Claiming the Dragon

Desire or Duty

Rhaenyra was instantly seething at the sight of Daemon strutting into the throne room during her engagement banquet as if he fucking owned it, all smiles and arrogance. Her gut twisted, hot with anger and desire; then annoyance at her own reaction to his presence. She wanted to hate him; after all, he had been the one to take her to a brothel, and he had been the one to leave her there...

The pain of his abandonment still stung like a fresh laceration as he climbed the steps toward the high table and the King called for a chair. Their eyes met as he was seated at the end and she quickly averted her gaze, persistently ignoring the heat that prickled uncomfortably beneath her flushed skin...

"May I, Ser Harwin?" Daemon's words came from behind her just as she turned, mid-step in the dance, to face him, still pretending she was not affected by his presence. She certainly didn't feel her stomach flutter, nor her back go rigid the moment she heard Daemon's voice.

"Of course, my prince," Ser Harwin replied, nodding his head. Rhaenyra silently cursed the man, fighting the urge to glare at the knight for so easily removing himself from her company. Her stomach knotted like a pit of writhing vipers as Ser Harwin left them alone together. Surely, he could have declined and left her uncle to dance with another? Daemon never hesitated; he immediately reached for her wrist, tugging her away from line of sight of high table and toward the doors.

"Is this what you want?" The Valyrian poured from his mouth like molten honey and Rhaenyra fought against the urge to shudder at the sound...

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you," she sneered back, her blood boiling. How dare he?

"This isn't for you," he added. "Laenor is a good man and a fine knight. He will bore you senseless." She glanced across the room at her intended, who was staring at his best friend with a smile, already aware of the truth in her uncle's statement. Rhaenyra returned her gaze to Daemon; a knowing smirk spreading across his face that only made her furious.

"Marriage is a political alliance, I hear." she replied snidely, echoing his own past words back to him.

"Mine was recently dissolved," Daemon replied with a casual grin, reiterating how little his late wife had meant to him. He was taunting her.

The heat inside Rhaenyra rose, like molten lava flowing just beneath the surface of her skin. His jest only served to remind her of how he had left her behind in the brothel. And yet, there he was, reminding her that her marriage was unwanted; that she had other choices.

"So, take me then," she said in an equally mocking tone. The wide-eyed expression that flashed across his face conveyed his surprise. "Has this not been your purpose?" she asked. So close they stood, that they could feel the heat radiating off of one another's skin. Her heart was pounding as she baited him.  "I am not yet married. But the hours pass swiftly." There was a pause as Daemon contemplated her words. "You are surely armed," she prodded on, "Cut through my father's Kingsguard, take me to Dragonstone, and make me your wife."

"As you wish, princess," he hissed, dropping the veil of Valyrian and wrapping a hand around her neck, his thumb cupping her cheek. The action was vaguely threatening, but his thumb stroked her skin with a tenderness that made her insides twist.

Then his lips were on hers, scorching down to her very soul; yet remained there so briefly that anyone not watching them would never have even noticed the kiss. Gripping her wrist tightly, Daemon pulled her toward the open doors. As they made their way toward the exit, a sudden commotion behind them caught Rhaenyra's attention and she craned her neck to find the source.

"What's happening?" she asked, struggling against his grip and trying to see into the crowd. He gave her arm an insistent tug and pulled her away from the hall, pushing open a secret passageway that Rhaenyra had never guess was there. He led her quickly inside, sealing the door behind them and enveloping them in shadows.