubting me, Your Grace?” Even with your fake offense, her grin didn’t subside, knowing your tendency of teasing her with a straight face – most people always found it odd, not registering your attempt at cracking jokes in the middle of training or discussion. Daenerys decided it would be unacceptable to have one meeting without your terrible jokes.

She shook her head as she brushed off the imaginary dust on your shoulder, “I doubt your self-control,” You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence at her innuendo. “Don’t kill him.” It was more a command than a request, but Daenerys knew she couldn’t stop you if you were to decide otherwise – it would be a great loss, though not one she couldn’t overcome.

“Why would I indulge myself in your fury, Khaleesi?” Daenerys hated the way your few words always seemed to draw such pathetic reactions from her, yet she loved it anyway, for the flutters in her chest when you called her by that title was one that made her crave for something better, a higher place only she could reach with you by her side – it made her crave you.

None of those would ever be of knowledge to anyone else, however. Not when you rode off into the dark, raiding a city with a reckless plan she was sure would end up in destruction. Not when her heart anxiously beat faster as the hours ticked by, silence ringing throughout the starry night she otherwise would’ve enjoyed.

But certainly when she’d became so worried that a single console from Missandei caused her tongue to slip and her mouth to spill out her pent up thoughts.

Daenerys couldn’t recall most of the words tumbling out of her throat, only that a laugh emitted from the translator so carefree and amused, both of them paused with wide eyes assessing each other in alarm – Missandei in fear of offending her Queen, and Daenerys in distress over giving away her feelings for her Knight.

Making her swear to never tell anyone could be considered exaggerating; for one, Missandei would never even thought of betraying her trust in handling the precious information, bless her soul, and two, it wasn’t as if no one had a clue of her.. attachment to the stoic fighter.

Except for Daenerys herself, of course.

↭↯↭

It was well in the night after pacing a hole on the ground that Daenerys heard a commotion outside, signaling the horses arriving and with them, hopefully, her intact group of fighters. That is, if you hadn’t left Daario to die in the battlefield. Jorah was the first to enter her peripheral, his appearance a slight relief to her heart; hair disheveled and dust collecting on his armour, but at least he wasn’t visibly straining against death.

“Where’s Daario Naharis?” Daenerys could see Missandei grimacing at the question coming out of her mouth, the obvious person missing from her sight should’ve been her top priority. They couldn’t blame her for worrying for the lesser of the fighter, now, could they?

She was an idiot. The mother of dragons, the Khaleesi of the great grass sea, was an idiot. Because when Daario strutted in, presenting her with the flag of Yunkai he stole from the towers, she could see no sign of you, and her heart fell to her stomach, panic written in her eyes that it probably gave away more than she’d preferred.

It took all but a glance at her translator before she bolted outside, frantically scouting the crowd for- There. The tent across from hers – she spared no time to think over her actions, her feet carrying her to the opened gap and sliding in without much consideration.

“Why-” Her confrontation was stuck in her throat by the sight she was greeted with; your back, bruises forming all around the smooth skin, an actively bleeding wound just below your shoulder blades. When your eyes caught hers, she could swear she saw your life flash before your eyes in panic, hastily throwing a cloth over your back to cover it. “Shit, Daenerys. What are you doing here?” Oh, you didn’t use her title. The thought made her head spin; it sounded even better than when you made the conscious decision to do otherwise – formality be damned. The Targaryen would do anything to hear you say the word again, if only the circumstances were on her side.

You moved towards the pile of clothes stacked on the makeshift bed, but Daenerys grabbed your hands before you could attempt to shrug on a layer of fresh clothing on top of the open wounds. An idiot, that’s what you were. Your movements were calculated, voice too low and breathing too calm for someone who was gravely injured – even the Queen had trouble keeping herself in check in order not to trip over something or worse, dabbed at the gash too harshly. You shifted uncomfortably with your back facing her, the idea of Daenerys, standing there and cleaning your wound was too much to comprehend. It felt too close, too intimate for it to simply be a form of sympathy a Royal could hold for her royal guard.

“It was an easy raid,” Daenerys felt her hands sweat and shake as each dip of the cloth darkened the water just a bit more, her inadequate skills doing the best at washing off the blood, leaving the red, raw skin exposed to the air. “Most of the masters fled once they caught wind of us, giving the city away to save themselves.” Feeling the lack of motion, you turned your head and found her fingers hovering over your shoulder.

Deciding it was clean enough, you rose from your sitting position and faced her, ushering her towards the exit while simultaneously wrapping a dressing over the injury. “It’s just a cut.” Daenerys frowned, slightly struggling against the rigid and hard muscles of your arms, wishing to have a reason to stay – there wasn’t. And she cursed the world for it.

“It doesn’t seem like just a cut.” You only hummed, crossing your arms and stared at her the way it always made Daenerys melt and her heart to thrum aggressively in her chest. The smile she earned was enough for her cheeks to bloom with colour, and the Khaleesi found it hard to avert her gaze away from your lips.

“I’ll recover, Your Grace.” Now that she’d had a taste of her name on your tongue, she never wanted to hear it reciting her titles ever again. “And if I fail, there will be another to replace me.” Shrugging, you spoke of death so easily that it brought unease in her heart, your view of your place in her court far too wrong, too easily discarded. Daenerys opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off when Daario interrupted the sure to be awkward parting had he not came.

“Best to get some rest, Khaleesi.” You nodded, sending a sharp look to the man over her shoulder that had Daenerys glancing at the interaction with more interest than at the statements of the raid ready in his mind – though you knew it wasn’t the only thing residing there. She allowed him to escort her back, albeit begrudgingly, her eyes tracing over your frame as she reflected on your well-being.

↭

She knew it wasn’t ‘just a cut’.

The next morning, she’d sent some bottles of medicines into your tent with a roll of paper that commanded you to take them or else you’d be stripped from your armour.

You chuckled, shaking your head at the little threat she slipped in. That woman has a knack for the dramatics.

↭↯↭

Mereen was a place you could survive never stepping your foot into. It was a sight to watch the city surrender as fast as it did, to watch people, humans, with chains around their necks like animals – Daenerys hadn’t felt a kind of sick so tremendous than that moment, and she’d had a fair share of horrendous. It felt brief, passed in a blink of an eye and before you knew it, you were inside the city, new orders and a new Queen ruling at the top of the tower, though your duties had increased with the amount of protests and riots some of the masters started.

The new settings didn’t stop Daario to win over her majesty, however – if anything, he’d seen it as an opportunity, now that they were settling down in one place for a while. And to say you were doing fine would be an understatement. What they saw with their bare eyes was nothing compatible to the fury blossoming in your chest each time the man so much as touch her hands. You tried to tell yourself that it was merely your job; to be protective of your Queen, and it had nothing to do with the growing, uncontrollable endearment in your heart.

Memories of those fleeting moments of closeness flashed in your mind and you cursed yourself, shaking your head in silence to rid of the images. It doesn’t mean anything – nothing means anything, for her attention was only just, one that would be replaced onto a handsome (in her opinion, anyway), better warrior than you. You dreaded the day it’d come, so letting yourself bask in the flutters of butterflies in your stomach and the skips of your heart for however long she’d let you wasn’t wrong, was it?

Losing yourself in a spar was easy; but getting lost in the pools of violet was easier, like sinking into a serene pool of water, which was why you’d tripped over yourself when you caught her eyes from across the pitch, her dress flowing behind her as she strolled lightly toward the training soldiers.

It was a graceful fall, as Daenerys had put it in her mind, her gaze trailing your form as you righted yourself before the sight was blocked by none other than a proud Daario. If anyone was being honest, the silver-haired woman was getting tired of his endless flirting and interruption on her precious moments – though she didn’t have the heart to tell him just that.

“My Queen! Gracing us with your lovely presence?” You gripped the wooden spear in your hand tightly, dragging your foot through the sand to join your gaze with hers – lost again, it was becoming a habit now, like visiting a secret safe place only you knew of. Hitting the back of his knees, you rolled your eyes and Daenerys caught a quirk of your lips as she chuckled at your act of indifference, ignoring Daario doubling over and scoffing at you.

“You’re welcome to watch me kick ass.” His arrogant smirk was one you wished to wipe off, and you’d do just that – he didn’t know it yet, though.

It was well past noon, the sun floating close to the ground, only half of it visible to the eye and the humid air was soon to be swapped by a soft breeze of the nightfall. Most royals would be expecting their baths drawn in their rooms, preparing for dinner and a warm bed by the end of the night – not Daenerys, no. She was raised in exile, by people who had no more than enough money for food, let alone servants. She was a widow of a Khal, and though she did have.. friends, it wasn’t a custom she allowed herself to get used to. The Queen preferred to walk the field, a moment of peace in between meetings and calls from the people, an intake of fresh air after escaping those bland, dirty walls that carried a stench she couldn’t rid of.

Personally, Daenerys had never fancied watching fights; weapons dangerous enough to kill, violence, bloody matches – if she could choose, she’d never put herself in any situation that required combat.

But with you there, she might’ve made an exception. This day, while the city retired for the night, the Queen was outside, anticipating the battle her knights put on just for her; to win her affection, bragging rights, what was it? Daenerys couldn’t remember the reason behind it, yet they were doing it anyway. She might as well enjoy it.

“Does your bed get cold at night, Your Grace?”

And there he went, off to whatever world he’d made up where seamlessly hitting on his Queen was acceptable while engaged in a combat with her most skilled fighter. Daenerys shook her head, eyes focused on the wooden sticks you were using as weapons, your swift parries and calculated attacks sending blows against him.

“The dragons kept it warm enough. I could lend you Rhaegal if you’re interested?” Your foot caught his ankle and the man stumbled, giving you enough time to stab his chest. Raising your eyebrows, you began to wonder if Daenerys was genuinely honest in her offer.

“I could think of other options to keep my bed warm.” You’d carve his smirk off his face if you could. The best concern for the time being was only to win, though, and it wasn’t as hard when he was distracted – as you were, but worse. Everyone, and you meant every single soul held some form of knowledge on his intentions with the Queen of Mereen, herself included.

“If you’d volunteer to be my children’s next meal, sure.” Daario took her lack of refusal as a win, a cocky grin appearing on his face even when he was obviously straining and losing in the battle.

“I’d have a feast before going, then. W-” His words were cut off from his tongue, the sudden attack too aggressive and rough that he stumbled a few steps back before being brought to his knees, air no longer supplying his lungs.

The audience, whatever was left to gather around to witness a boring match, stood rigidly in silence, surprise written in most faces at the turn of events. They’d never seen you, the person they looked up to, one of the best combatant they’d ever met, the stoic, calm and one that radiated control, lose it over a comment your comrade made. You were always a calculated leader, in battles or not. The air in which you carried yourself in was worshipped by a lot, your elegant yet deadly way of cutting through enemies had oftentimes became a topic of admiration.

It was so silent that your hushed whisper on his ears could be heard resonating throughout the field.

“Be careful. You might lose your head faster than you can blink.”

Girls would’ve swooned at the show of dominance you were putting on, and Daenerys would be lying if she claimed to be unaffected by the action. Daario had a look that showcased how terrified he was to be at the receiving end of your gaze; one that looked ready to demolish him. He wasn’t about to test the theory as he gasped for air the moment your grip was removed, opening his mouth to make another joke to ease the tension.

You held up your hand, “I don’t want to hear it.” Taking a deep breath, you spared Daenerys only a glance, your head bowed down in shame as you all but bolted away from the field.

↭↯↭

Perhaps you shouldn’t have heeded her request of seeing you this late into the night, words on how to express your regret already circling in your mind as you crossed the halls to her chambers.

Daenerys was standing by the windows, her nightgown flowing with the breeze and her hair cascading down her back in curly waves. Your footsteps signaled your arrival, her head turning to catch a glimpse of your silhouette but she did nothing else to regard your presence.

Clearing your throat, you started with the rehearsed words on your tongue.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I-”

“Call me Daenerys.” You gulped, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, apologies now stuck in your throat. Your foot was locked in place, settling a few paces behind her.

“That would be highly inappropriate-”

“You attacked Daario.” She remained facing the starless sky, her arms crossed as she enjoyed how worked up you were getting. A part of her almost felt remorse in relishing in the sight. Almost. You trudged toward her, foot stomping against the stone floor in your rare display of ire.

“And I already apologized for it.” At last, her head turned to meet your narrowed eyes, an amused smile on her lips as she bit down to it, giggles already sounding from the back of her throat and threatening to break through. Your gaze softened and you sagged in realization, pursing your lips while Daenerys tried to control her breathing, her shoulders shaking with the amount of mirth she was holding.

“You’re infuriating, Your Grace.” She burst out laughing at that, the view of your chest puffed up in rage and your eyes rolling at her obvious play with you was a sight to behold. Her cheeks were a shade of pink from all the hoots of laughter, hands clutching her stomach.

Daenerys clicked her tongue and shook her head, “That’s no way to talk to your Queen.” She was heaving for breath, now leaning her hips on the windowsill for support when you decided enough was enough.

You took a bold step toward her, the space between you thinning along with the sound of her giggles as they dropped into small puffs of breath. “Didn’t you tell me to call you Daenerys?” Perhaps a part of your brain was thinking irrationally, still riding from the high of your fury hours before. Otherwise, you didn’t know where the sudden push of insanity that barricaded into you had came from. You stopped a few inches from her, your tunic brushing against her gown, the proximity was almost enough to drive Daenerys into losing her mind.

She felt your fingers ghost her cheek as you tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and in a fleet of selfishness, she let herself lean into your touch. “I wonder who else was given the privilege.” By who else, you meant Daario, and Daenerys was quick to catch onto it. No one, she wished to say, No one but you, yet she was silent, tongue darting to wet her lips as her eyes traced yours.

Your hand threaded through her silver locks and it was only another second before she balled her fist on your coat and yanked you forward, her lips finally catching yours in a searing kiss. Her heart thrummed against her ribcage, blood rushing to her brain and a savoring warmth bloomed in her chest. Your lips were cold against hers, and as she pecked them again, swiped her tongue over it, basking in the taste of you, she felt her warmth melding in and smearing off the icy flavour. Daenerys could drown in the feeling forever, if only she was allowed to.

“That was thoroughly not appropriate.” You pulled away just as she leaned in, chest heaving with every intake of air you took. Daenerys gave you a deadpanned look, her well-kissed lips pressed in a thin line and hand gripping your arm so tight it might leave a mark. Her hair had become so messy from your work, and it felt only fair that your clothes was all crumpled from her grasps and tugs at it.

“Not at all.”

It wasn’t the answer you were expecting, nor was it one that made any sense, given both your positions and state. But she pulled you in again, kisses chaste and eyes closed, her arms circling around to press every inch of your skin against hers.

Nothing was making sense, not when all of your senses were overloaded to the brim, violet eyes and silver hair filling your vision – you stopped asking questions when you part again, and it was now her turn as she chased after the feeling that effortlessly made her drunk on the first sip.

A mess. Both of you. Her grip was relentless as you stepped away, refusing to budge even as you pulled them off yourself.

“Rest up, Your Grace. I believe you have an important meeting tomorrow.” She couldn’t recall if that was the truth, in fact, she couldn’t think of anything at all.

Now you’re the one being infuriating. Daenerys gaped at your retreating back, her knees buckling as her door clicked close before you burst through it once again. You strode to her hastily, lips meeting hers once, twice, before they latched onto her cheek and you were out in a blink, your victorious smile the last thing she caught.

The Queen exhaled, chest tight and vision swimming as she fell not-so-gracefully onto her bed. Oh, she’s so fucked.

the heir - daenerys targaryen x oc

Summary: when a descendant of the blackfyre name makes a deal with the true heir to the iron throne, she only wishes to kill the current king, not fall in love with a future queen

a/n: I have found a new hyperfixation, and this is a new asoiaf fic im writing on ao3

Pairing: daenerys targaryen x blackfyre oc

i ii iii

Daenerys never liked the life she came to live. She and Viserys were in exile. He spoke of taking back his rightful kingdom, and it was hard to hear him speak of her as nothing but a pawn. But one day, she felt a shift. It was when the Magister had introduced Viserys to a woman. Daenerys wasn't invited to listen to their conversation, but she was there, and she remembered her name.

Calla Blackfyre, second of her name.

She'd never seen Viserys so excited to hear the name. "She is one of us, Daenerys.." Daenerys didn't know much about the Blackfyres and their relation to the Targaryens except that they were said to have died decades ago.

"I know you seem skeptical of my origins, but my mother had me and my brother with Maelys Blackfyre before his death in the Stepstones."

"And who is your brother?"

"Daemon Blackfyre, fourth of his name. But he is no longer with us." Viserys nods, noting that yet again the male Blackfyre line ceases to exist.

"And why do you wish to fight for me, Calla?" Her eyes drift to Daenerys, who silently watches, and back to Viserys. "I wish to put Robert Baratheon's head on a spike." The man is so shocked by the answer that he smiles wildly, bursting out a laugh. He roughly pats her shoulder. "Great minds think alike. But I must inquire," Calla nods, watching his eyes drift to the sword.

He looks back up quickly and smiles wider. "Why do you hold such a grudge?"

"King Robert wishes to wipe us all out. I begged my mother as a child to let us have her name, but she refused. Despite my kinfolk, Daemon I, being a bastard, he believes we carry the spirit of the Dragon through our veins. My brother and I are bastards ourselves." Viserys hums.

"I know of a man with 100,000 men. An army that would crush the Baratheons and the Lannisters."

"Is that so?" Carra nods. "Khal Drogo, owes me."

"What will he bargain for?" The prince was desperate to make it back to King's Landing, and he will do anything to get there. No matter how desperate the way may be. Carra's eyes drift to Daenerys once more. "A wife." Viserys follows her gaze and looks back at Carra.

"Can I trust you?"

Not much more needed to be said when her leather-gloved hand shook his. Daenerys didn't appreciate being sold off in front of her, but it would take quite some time for this marriage to be arranged.

In the coming moons, Daenerys watched Carra. At night she'd look at the Narrow Sea, or simply sit anywhere and stare at the setting sun. One night, she became curious and went outside after her. "What is so compelling about the sunset that you wish to see it every night?" Carra didn't jump at the princess's soft tone, but smiled lightly and turns to look at her.

"When I was young, I lived in Winterfell. It's where my mother was born. She was visiting my grandmother when she met my father. Up until my 15th name day, I'd never seen the sun. It was either gloomy and wet, or snowy and wet." Daenerys chuckles, walking over. Carra scoots over so she can sit on the bench.

"I watch the sunset now because it brings me peace. Before I was told my birthright, I was a blacksmith in my younger years. That sounds insane, right? Six-year-old forges weapons fit for the Stark boys." She scoffs, looking back out to the sea. "Starks. If I were born Carra Tiren as I wished, my life would've been so simple."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, I do." She looks back over at her. "But you will never know. You are a Targaryen."

"And yet, you wield our weapon. Doesn't that make you a Targaryen, too? By default." She smiles, and Carra smiles back. "Blackfyre was wielded by Aegon the Conqueror and has been passed down for 200 years. It was hidden until my brother died at the hands of the King himself." The girl's hand drifts to Carra's knee.

"I'm sorry." Carra covers her hand with her own. "Don't be." She retracts it and leans back. "That oaf is paranoid. So convinced that even the bastard kin of a bastard would ever wish to rule."

"But I heard it was your birthright." Carra chuckles, nodding. "The Blackfyre Pretenders. Jaehaerys made sure that never continued." She sighs. "But enough politics. You asked me about my interest in the sunset?" She receives a nod in response.

"Well, when we moved to King's Landing, Daemon would climb onto the highest of buildings and watch it. We were there for my uncle, and there was nothing for us in Winterfell. We'd sneak into the brothels as we became grown."

"Brothels?" Daenerys smirks.

"We only watched. Daemon found a strange interest in larger women with humongous breasts." The girl beside her laughs. "My Gods, they were, just-" She chuckles, and the girl watches as Carra gains her mental image. "You'd be amazed."

"Would I?"

"Yeah." She pauses, a thought on her tongue. "God, I was knighted under my mother's name. Ser Carra Tiren."

"I thought you didn't use her name."

"We did, for a while. It was because of where we were. As I said, the oaf is quite paranoid. We were exposed as Maelys' children. My brother was no fighter, simply a butcher, and my mother helped my uncle with his tavern. They were executed, and I watched in disguise. "Anyone with the blood of a Targaryen, whether thick or thin, will die before me." He said. Takes the throne, and kills the ones who have the right to be on it. Spoken like a true king, a true usurper." The girl silently watches as Carra's eyes fall to the ground.

"Your family did not deserve to be executed, and it is not your fault." Carra clenches her jaw.

"He thought we would challenge. How? My brother was not fit to be king. He was no warrior—a skinny boy with bad eyes, and frail hands. I was taller and stronger, he was nothing but a sweet man. How could he look at him and think he'd even want to be on a throne? It should've been me."

"Carra-"

"I-When this is all over, and Viserys drives a sword through Robert's heart, I will live on a beach. Daemon wished to live on a beach."

"Maybe I could come with you." Carra scoffs playfully, and she looks at Daenerys. "You? The delicate flower? You'd leave your brother to be on your own?" The girl wanted to be offended, but Carra's smile was making it hard to.

"Yes! I am my person." Carra nods with a smirk. "Yeah, sure. But, I must warn you, princess, I am boring." Daenerys scoffs. "After all you've just told me, you think yourself boring spilling out your life story?" Carra shrugs.

"My brother had fun. He was handsome enough, so the young girls would fawn over him. He had friends and went to parties in the woods. I sat at home, and read. No boys liked me, although that never mattered much to me. Aside from my knighthood, I was pretty quiet, I had one friend."

"Well, tell me about them." Carra chuckles. "Her name was Alise. She was so smart, so cunning. We met when I first moved to King's Landing. I was ten, Daemon was twelve. One day a lord came and asked for me and my boss, Geron, to forge a sword fit for a warrior. For a fortnight we worked. He paid extra, and on breaks, while he spoke to Geron, Alise, and I played. We were friends until my family's execution. We saw each other one last time before I fled."

Although Carra didn't believe Daenerys to be completely idiotic, she just didn't want the princess to know of her dalliances. "I hear she is married to some pig in Casterly Rock." She turns toward Daenerys fully. "Why did you come out here? You should be asleep."

The blonde stares into Carra's brown eyes. "I don't know. I was curious as to why you spend your nights out here."

"Well, I'm glad. I've never told a stranger my life story." The girl smiles, holding Carra's hand in hers. "You are no longer a stranger, Carra. You are a friend."

"I don't have many of those."

the heir - daenerys targaryen (pt. 2)

a/n: since I already have 4 parts posted on ao3, I'm posting them all here as well.

i ii iii iv v

“What is this Khal Drogo like?” Viserys inquires. 

“The Dothraki may be peculiar people, but he is a simple man. He will like Daenerys.” Carra seemed to get more nervous as Daenerys’ betrothal to the man approached its head. He wasn’t a gentleman, a fact she knew. But it wasn’t her place because Daenerys would be given to him. Viserys and Carra would take his armies to King’s Landing in exchange for her hand. 

The two could laugh the feast before Robert Baratheon’s head when this was all over. She dreamt of such a sight. 

“Good.”

Their wedding wasn’t for several moons, and Carra had stayed for four. She and Daenerys had begun to get closer. In the mornings, the princess hoped to wake up and hear the pattering of Carra’s boots as she ran around the compound several times. 

The girl wouldn’t admit it, but she enjoyed watching her. She sweats profusely, and her muscles glistened in the sunlight. She was freakishly tall, and her stark black hair with silver streaks became matted when she did her morning run.  And when she finishes, the three of them eat breakfast, and the two women share glances and smiles. 

“Carra, tell me of your escapades through Sorthoryos. The Magister said that is how you discovered Blackfyre.” Carra nods. “Yes. I had an encounter with the Brindled Men. I escaped with my life, but they were fewer men and more grotesque creatures. I found the sword buried there. Why and how? I have no idea. But it was there, and it was intact. I did gain a few scars, but nothing debilitating.” Now he was curious. 

“Could you show me?” Carra glances at the siblings nervously before simply pulling up her shirt. Daenerys eyes widen as her eyes land on the large gash that trailed close to Carra’s heart to the right of her abdomen. “Goodness.”

“Yeah, it is the main reason I only wear shirts.” Carra chuckles, pulling down her shirt. “There’s one on my hand, but that’s healed. I still can’t feel this finger.” She wiggles her pinky finger. “I have a few burns, don’t ask how. Very nasty explanation.”

“Oh, I won’t, I promise.” Viserys chuckles. Carra looks over at Daenerys with a smile. “How are you still alive?” The girl asks. 

“Luck.” 

Later in the day, Viserys had gone off with the Magister, and Carra had spent her time reading Daenerys’ room. She’d spent a lot of time in there recently. 

“How many times have you read that since you came here?” It was one of the only possessions Carra brought along with her. “I have no idea.” She mutters, pretending to read while staring at the princess from the corner of her eye. “You’ve never told me what it was about.”

“It’s a story of love. “The Face of Beauty” is not in the common tongue, though.” Daenerys hums, sitting up. “Read it to me.” Carra looks away and over to her. 

“Is that an order?” She smirks. Daenerys immediately shakes her head, making the older woman chuckle. “I was teasing. Of course, I’ll read it to you.”

She turns to her favorite page. 

“Borros stood at the head of the table, watching his wife. They stared at one another, and despite her scar, he still loved her. She was different now, no longer his delicate flower, but he didn’t love Lyana any less. He loved her more. She was different, but she was still his.” Carra continued, and Daenerys stared with her hand supporting her head. 

Over and over, Carra repeated the phrase “his delicate flower,” and it made the girl wonder if this book was where Carra had gotten it from. 

She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost hadn’t noticed when Carra closed the book. “That’s all for today.” She smirks, placing it beside her. “Do you want to get out? I could take you on horseback, perhaps?” The young princess had never smiled wider in her life. “Yes.” 

“No,” Viserys says. 

“You know I will protect her, Viserys.”

“I do, but you have no idea how many people have attempted to take our lives since we were born, Ser Carra.” Carra knew she’d gone through the source of these men just to find the siblings. “I understand, I-”

“Brother.” The two look over at Daenerys. “I trust her. I just wanted to get out.” Viserys glares at her, and Carra frowns but steps in front of her. He focuses back on Carra, his gaze softening. “If she comes back with even a scratch-”

“You will have my head. I’m sure.” She smiles and grabs the younger girl’s hand. The duo exit, and Carra covers the blonde with a blanket as they ride towards the small beach down the hill. 

She stopped the horse and hopped down before pulling Daenerys down. The shorter girl took in a deep breath of the salty air, and Carra sat on the damp sand. “Do you ever wonder what is beyond the Narrow Sea?” Daenerys asks. 

“Not really.” She receives in response. “Well, I think there's more society. We only know the seven kingdoms, but what if there are more beyond the wall or land we have not yet discovered?” Carra shrugs. 

“I think it best if they remain undetected. The royals will wish to conquer it. Imagine the amount of suffering that could’ve been prevented if Aegon had not wished to conquer everything.” Daenerys looks over at her and watches her expression. “Conquests and rebellions only bring pain.” She thought back to her family. She’d failed to mention the young sisters that she hid away with another family to escape freely. 

Robert’s Rebellion was good for the Baratheons, Starks, and Lannisters. Celene Tiren was no enemy; now her daughter suffered because people believed she was. “Do you truly wish not to rule if my brother takes back King’s Landing?” Her question was presented in a way that almost made Carra sad. 

She was so quiet, soft, and innocent. 

It was something Carra admired. “I would not. I was being serious when I admitted I’d rather just retire to a beach.” 

“Well, you can’t just leave me,” Daenerys says playfully. “You will not be alone because you will be a queen.” Daenerys’ smile falters, and she looks away from Carra. “I do not wish to be a queen, Carra.” Carra looks at the sand with guilt. 

“I’m sorry, Daenerys.”

“What for?” Carra looks at her with sad eyes. “I didn’t know you well when I asked Viserys to give you away but know that I have; I will never forgive myself.” She watches as the shorter woman walks back to her and sits down beside her. Daenerys grabs her hands softly. 

“It is what needs to be done.” The brunette shakes her head. “No, we could find another way. Another army.” 

“No one would negotiate with us. You know that. And this marriage won’t last forever, I hope.” Carra scoffs. “You know if Viserys could milk the relationship with the Dothraki until the utter was dry, he would,” Daenerys smirks as they look into each other’s eyes. 

There had been a sort of unspoken thing between them that Viserys noticed but would never allow. Carra saw the way he treated his sister, and when she tried to calm him down, he would give her a silent threat that kept her silent. She had no reason to be afraid. 

She was taller and stronger. These were traits she got from her father. 

But he seemed like a man with a temper. If she questioned him or got out of line, she was sure he’d chop one of her limbs off. She was also worried for Daenerys because he knew they liked each other. It was a definite weakness. “I’m sorry, I just worry for you.” 

“That’s sweet, but I think I can handle myself.” Carra hums, knowing that might not be true. And unfortunately, the days go by faster. Eventually, it becomes very few days before the Khal and Daenerys are to be married, and Carra is readying herself to travel. The first thing she did when she woke was run a bath before the maidens could attend to it for her. 

Daenerys had woken up early as the sun rose. It was almost as though her body had led her to Carra downstairs, and her eyes raked over Carra’s body. Her back had more scars, and her muscles shifted as she wiped herself with soap. “I didn’t think you a spectator, Daenerys.” The girl gulps as Carra turns around with a genuine smirk. 

She could see the scar on her abdomen more clearly and saw that it ran further down to her hip bone. “Would you like to take a bath with me?” The blonde’s breath hitches, and she tries to avert her gaze. “No. I-I have the faintest idea as to why I came here.” She lets out nervously. 

“It’s alright. I’m sure I won’t be the last naked woman you see.” Daenerys doesn’t move, and Carra chuckles as she turns back around.

the heir (pt. 3) - daenerys targaryen

a/n: it’s almost thanksgiving break so i’m posting the rest of the chapters I have to so far, and I might get to the rest of my wips before I go home. (ao3)

i ii iii iv v 

Daenerys had become much quieter in the few days leading up to when the Khal was to arrive, and although she was nervous and didn’t want to marry the Khal, she felt like doing it so that the woman she’d grown to care for would be free of her mental torment. 

She didn’t blame Carra despite the woman apologizing every chance she could find. She spent every waking moment with her, even now. Carra found her in the dressing room as the slave women rushed. Daenerys watched the bay of Pentos, and she was in silent thought. 

She didn’t flinch at Carra’s touch but only looked at her. “What are you thinking?” Other than the obvious, Carra couldn’t read the girl. Daenerys stayed silent with her thoughts, and the taller woman leaned back. “Daenerys!” The girl wakes from her daze, and Carra stands straight as Viserys excitedly walks in. 

“Daenerys!” Carra watches as the girl silently walks into the room and walks behind her. “There’s our bride-to-be.” The woman was almost disgusted at how ecstatic the prince seemed. He holds out a lilac gown for his sister. “Look, a gift from Illyrio.” The girl approaches him slowly. 

“Touch it.” He smiles. “Go on, feel the fabric.” His gaze catches Carra’s on his sister, but he ignores it. “Isn’t he a gracious host?” Daenerys looks up at him. “We’ve been his guests for over a year, and he has never asked us for anything.”

“Illyrio’s no fool. He knows I won’t forget my friends when I come to my throne.” He explains. He hands the dress to a slave. “You still slouch.” He moves her hair behind her shoulders and notices Carra looking down at the floor from further away. He opens her dress and begins to pull it off her shoulders. “Let them see. You have a woman’s body now.” He tosses it on the floor and stares at her. 

“Viserys.” He smirks, looking away from his sister’s body and over at Carra.”May I have a word?” She asks. Daenerys ducks her head, and her brother puts on a smile. “Yes. I’ll be out.” He and Carra stare for a few seconds, and she knows he won’t back down until she leaves, so she does reluctantly. 

After a minute, Viserys walks out with a smile and finds Carra with her hands on her belt. “Don’t tell me you’ve become soft and wish to change plans?” She looks over at him with a glare. “When you came here, Carra, I thought the Gods had sent an angel to save us. Give us back the life we deserve. But I never believed you to be a sap.”

“She is a child, my Prince.” 

“I don’t care. Daenerys is my way to my throne. That child is our way to glory. Do you wish to murder the man who took our families from us?” She nods. “This is the way. She will please him, and he will give us what we need and more. I will let you drive your sword through the fat man’s heart.” She didn’t argue and looked up at him. 

“Now, ease up. It is almost time.” 

After Daenerys dresses, they stand at the front, waiting for the Khal. Carra stood off to the side, wanting to watch. “Where  is  he?” Viserys mumbles. “The Dothraki are not known for their punctuality.” Illyrio answers. It doesn’t take long for the men to arrive on horseback, and Carra looks on. 

She spots the Khal ahead of the others, and the Magister goes to greet him in Dothraki tongue.  “May I present to you, my honored guests? Viserys of House Targaryen, the third of his name, the rightful king of the Andals and the First Men, and his sister, Daenerys of House Targaryen.” Daenerys moves forward, but Viserys grabs her arm and begins to whisper in her ear. 

Carra moves forward beside Daenerys as she watches the Khal. “Come forward, my dear.” Daenerys nervously walks toward the Magister. She reaches the bottom of the steps, and Carra feels Viserys look over at her in confusion. 

After a few seconds, Drogo turns around and rides off. Viserys runs down the steps to the Magister. “Where is he going?!” He asks with worry. “The ceremony is over.”

“But he didn’t say anything. Did he like her?”

“Trust me, Your Grace, if he didn’t like her, we’d know.” Viserys watches after them and hums before walking back up the steps. “Come.” He says as he looks at Carra. Daenerys and the Magister trail behind them. 

“How well do you know the Khal, Carra?” 

“We’ve done battle. I have saved his life, and he has mine. I have the scars to prove it.” Viserys chuckles. “You have plenty of those. But, tell me, will he fail me?”

“He is a man of his word, Your Grace. If anyone fails him, I hope it wouldn’t be you.” Viserys raises an eyebrow and raises his hand, but Carra catches it. “I’m only advising you. You’d be a fool not to repay him.”

“When I rule, you will be highly rewarded.” He smiles darkly and she removes his hand from her grasp. He walks away, and the Magister follows after him, but Daenerys trails behind. Carra looks down at her, and the shorter woman gives her a small smile before walking after the men.

ASOIAF MASTERLIST

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

The Heir

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

ALICENT HIGHTOWER

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Beautiful authors please do some fanfics about benji Sorry, I meant Davos🙄

so is he or is he not ben?

some say that hbo changed his name but why the hell? Maybe that's bens twin brother🤷‍♀️

GAME OF THRONES MASTERLIST —

Credits to @anitalenia for dividers!

🕯️= NSFW

🩰= Fluff

💭= Angst

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