As ward of the Queen, Camilla Tully was raised alongside the Princess, Rhaenyra, and the Hand of the King's daughter, Alicent. The three were rarely seen apart, where one was the other two would not be found far. That is until Queen Aemma died and t...
Oops! Questa immagine non segue le nostre linee guida sui contenuti. Per continuare la pubblicazione, provare a rimuoverlo o caricare un altro.
The celebration had been ruined by Ser Criston's actions and Ser Joffrey's death. With no idea how to proceed, Lord Lyonel had recommended holding the wedding that very night. After the crowd had been cleared from the Great Hall, many leaving that very night to return back to their homes and castles, and the dead man's body had been removed, the High Septon had been called.
"The love of the Seven is holy and eternal. The source of life and love." The High Septon spoke. "We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one. Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows."
"I am yours and you are mine," Ser Laenor spoke, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Whatever may come."
"I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come." Rhaenyra's voice was stronger than that of her now husbands. The Princess stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Ser Laenor's cheek.
"Here, in the presence of gods and men, I proclaim Laenor of House Velaryon and Rhaenyra of House Targaryen to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul now and forever."
Camilla had felt her husband begin rocking, before falling to the floor. The King landed in a heap at his wife's feet. Everyone except Laenor and the High Septon rushed to the King's side.
★・・・・・・★
Leaving the Great Hall after the sad affair that was Rhaenyra and Laenor's quick wedding, Camilla had stopped a servant, asking if they had seen Ser Criston. She had wondered what had become of the King's Guard after he had killed someone, if he had been captured and taken to the dungeons. The maid had been little help, but thankfully Lord Evander had still been roaming the halls and had seen where Ser Criston had disappeared to.
The kind man had lead his Queen into the dark Godswood, finding Ser Criston knelt in front of the weirwood tree. His armor had been removed and the padding he wore underneath had been pushed to the side, his sword lay on the ground beside him, a dagger rested in his hands pointed at his stomach.
"Ser Criston." Camilla called, stopping the man from ending his life. "Come with me please."
★・・・・・・★
By the time Camilla had retired to her chambers it was well into the hour of the wolf. Thankfully a servant had lit a fire, casting light across the room. She had poured herself a glass of wine and was staring into the pitch black outside her window when a familiar click, one she had not expected to hear in these chambers, reached her ears.
Camilla didn't need to turn to where a soft creak came from to realize Daemon had found his way into her room. With a sigh Camilla turned to the table where a pitcher of arbor red sat, she refilled her cup and poured a new one for her guest.
Daemon stood in front of her hearth, watching the flames dance. He happily took the goblet, lifting it to his thin lips. Camilla turned as memories of how those lips felt on her skin danced through her mind.
"Why are you here, Daemon?"
"Can I not visit my shadow anymore?"
"I am no longer your shadow," Camilla spat. "Perhaps you should find your way to Rhaenyra's rooms, I'm sure she'd be happy to entertain you."
"But I do not want Rhaenyra." Daemon placed his goblet on the table behind them, before wrapping his arms around Camilla's waist. His chin rested on her shoulder, his nose rubbing against her jaw. "I want you."
For a moment Camilla allowed herself to melt into Daemon's familiar embrace. She hadn't realized just how she had missed his touch, his warmth. His lips brushed against her jawline, nipping at the space behind her ear.
"You are mine, you always have been and always will be."
"I was, Daemon," Camilla spoke, turning in his arms so she could face him. "Until you left me behind."
"A mistake I will not make twice. Leave with me."
"Where would we go? Neither of us have any land to our names."
"Does that matter?"
"Of Course it does, Daemon. I am a mother, I have to think of my children-"
"And what of my children? Do they not deserve to meet their father? To know me?"
"Viserys is their father. In the eyes of the realm and the law." Camilla attempted to step back, to escape Daemon's grasp, but his grip remained tight, holding her in place.
"Am I meant to watch from afar as my brother raises my son and daughter? To be complacent with that?" Tears pricked in the corners of Daemon's eyes. For as long as Camilla had known him she had never seen him cry, never seen the regret clearly written on his face.
Something softened inside of her. Without a thought Camilla raised a hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing against the fragile skin under his eye. Daemon held her hand tight to his cheek, closing his eyes as he leaned into her touch.
"Why did you not take me with you?"
Daemon seethed, attempting to choke down the vitriol bubbling up within him at the reminder of his mistake. "I had nothing more to offer you, Camilla. I was no longer my brother's heir."
"I did not care if you sat upon the Iron Throne, I just wished to be by your side." Camilla pulled him closer, until his forehead bumped against hers. "I would have left everything behind and followed you anywhere, if you had only asked."
The fire died down in his chest and a new different fire began to burn, this time lower. Daemon launched forward, pinning Camilla against his chest as his lips captured her own. One hand held her hip, digging his fingers into the flesh there. While the other wrapped around her throat, holding her in place.
Camilla's breath hitched as Daemon's finger's dug into her flesh. No doubt there would be markings there the next day. Camilla's own hands wrapped around his shoulders, one slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling it taut.
"Fuck." Daemon growled as he pulled from the kiss and Camilla's teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Blood melted into the kiss, from the cut on Daemon's lip.
The feel of cold metal against the side of his neck, shocked Daemon, his hand snapping around Camilla's wrist. Images of war and bloodshed flashed before the Prince's eyes before he shook his head to rid himself of the memories. His heart raced in his chest and blood thrummed in his ears.
"What is wrong?" Camilla whispered, concern painting her face.
Daemon's eyes focused on the metal hanging off of Camilla's wrist. A silver bracelet with rubies hanging off the chain and a dragon pendant with rubies for eyes and curved into a crescent shape hung off of Camilla's wrist.
"You kept it."
"Of course I did," Camilla responded. "It is my most prized possession."
Daemon merely hummed in response as his lips met Camilla's once again.
