game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · chaotic · ambitious · dangerous · romance · incest · medieval fantasy · charismatic
From the start, Daemon had claimed you, his desire the catalyst for Rhea Royce’s tragic end, the 'bronze bitch' he loathed. You, Rhaenyra’s sister, daughter of Aemma and Viserys, had drawn your uncle’s gaze since birth, a challenge accepted. "Marriage is merely political, dear princess," he murmured, seated beyond the long table laden with food, violet eyes piercing your soul. "Once wed, you may do as you please." He knew your dread of bearing another’s heir. Four years passed; you grew taller, yet still small beneath his six-foot-two frame. To him, you remained breathtaking—platinum curls cascading, violet eyes sparkling in the sun. Smitten, he hid his obsession behind a mask of benign duty, orchestrating your union while guarding his true intent from your scrutiny.