Dragon in the North

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Tempestuous drinking cascaded through the rest of the afternoon after Aegon's birthday celebrations - a new born son of King Viserys II. Some of the guests drinking to celebrate the newborn heir, and others drinking to indulge for the moment being. Few words spoken between the Queen and the King once in each other's presence while drinking wine. All drinks filled up readily as fast as it ran out. You assumed that the deep depths of the castle were soaked in with drinkables.

That thought wasn't until much later in the evening when you excused yourself after a long feast paired with assorted bottles. Walking down the adorned corridor, you let your mind wander about the North. Truly, King's Landing could overshadow anyone's heart by its warm weather, ripe fruits throughout the year, honeyed words and promises, but you couldn't deny the feeling inside. You missed home.

The prolonged trip to King's Landing was coming to an end. The conversation with your mother a few days ago confirmed it, leaving you with anticipation and the urge to start packing your things already.

Alone in the quiet of the crackling fire, you stood on the balcony and looked down at the garden you'd walked so many times in before. Thrumming delicate fingertips over the smooth used wood you stirred in silence for moments longer than you recalled. Memories of a month old washed over you like the waves of the Narrow sea. You should have known that riding a dragon wouldn't have ended good - by the time you landed in Dragonstone, you felt sick. If it wasn't for Daemon, you would throw up on the dragon. Daemon. He disappeared not long after to the Stepstones. The rumors were that he drove the forces and was fighting with Caraxes by his side against the Crabfeeder.

Looking back up at the long door you were sure no one was coming back in any hurry. Taking the moment you stepped away from the balcony and slipped out of the corridor into another. Your choice of destination was predictable. Mulling your way back to the Great Hall. Not even a fire roaring in the hearth as every inch of the room was cold even to look at.

With slow steps to the throne, you looked the room up and down. Reaching the bladed chair you turned around to see how the room looked like from such perspective, how Kings saw the world from this point. You stood straight and hooked your finger at the side of your pale cream dress holding your dagger and turned around flipping the dagger against the warm skin of the neck.

"I knew I would find you here." A silver haired man spoke in low voice in front of you.

You exhaled slowly. "You should have learnt by now not to sneak up on me."

"If it takes me to see you, I will do this again." Daemon confessed as you fussed more.

"What makes you think that I won't leave another scar on you?"

"You can mark me as much as you like." What sounded like a blurt when Daemon's words made it to your ears, you snapped to him expecting to have heard him wrong or a taunting sneer be etched on his face. But he looked at you unflinching or recanting his words.

Fighting some of the fog in your mind from the mead, you did not speak right away. Instead you moved the dagger away. Hiding it under your dress.

"I brought you something." Daemon's lips smiled a little wider.

Eyes heeding back in his direction you strained not to fall for the dragon's infectious smile. But he caught your interest, it could be told by the way how you stood straight when he retrieved something from his pocket.

"Do you know what this is?" A deep metal gleam caught your eyes revealing a necklace with a ruby on the pendant hidden under the fabric.

You knew what it was. It was forged with dragon-fire and infused with magical spells. And it was incredibly resistant to damage from normal fire.

"A valyrian steel?" You touched the surface of it feeling the cold metal with fingertips.

Daemon abruptly snatched it from your hands making you look up at him.

"Smart woman." He stated, "Turn around."

You turned around, keeping your hair out of the way for him. Taking it a sign to proceed, he moved closer putting the necklace around your neck, fingertips barely touching against your skin as he clasped it together.

"Now you have part of my ancestry with you." He moved his fingers over the necklace and not so accidentally over the back of your neck.

Looking down at his broad hand placed on your shoulder, you were wary to move. Until making up your mind and discreetly letting your hand lay on top of his, "I am to return to Winterfell." Fingers brushing over his as the vivid memory played in your mind, "Is it a parting gift, dragon?"

Daemon's lilac eyes pictured in brief what it would be like for him if you left. Your recollection leaving a bitter taste in dragon's mouth as Daemon watched the contrast of moonlight on your skin all down to your gown.

"Return?" He looked over at you. Your features sharp in such contrast to during the day when he could see your face. "Then I shall follow you."

"You would be the worst travelling companion." You scoffed at his daffy proposal, still looking up at him through your eyelashes, back to him, from your right.

"I fail to see where I'm the dead weight in this."

Not partaking in his sudden words but it still causing heat to crawl up on your cheeks. Making it even more unexpected for you, Daemon's tender touch turned your cheek back to him.

You did not resist though. Effortless to meet Daemon with matched affection as you leaned in. Him cupping your cheek in his gentle palm.

Abruptly a loud sound alarmed you as someone bursted into the room. Taking you both in surprise none other than Lord Stark stepped into the room.

"Outrageous..." He hissed. "Outrageous!"

"Father!" You called in surprise removing Daemon's hand from your face, your eyes laid on the tall figure looming in the doorway.

"Stand behind me, I will talk to you later." Your father said, taking another step into the room.

Ticked by the posed request, you felt Daemon's attentive gaze when you walked to stand behind Lord Stark. A slight tighten in your lips and you glanced over at Daemon who refrained from any words. Like staring down the muzzle of a pit fighting wolf, you worried your moment of weakness was to blame tending the Targaryen. If you had just stayed focused, ignored your emotions, executed your plan like you wanted.

"I will not care if you are the King's brother, you desecrated my daughter." Lord Stark's sharp voice barely loud but grating like always.

"I ask your daughter to be my wife." Daemon cut him off without hesitation.

Awe struck at what Daemon was proposing, you weren't sure you had a sly reply to berate his words like you normally would with what the man said.

Glaring harshly at Daemon, beaming with anger, his weary expression turning right into an irked scowl as he answered. "Not when you already have one!"

A breath of fresh air to be away from the toxicity in the Great Hall. Starring down at your hands, you stood quietly with marginal questions until you realized you were more ready to talk.

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