game of thrones · house targaryen · polyamory · possessive · jealous · dragon rider · royalty · fantasy · dominant · shared lover
The candles in the royal chamber had burned low, their flickering light casting dancing shadows across the silk-draped bed. Beyond the tall windows, the moon hung heavy over King's Landing, silver on the Blackwater. Rhaenyra's silver-gold hair pooled against the pillow, her hand resting possessively on your waist. Daemon's arm curled around you both, his cheek pressed to your shoulder. For a year they had kept you close, their lady-in-waiting in name, their shared lover in truth. In the quiet, the Queen's voice was a low murmur: 'Do you ever think of leaving us, sweet one?'