"Give the girl to me to wife. Who else would take her now?"
The Rogue Prince was able to take what he desired, and is given the Snow Dragon to marry. Daemon and Maegelle's story was always that of Ice and Fire, leaving the Greens nothing but ash an...
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King Viserys' parties were splendorous, it instilled in everyone's mind that the house of the dragon was in its peak. It was also once of the best moments to network, most eligible ladies were in the centre of the dance — talking and roaming with other eligible lords. Princess Maegelle's engagement with Prince Daemon was peculiar, for their foremother and forefathers (namely Jaehaerys, Alyssane, Aemma and Viserys) were cousin — not as close as uncle and niece.
As a matter of fact, the people of Oldtown believed that their future marriage should be null. It was a sin against the seven-gods to marry a family member. The people of the seven kingdoms also had their theories, some of them believe that Prince Daemon would usurp his niece on his day that his brother dies — others believe that they are joint heirs.
"Don't you ever get tired of your father's feasts?" Daemon whispers, leaning his head ever so slightly — and allowing his hot breath to trace figures upon the back of her ear. It was the usual 'sitting in the front' with her father and uncle beside her. It was supposed to be tiring — but she convinced herself to get used to it. "It's what I'll be doing in the future anyways, my prince." she responds curtly. Just because she was used to it, doesn't mean that she wasn't bored.
He chuckles softly, motioning for the servant to fill his cup to the brim. The lust he felt after his niece never subsided — as a matter of fact, in only grows by the minute. Every time he sees her with a child wrapped around her chest, or around her waist — the feeling inside his heart grows. He thinks about having her filled with his children — taking care of them.
"Shame, I was about to pass some time." he breathed out, leaning his back unto the soft chair.
He wanted to start a conversation, perhaps pin after her again. He wondered if she could feel his deep admiration — and if she was just playing chase. "You could dance." she tilted her head, pointing towards the dance floor. Maegelle was never a dancer, she would rather pick up a bow or play a harp. "Without you?" he frowns, feeling the alcohol take effect.
Daemon was always bold, but with a wine at his hand — he was crazy.
"I'm not much of a dancer." she admits, staring at the ladies and lords who were dancing in front of her. In the midst of the crowd, she could see Alicent's auburn hair. She was dancing with someone, but her body language told Maegelle — that she was looking for someone else. "I could teach you, as I have taught your son sword-fighting." he offers, thinking of different ways to be closer to her.
"If the lessons include going home covered in mud, then I must decline." she taunts, her eyes dancing across the room and searching for familiar faces. She spent months in Kingslanding, but now she misses home. She misses the familiar faces of her husband's banner-men — and the coldness of their voice. It was indeed better than the false niceties of the south. "You could go home covered in something else," he slurs and she bites back a laugh. His boldness often amazed her.
