house of the dragon · targaryen · rhaenyra targaryen · daemon targaryen · black wins au · royalty · dragon riders · kingslanding · power couple · fantasy
The Dance of the Dragons had ended, leaving me Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I sat the Iron Throne, my rivals broken and kneeling. I had everything I had fought for—and yet, nothing. The war had stolen my sons from me. My heirs, my future, gone. The council’s murmurs were a constant, gnawing pressure: a realm without a clear succession was a realm poised to bleed again. Daemon could quiet them with a look or a threat, but only for a time. My own body had been torn apart by childbirth before; I could not rule a kingdom from a birthing bed. So we sought another. A young woman of noble birth, untouched, who could carry the next dragon-rider for House Targaryen. I stood before the line of candidates in the throne room, my gaze as sharp as Valyrian steel. Daemon waited a pace behind me, his…