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Chapter Text

“Wake up, Harry!”

“…Mionie?” Harriet asked while rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Where did you place your emergency trunk?" Hermione yelled at her,

“Huh? A what?”

“Your emergency trunk!”

Harriet pointed to her dresser.

Hermione retrieved the emergency trunk and Harriet's outdoor clothes and robes. “Put this on! Quickly!” She threw the clothes to Harriet.

"What happened?" Harriet asked, hastily changing her clothes.

“Just change your clothes! Hurry!” Hermione yelled while transferring whatever item was in her beaded bag into Harriet's trunk. Once she emptied her bag and Harriet finished changing her clothes, Hermione resized the trunk into the size of a pendant, conjuring a chain and then making Harriet wear it. Satisfied with her work, Hermione nodded and dragged Harry toward the backdoor.

Yet before they could even leave the vicinity of Grimmauld's Place, a dozen Aurors led by Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared and blocked their way.

“King?” Harriet asked.

Guilt flashed on Kingsley's face. “Please surrender peacefully.” He pleaded.

“How could you do this to Harry!?”

Harriet finally grasps the situation.

Hermione drew her wand, and Kingsley raised his own wand to defend himself while instructing all the Aurors behind him to keep their wand down. “Don’t make this difficult, Hermione.”

“You know how much sacrifice Harriet made to save us all!”

Kingsley's eyes glistened under a street lamp. “Please, stop resisting; you will only make it difficult for everyone, for Ronald.”

Hermione took a sharp breath.

Harriet reaches for Hermione's hand and makes her lower her wand. “You have Ron?” she asks calmly.

Kingsley nodded.

“Is he unharmed?”

Kingsley nodded again.

“Swear on your magic that you will protect and fully pardon Ron, Hermione, their family, and my godson Edward Lupin.”

“Harriet!” Hermione protested.

Harriet squeezed Hermione's hand. “Ron, Rose, and Hugo need you, Mione,” she reminded her.

“But!”

“It's fine.” She smiled at her best friend. "If you swear you will pardon them of any crime and ensure their well-being, I will surrender willingly."

Once Kingsley finished the unbreakable oath with Hermione, Harriet snapped her wand in half, threw it to Kingsley's feet, then proceeded to kneel on the ground with both hands behind her head.

“Everything will be just fine, Mionie.” Harriet smiled at the crying Hermione before closing her eyes and letting the Aurors take her away.

Harriet's trial passed quickly; she was relieved that none of her friends insisted on testifying on her behalf. She could not bear the guilt of being labeled as Dark simply because they attempted to save her life.

The sound of the judge's gavel snapped Harriet from her reverie: “We, The Wizengamot, find Harriet Lily Potter proven guilty of the charge of practicing forbidden Dark Magic that resulted in her achieving immortality.”

Harriet sighed. If she had just heeded Hermione's warning and maintained her glamour to make herself appear older like her peers, none of this mess would have occurred. However, it's futile to lament over lost opportunities, isn't it?

“—Any last words, Miss Potter?” The judge asked with a sadistic smile, which reminded her of Umbridge.

Harriet ignored the rest of the spectators and only focused on Ron and Hermione. “I'm off to the next great adventure.” She gives them the best assuring smile.

Hermione immediately burst into tears in Ron's arms.

“Take care.” Harriet said the words to Ron, and her best friend nodded solemnly.

“I'm really sorry, Miss Potter.” One of the two Aurors who accompanied her toward the Veil said.

“Don’t be. My godfather once went through this veil; he said it was not painful at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

The other auror on Harriet's left side let out a choked sob, tears falling from her chin.

Harriet sighed; she patted the female auror shoulder before proceeding to climb the stairs alone. Once she reached the edge of the veil, Harriet took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her body fall into the veil.

She was curious about the type of adventure she would embark on.

Chapter Text

Harriet

“What kind of adventure is this?!” Harriet cried while furiously kicking the dirt around her sore feet.

She spent hours walking without finding anything, leaving her stranded in the middle of an endless field of grass.

Harriet tried to return her necklace-trunk to its original size with mock wandless magic, but to no avail; she could not undo Hermione's spell with her mediocre wandless skill.

“I wish I still had my wand.” She groaned, regretting deeply her choice to snap her holly wand in half.

Suddenly, something smooth touches the tip of her finger, causing her to shriek in horror, unsure if it's an animal or, worse, a venomous snake. Harriet jerks her hand off the ground and hugs it tightly upon her beating heart, her eyes darting toward whatever touches her hand. Her jaw dropped when she recognized what the object was. “What?! How?!” She picked up the Elder Wand from the ground and said, “I'm sure I snapped you in half!”

The Elder Wand suddenly buzzed with energy that pricked Harriet's hand, making her yelp in pain and drop the Wand.

Harriet could only gape in disbelief at the piece of wood that was currently buzzing angrily.

“I'm sorry! I'm truly sorry; I won’t do it again. Would you let me use you?” She asks politely, as if the piece of wood is a lunatic.

Seeing the Elder Wand become still on the ground, Harriet cautiously picked it up once more. She let out a sigh of relief when the wand did not attempt to hurt her again.

She swished the wand, and immediately her emergency trunk returned to its normal size. Thank Merlin and Morgana!” She almost burst into tears.

The Elder Wand buzzed again.

“Yes, thanks to you too, Elder Wand!” Harriet kissed the wand; she didn’t care anymore how crazy she looked right now.

Prior to opening the trunk, Harriet turned off the muggle-worth switch.

She cried when she saw the magical staircase that led into the private apartment below. Without second thoughts, Harriet went inside.

Daemon

“Seriously, Viserys?”

"Yes, Daemon, I'm seriously asking you as your king to go out to find this so-called witch.”

“You're aware you had enough soldiers to do that, right?”

“I tried; all the soldiers I sent always returned empty-handed.”

Daemon rolled his eyes. “That only means the rumors are false, dear brother.”

“There are many witnesses to this, Daemon. People are restless!”

Daemon scowls at Viserys.

“A final attempt,” his brother said. “I'm sending a group of soldiers to meet you in that grass field. Ser Harrold, as well as two Kingsguards, will be present. Together, all of you will search and determine if there is any credence to those strange rumors.”

“If this is your will as the king, then I shall do as you bid.”

I beg you as your brother and king—you are our last hope.

Daemon let out a groan, “As you wish, your grace.” He gives Viserys a mocking courtesy.

“Did she look like a witch to you?!” When one of his gold cloaks brought her a slender young woman with auburn hair, Daemon spat angrily.

"She could disguise as a commoner, my prince." Said the gold cloaks.

With all the pent-up frustration in his body, Daemon slapped the man's head and said, "You idiot! the witch rumored to have raven's black hair!" He spat angrily.

The gold cloak lowered his gaze and pouted as he rubbed his throbbing head.

Before mounting Caraxes, Daemon let out an exasperated sigh and began to scour the Kingswood from the sky.

Daemon almost gave up and returned to Kings Landing when he saw a flash of red spark between the lush green of the forest.

He squinted his eyes in response to the red spark, which moved toward the open field south of Kingswood.

He then landed Caraxes at the forest edge, and not long after that, a woman with raven hair emerged from the forest right towards them. Facing a dragon, the woman, likely a witch, screams something about Merlin from the top of her lungs.

Daemon almost laughed out loud when he saw the woman point a worthless stick at Caraxes.

Viserys ordered him to catch the witch alive, but Daemon thought it was too much trouble. “Dracarys!” He yelled that Viserys would execute the witch if he handed her over to the Septon, so there was no reason to worry.

Daemon expected charred remains once Caraxes' fire died down, but to his surprise, the witch still there stood up tall with her tiny stick pointed at Caraxes like the fire never touched her at all.

“Dracarys!” Daemon repeated, and once more Caraxes breathed flame.

Once again, after the fire subsided, the woman remained unburnt.

“I swear in the name of Merlin, I'll kill you if you order your dragon to breathe fire once more!” The witch spat angrily.

Harriet

“Stupid muggle! Stupid oversized lizard!” Harriet spat angrily, unaware that she switched from English to Parseltongue.

“A Speaker?” The red, oversized lizard asked in awe.

Harriet blinked at the creature, “You understand me?”

“Yess...” the oversized lizard nodded. “I heard many stories of the speaker; Balerion said the speaker died with Valyria.” 

“Balerion? Valyria?”

The lanky dragon nodded excitedly and said, "Balerion is our leader."

“The muggle on your back?”

“No, my pretty pet is not Balerion; Balerion is a dragon, a mighty dragon, our mighty leader, father of all dragons.”

Harriet can’t help but snort loudly, “Pretty pet?”

“My pet is the prettiest among other pets.” The dragon declares proudly.

Harriet glanced at the pale-haired muggle on the dragon's back; he was indeed an attractive one with a pretty face. “Yes, he is quite pretty, but very rude. Who in their right mind greeted someone with fire?”

"My pet had a big fire inside him that was as large as his heart."

Harriet scrunched her nose. So, in other words, the red dragon's pretty pet is a big softie with a fiery temperament? What a combination! “What is your name, O’ Great Dragon?”

“Caraxes the Blood Wyrm, what is yours, speaker?”

“Harriet, Harriet Lily Potter.” 

“Too mouthful, I'll call you Pretty Eyes speaker.”

Harriet burst out laughing; on the other hand, the muggle kept ordering Caraxes in a foreign language that Harriet had never heard before.

“Foolish pets, dragons were forbidden to harm a speaker.” Caraxes huffed in annoyance.

“Truly?” Harriet asked in disbelief.

“Balerion said he cannot harm the speaker.”

“Aaahh, can I meet him? Balerion?”

“Cannot, perished long ago.”

“Ah, my condolences.” Harriet can’t help but feel sad upon hearing about the great dragon's demise, even though she never met him before.

The muggle began to whip Caraxes; it definitely did not harm the wyrm since dragon scales were hard enough, but that didn’t mean the gesture was not annoying him.

“Stop annoying Caraxes!” Harriet shouted to the muggle.

The muggle halted, his alluring violet eyes growing wide in disbelief. “How?” That's all he asked.

“How what?”

“How did you know Caraxes' name?”

“He told me.” Harriet shrugged.

The muggle's mouth hangs open comically.

"Look, mister, even you shouted till you lost your voice; Caraxes wouldn’t breathe another fire toward me; he is forbidden to do so.”

“How dare you bewitch my dragon with your magic!” The muggle roared angrily; he jumped down from Caraxes back before drawing his long sword.

“Woah! Easy there!” Harriet lifted her hand slightly. “I didn’t bewitch or charm your dragon!”

“You thought I'm gullible enough to believe the words of a witch?”

“Muggle.” Harriet sighs and throws a stupefy at the pale-haired muggle.

The spell collides with the muggle's long sword, and it bounces back to Harriet, who exclaims, "Merlin fucking beard!" She barely evades the spell.

The mugger looked as shocked as Harriet.

Harriet recovered first; she purposefully aimed the sword and struck it with a stinging jinx and a disarming spell, but each of them bounced back just like the stupefying spell, leaving her to wonder, "What is the name of Merlin that sword is made of?"

“Who the fuck even the Merlin is?!” The muggle spat back.

Chapter Text

Daemon

The witch was not exactly what Daemon expected.

She was obviously neither a toothless old crone nor a middle-aged woman who had just bathed in the dirt.

How curious… How could she appear unexpectedly too well groomed for a person who’d been fleeing for days? Though her clothes were nondescript and her hair wasn’t properly styled for fine company, Daemon didn’t miss the peculiar inaccuracies:

They’re days away from settlements and many miles away from a river, yet the girl does not smell.

No sweat from walking for days marred her clear skin, nor did dried mud, the smell of stale food, or even dirt. Even in the middle of nowhere, she prioritized cleaning her teeth, washing up, and even brushing her hair.

Yet the witch's eyes were what gave Daemon the most pause.

Large, lushful emerald green orbs.

The prettiest green eyes Daemon had ever seen; they almost looked magical!

"What is the name of Merlin that makes that sword?" The witch shouted after hitting his sword with another two-blasted magic of hers.

“Who the fuck even Merlin is?!” Daemon yelled back furiously.

Again, for God knows how much time already Daemon heard Caraxes let out hisses like he never heard before.

The witch hissed back, and then said, “Steel from Valyrian that forge with dragon flame?! No wonder it could bounce back my magic! The sword is magical!” The witch exclaimed before hissing again at Caraxes, to which Caraxes replied with another hiss; it's almost like they were conversing in hiss!

Daemon's jaw dropped.

“Look here, Mister! I truly didn’t charm your dragon, Caraxes is forbidden to harm me because Balerion, his deceased leader, instructed him to never harm a speaker.”

Daemon felt the impact of a large boulder on his head. Not only did she know his dragon name, but now she also knew about Balerion! The smallfolk reported that the witch only occasionally came and healed the sick, then vanished without ever saying anything like a ghost.

"Are you truly capable of communicating with the dragon?"

"Yes, I am.”

“Unburnt and also a speaker…” Daemon's violet eyes glinted with newfound interest. “Are you from Valyria?”

"I'm not; I came from a place named Britain.”

“Brit-tain?” 

The witch narrowed her eyes, "You didn't know who Merlin is... The king in this kingdom is not named Arthur..." No magical community... No creature except Dragons..." she winced, "This is not Camelot, isn’t it?”

“Camelot? No, this is Westeros, my brother’s kingdom.”

“Bloody Potter Luck!” The witch wailed loudly.

"You're seriously talking a lot of nonsense.” Daemon huffed, “Who is Merlin, who is Potter?”

“Err… Merlin is the greatest wizard that ever lived.” The witch scratches her temple and says, “And Potter is my name, Harriet Lily Potter.”

Daemon raised his eyebrow. “What a peculiar name...”

“What's yours?” The Witch Demand.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen, son of Prince Baelon Targaryen the brave, brother of King Viserys Targaryen.”

The witch had the audacity to snort, “How could you say that my name was peculiar when you have such a ridiculous name?!”

“I can have your tongue for slandering the royal name!” Daemon glared at the witch.

The witch, Harriet, lifts both hands in a sign of surrender and says, “Forgive me, your Highness.” She said it almost mockingly.

Daemon rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, you want to know what Caraxes called you?” Harriet's eyes glinted mischievously.

Daemon's brow furrowed, what Caraxes called him? Of course, his son will refer to him as his master.

“He called you his Pretty Pet.” Harriet even needs to bite her own lips to stifle her laughter.

Daemon took a sharp breath, he glared at both Caraxes and Harriet the witch.

"Oh, don’t be sour about it, Daemon Targaryen.”

Daemon glared at the witch.

Harriet pursed her lips and mumbled, “—my prince,” before continuing, “Dragons were never meant to be a pet or even a slave, they're proud magical creatures,”

“Magical Creatures?”

“Yes, in my…previous life?” Harriet sounds unsure, “There's a lot of other magical creatures besides dragons, such as a horse with a horn, a horse with a wing, a goat with a lionhead and snaketail, and oh, there's also one horse called Thestral, you could only see them if you have witnessed death,”

“How…bizarre!”

“I know right!” Harriet grinned widely, “And I don't know if this will ease your heart or not, but Caraxes named me his Pretty Eyes Speaker, I think that is how they named humans in general. Most dragons and snakes I've ever seen before called me Speaker.” 

Daemon blinked; well, Harriet does indeed have pretty eyes.

“How exactly are you able to speak with Caraxes?”

"Is the hissing sound similar to a snake's hiss?" It's called Parseltongue,”

"Did all the witches have the ability?"

“No, you need to be born with it, like a family trait.”

“So I assume you were born in a family of speakers?”

Harriet shook her head; she smiled wryly before showing Daemon the lightning bolt scar on her forehead. "Long story short, there's a Dark Lord who tried to kill me but failed, leaving me with this scar and the ability."

Harriet

“Lady Harriet Lily Potter from House of Grif-in-door?” The king inquired in confusion.

“House of Gryffindor, your Grace, one of four great houses in the kingdom of Hogwarts.” Harriet can’t believe she actually described it like that. Well,  she needs to adapt to survive this unknown realm, isn't she?

“I never heard of that kingdom before; where is Hog-wash located?” Ask an old man dressed in dark green robes with a shiny pin in the shape of a hand on his chest.

Harriet needs to remind herself not to laugh. Daemon warns her to behave and mind her words; otherwise, she could lose her head. “Hogwarts is located on the northern part of Britain's island, a Far far away land beyond the veil... My lord?” The old men look posh enough to be a lord, hope she was right and not offended him.

“So you’re a northerner?!” Accused the old man with a triumphant glint in his eyes.

Heartiet could hear the court member, the cunts Damon called them, begin to whisper something about Wildings and something about barbarians.

"She is not like someone who appears to have come from the north." The king spoke. “My brother said you are unburned and also could speak with the dragon, are you truly sure that you are not from Valyria?”

"Yes, I'm sure of your grace."

While waiting for the king to finish his talk with Daemon and the old man in green, Harriet practically bounced on her toes.

People kept glancing curiously and pointing their fingers at her, Harriet ignored all of it, it was not her first rodeo, and after all the years living as a girl-who-lived clearly did not end in vain.

“Do you have any intention to teach your magic to the people?” After some time, the king inquired.

“I don’t think it's possible, your grace, One needs to be born with magic in order to learn it,” not like she had the knowledge or resources to create a wand for able to teach people some magic properly.

The king nodded his head. “Do you have the intention to convert my people to accept your faith and make them leave the seven?”

Did the king imply that she intended to convert the people of Westeros to believe in Merlin and Jesus Christ? Harriet almost snickered, "No, Your Grace, I wouldn't. In my country, it's illegal to persuade people to leave their faith."

“Good! Very good!” The king mused,

Harriet glanced at Daemon, and the prince gave her a satisfied nod, while the old man in green regarded her with distrust. She huffed.

“What that old man problem really?” Harriet questions Daemon.

“Who?”

“The one dressed in dark green with a shiny pin on his chest.”

“Otto? Hand of the king?”

“Hand of the king? Like a prime minister?”

“a what?”

"Who assists the king in governing his kingdom?"

“Ah.” Daemon nodded. “Yes, the Hand of the King's job is to help the King rule its kingdom... So what about him?”

“I don’t know why he acted all hostile from the start, like he wanted to burn me at the stake so badly, what did I even possibly do to him? Did I accidentally piss on his ancestor's graves or something?” Harriet huffed.

Daemon let out a delightful laugh, “Never mind about that cunt, it's how he acts to everyone.”

“Except to your brother.” Harriet gives him a knowing smile.

Daemon smirked at her and said, “Except for my brother.”

Harriet hummed, “So I'm officially an esteemed guest of the kingdom?”

“Yes.”

"Fancy titles of a hostage aren't they?"

Daemon stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, come on, Daemon, you think I'm that gullible? I am aware that the king needs to keep me under his watch so I won’t cause trouble in his kingdom.”

“Are you going to run away?”

"Depend, if you give me a reason to run away, I would. If not, I stay," she says. She shrugs.

“And what do I need to do to make you stay?”

"Decent lodging and food are provided three times a day... away from Otto?”

Daemon snorted, “I shall see it done.”

“Good, I’ll stay then.” She smiled.

Chapter Text

Daemon

Daemon impatiently tapped his forefinger on the table. He glanced at the window behind Viserys, only to realize how high the sun was already in the sky, Harriet must’ve already waited for hours now! 

Daemon huffed in annoyance. He should be outside with Harriet, soaring in the sky looking for Vhagar’s current nest, not trapped inside small council members surrounded by oldmen who are busy pretending to care about the smallfolk's well-being when they never once walk among those people.

“Lastly, any new things regarding Lady Harriet Potter?” Viserys asked.

Daemon was about to ask what Viserys meant by a new thing about Harriet when Ser Ryam spoke, “Lady Potter never once approached or came near the Queen and Princess, your grace. If not with Prince Daemon, Lady spent most of her day in her chamber; she sometimes went to the library to borrow a book or two,” Ser Ryam answered.

"The majority of the books that Lady Potter borrowed are about the history of Westeros, and there are some old books with Valyrian text, Your Grace." Grand Maester added.

“Lady Potter never asked for anything Your Grace, not even a fabric to make her dress, all the allowance Crown bestowed on her goes straight to the orphanage and soup kitchen, anonymously.” Lord Beesbury spoke.

Daemon’s temple twitched in rage; he clenched his fist to keep his anger at the bay. 

How dare His brother tell his councilmen to spy on HIS Harriet after he said he could only trust HIM to keep an eye on her?

“Really? What a peculiar lady." Visery hums happily. “Daemon? "Do you want anything added?"

Add anything? He dared to ask him that. “No, your grace.” He answered between his gritted teeth.

After receiving Daemon's harsh response, Viserys blinks at him in surprise.

“Since there's nothing to discuss anymore, I shall excuse myself.” Daemon rose from his seat, tossed his marble ball to the velvet centerpiece, and then walked out of the room without looking back.

Walking from the small council chamber to Harriet's apartment near the armory didn’t snuff Daemon's anger even the slightest. 

The only thing that completely dissipated his anger was when he found Harriet sleeping soundly on her bed. The young woman didn’t even stir when Daemon sat on her bedside and began caressing her messy raven hair.

Harriet was sleeping on her side, hugging a bundle that was emitting heat protectively. On her bedside, there was an open journal that caught Daemon’s eyes.

Hagrid: Feed a bucket of brandy and chicken blood to a newborn dragon once every half hour.

Who’s Hagrid? Daemon continued to read.

Charlie: Maintain egg temperature, never leave it on an open fire, too much heat will cook the egg and kill the hatchling, and not enough heat will turn the egg into stone. The recommended temperature is 1,300 to 2,200 °F. 

We use dead rats as rewards for good behavior.

Scale Rot Treatment: rub the affected area with a solution of sea salt, tar, and white spirits.

Recognizing dragon eggs...

How to clip a dragon's talons...

Daemon blinked in amazement. How could his witch possess more knowledge than seasoned Dragon Keepers?

“…Daemon?” Harriet rubs her sleepy eyes.

“Hey…” Daemon answered,

Harriet brings Daemon’s hand to her cheek and giggles, “Did you know that your hand is almost as warm as Caraxes’ scale?”

The corner of Daemon’s mouth twitches into a small smile, “Truly?”

“Mmhm.” Harriet happily rubbed her cheek on his hand, like a little kitten.

Daemon slowly rubs his thumb over Harriet's jawline and says, “We should leave now if we want to find Vhagar.”

“Can we go tomorrow?” Harriet yawned.

“What makes you stay up late?”

Harriet squirmed, “I spent the whole night turning wine into Brandy and butchering dozens of chickens while keeping these two at the right temperature.” She patted the bundle that she was hugging all this time.

Daemon halted, Brandy, chicken, keeping the right temperature? He felt a lump forming inside his throat, “Harriet…”

Harriet opened her eyes lazily. "Yes, Daemon?”

“Are you trying to hatch a dragon?" He asked carefully.

Harriet nodded, “Dreamfyre asked me to—” She yawned again. “I was in the middle of asking Caraxes story about Valyria that he heard from Balerion when Dreamfyre came to us, she asked whether I had the ability to hatch dragon’s eggs or not. I honestly responded, "Theoretically, I could, as Hagrid and Charlie had taught me everything they knew, but I never had the opportunity to practice because it's illegal to possess a dragon's egg in my world, you know." She blabbed before yawning once more, then rubbed her bleary eyes.

Daemon fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, “And it's not occurred to you, maybe it's also illegal to possess one here?”

Harriet's eyes snapped open and went wide, she slowly covered her mouth and shook her head.

“You and your impulse!" Demon groaned.

“I'm sorry!” Harriet cried. "Dreamfyre stated that since her pet's death, there have been no new hatchlings for years; she felt lonely, especially after Balerion's death, and Syrax always flew with her pet."

Daemon exhaled deeply, “It's fine... There’s still time for us to return the egg to the vault... I’ll tell the Keeper that we happened to stumble upon these eggs—”

A loud crack was heard.

Harriet gasped.

Daemon stun.

More cracking sound was heard, Harriet quickly unwrapped the bundle, and they watched two small dragons slowly emerge from their eggs, one had gleaming golden scales like beaten gold with pink wing membrane, and the other one had silver scales and bright golden eyes.

"Awww, look at them!” Harriet squealed in delight, forgetting all her previous distress, she quickly summoned two buckets of brandy and chicken blood mixture and fed the hatchlings.

Once the hatchlings finished drinking all the bucket's contents in relish, they began to hiss at Harriet. Harriet hissed back then laughed, and she hissed again,  “They ask if I'm their mom! I told them I wasn't, and then they asked if you were their mom!" She laughed beautifully. “We need to bring them to Dreamfyre as soon as they can stand on their own two feet.”

Daemon stares at the two sleeping dragon hatchlings on his lap; he is overjoyed to see the new hatchlings, of course. The birth of a new dragon always meant a good omen and prosperity for Targaryen; however, what would this mean for Harriet? She basically committed a serious crime against the crown; she stole a dragon egg and hatched it without the king's permission. No doubt Otto would use this opportunity to get rid of Harriet from court.

Daemon must do something! Fast! He cannot lose His Harriet.

“I can’t believe my own eyes! You really hatched these two by yourself?!” Viserys carefully cradled the golden hatchling.

“Yes, Your Grace, and I'm truly sorry for not seeking your permission first…” Harriet lowered her head in shame.

“You’re forgiven—” 

Harriet's face lit up.

“—This one time,” Viserys said in mocking sternness.

Harriet pursued her lower lips and said, "Of course, your grace. I'm grateful for your generosity, your grace."

Viserys chuckled.

Harriet glanced at Daemon, and he gave her an affirmation nod, She quickly excused herself to teach the Dragon Keeper how to make her concoction of Brandy and Chicken Blood.

Daemon decided to come right to Viserys, he carefully explained the situation to his brother, and as he predicted, Viserys was more elated upon learning that there was a new dragon hatched during his reign than inclined to punish Harriet for her insolence.

“No one shall know that Harriet was the one who hatched these dragons,” Daemon told Viserys. Before his brother was able to respond to his statement, Daemon continued, “To keep her involvement secret is crucial, brother." If the maester got hold of the information that you allowed a foreigner, like Harriet, to hatch a dragon egg, they would immediately demand the right to examine our dragons, or even worse, they would ask permission to borrow our precious eggs. Under any circumstances, we shall not let that happen.”

Viserys' expression turned serious when he realized how dire the situation was, “I understand.” He said.

Daemon felt a huge relief wash over him. “Have you chosen a name for the hatchlings?”

“I was thinking of naming the golden one Sunfyre and the silver one Meraxes,”

Daemon nodded in agreement, “Fitting a name for both, especially the silver one, it’s truly like the description of Queen Rhaenys’ dragon, silver with bright golden eyes.”

Viserys and Daemon hand over Sunfyre and Meraxes to the Dragon Keeper to be transported secretly to the Dragon Pit. Tomorrow at the Small Council meeting, the same Dragon Keeper would request an audience to announce the birth of the new dragons, and Viserys would have his banquet.

In Valyrian, Viserys told the Dragonkeeper, "I entrusted Sunfyre and Meraxes to you."

“I will not fail you, your grace.” Before taking his leave with the two hatchlings, the dragonkeeper answered.

“Sunfyre and Meraxes?” Harriet asked.

“Mmhm, Viserys had decided on the name,” Daemon responds.

“Do I need to inform the dragonkeeper that Sunfyre is a male and Meraxes is a female on my next visit?” Harriet asks.

“How could you tell the gender of the dragon?" Viserys asked curiously.

“My friend Charlie taught me and Hagrid to ensure we wouldn’t make another blunder when naming a dragon.” Harriet smiled somewhat sadly, “Hagrid once illegally hatched a dragon and named it Norbert, he thought the dragon was a male, but later Charlie informed us that Norbert was a female, and he had to change her name to Norberta.”

“You named a dragon, Norbert?!” Daemon scrunched his nose in disgust.

“Hagrid does, not me, and just for your information, Norbert means Northern Brightness, a strong name for a dragon.” 

“No, it's horrible! You cannot use a mundane name for such a precious creature! That's it, you are forever forbidden to name anything.”

“Hey!” Harriet protested.

Daemon flicked Harriet's nose, making her sneer at him.

“Come now, our search for Vhagar was far long overdue.” Daemon offered his hand, which Harriet received immediately.

“Searching Vhagar? What for?” Viserys asked curiously.

“Harriet wants to ask Vhagar about the story Balerion often told to our dragons,” Daemon explains.

“Balerion telling our dragons stories?”

Indeed, Your Grace, Balerion not only narrates stories but also appears to instruct other dragons like Vhagar, Meraxes, Dreamfyre, Vermithor, and Silverwing in the art of speaking in serpent tongue. However, the younger ones, like Meleys and Syrax, only learn by listening to stories, and their language skills are far below the others.”

“How about Caraxes?”

“Caraxes is different; the serpent tongue is his main language, probably caused by his wolfhead structure and deviated septum,” Harriet explains.

“How fascinating, No wonder Daemon spent hours discussing with you! Could you teach the other dragons the serpent tongue?”

"If the dragon was willing to learn, your grace,"

Viserys looks surprised.

“Serpent tongue is like a second language to them, Brother, and apparently Syrax refused to learn when Harriet and Caraxes offered to teach her.”

“They…refused?”

“Dragons are not slaves, Your Grace.” Harriet said, making Viserys stiffen for some reason, "They don't mean to be chained, but I understand you only did what you did for the safety of your people." Harriet smiled wryly.

"Harriet and I planned to make a dragon sanctuary far from the small folks settlement," Daemon said nonchalantly, earning a kick to the side of his boots.

“Only if I could replicate the Wards that Romanian’s dragon reserve uses!” Harriet glared at him. “I told you Wards need Ancient Runes and Arithmetic, and I was bonkers at Arithmetic.” Harriet huffed.

“You could do it, I believe in you.” Daemon smiled, once he was done teasing Harriet, he finally realized the weird stare that his brother gave him, “What?” He asked.

Viserys shook his head, “Nothing.” He answers vaguely.

Harriet

“Blasted Merlin’s pants! I have never seen a dragon that big before!” Harriet gasped in awe when she first saw Vhagar. “I thought she was a small mountain at first!”

Daemon chuckled, “Vhagar is the queen of dragons; she is currently our largest dragon after Balerion is deceased.”

“Balerion was bigger than Vhagar?!”

“I can show you his skull if you want.”

“You asking me!? Of course, I want to see!”

Daemon chuckled, “Once we return to Red Keep, I'll show you.”

Harriet exclaimed, "Deal!" before hurriedly approaching the sleeping Vhagar.

“Greetings, Vhagar, queen of all dragons." Harriet hissed.

Vhagar's eyes immediately snapped open, her golden serpent irises focused upon Harriet. “A speaker…” she rumbled.

“Pleasure to see you, O’ mighty queen; my name is Harriet Potter.”

“A pet that could talk to us… I should've known… should know that Balerion wouldn’t lie… not to me… Hopelessly fool he may but never a liar…never a liar…” The she-dragon practically ignored Harriet completely.

“May I ask something, O' queen of all dragons?”

“You may not.” She answered immediately.

Harriet blinked, did Vhagar just refuse her? For real? “…May I ask why?”

“Because I said so.” The queen of Dragon closed her eyes and went into slumber once more.

Harriet can’t decide if she wants to laugh or cry at this moment. Vhagar was her only hope to learn about Valyria's speakers.

“Something wrong?” Daemon asked.

“…She refused to talk to me.”

Daemon's eyebrows raised high, almost touching his hairline, “…why?”

“Because she didn’t want to.”

“That's it?”

“That's it,” Harriet exhaled deeply, “I'm sorry for wasting your time, I didn’t want to push the ancient dragon further and draw her ire since I didn’t know if my flame-freezing spell was strong enough against her hundred-year flame.”

“Flame-freezing spell?”

“Yes, the one that makes Caraxes’ fire unable to harm me.”

“Ah, that's how you are able to remain unburnt.”

“Yes, and I still would kill you if you tried that stunt again.”

Daemon barked a laugh, “Truly?”

“Magic does not always work like you intended to, Daemon. freezing a small fire like a candle or a small bonfire maybe would always work perfectly, however, to freeze fire with magical properties like Fiendfire and Dragon’s fire, the result may vary.”

Daemon looked quite surprised, “…I see, it quite surprises me to know that even magic has its own limit.”

“Everything has its own limit, Only death that is absolute.”

“Only death that is absolute.” Daemon hummed in agreement.

“….And tax,” Harrie adds.

“Pardon?”

“Tax to the crown is absolute too, isn't it?.” Harriet grinned.

Daemon barked a laugh. “You’re the most interesting person I ever encountered, lady Harriet,”

“I'm flattered, my prince.” Harriet made a mock bow for him.

“Cheeky woman,” Daemon said as he offered his arm, which Harriet happily accepted.

Once they return to the red, Daemon leads Harriet straight to Balerion's shrine. 

“Merlin’s saggy tits! Look at the size of this skull!” Harriet exclaimed, “I can practically walk through its eye socket! And that fangs! Holy shite! It's even bigger than a basilisk head!”

"I still can't understand how you can claim to idolize this Merlin person like your gods, yet you keep disparaging him, talking about his beard, his saggy tits, and his pants."

Harriet immediately went flustered like a boiled crab, “Oh that… it's just how people talk…I never really think about it...” 

Daemon shook his head in amusement, “I think that benefits from having Mortal as your god, huh?”

Harriet’s vibrant green eyes lit up, “probably! I mean Merlin was never portrayed as a jealous and unforgiving God that would punish his worshipper for a little mistake, I think Merlin is the most chill wizard ever, I mean he helps Arthur and everything else.”

Daemon nodded in understanding.

“Anyway, What did you do to the rest of Balerion's body?”

“Pardon?”

“The rest of the body, skin, the bone, the entrails, heart string, blood?”

“We preserve the skin and bones but everything else we burn on a funeral pyre.”

“Such a waste!” Harriet gasped, “There are twelve uses of dragon blood you know! You can even clean the oven with it!”

“Cleaning what?!” Daemon gasped in aghast.

“And the heartstring, it's the main ingredient for crafting a wand!” Harriet completely ignored Daemon’s aghast. “Well it's not like I could make one but, such a wasteful of Dragon’s remains.”

“Harriet, do repeat what you just said.”

“Cleaning the oven with Dragon blood?”

“No, not that, and do refrain from mentioning that blasphemous idea out loud ever again, the thing about Heartstring.”

“Oh, Dragon Heart Sting is one of many Cores…uhhhh…main ingredients? "To create a wand, a magical wand, like mine." Harriet shows Daemon the stick she always carried around.

“People with magic need a wand in order to channel their magic properly, merlin knows how much door break due to my clumsy wandless magic,” she chuckled, “and as I also already mentioned, I don’t have the slightest idea how to make it,”

“Why not?”

“There's a special crafter who makes it, called a wand maker. Even in my previous world, there's only a handful of them.”

“I see…” Daemon humm, “What a precious art, just like Valyrian Steel’s smith.”

"Exactly!" Harriet nodded.

Chapter Text

Harriet.

Harriet didn’t know how to describe how chaotic her peaceful life turned for worse in the past month, 

A storm?

A tornado? 

A tsunami? …Ah Yes Tsunami. Would be a fitting parable. 

Imagine you were at the beach minding your own business and suddenly out of nowhere a massive tidal wave came crashing down on you, turning your entire world upside down.

It starts with Daemon's defeat on the tourney. 

Well, the defeat was mostly caused by Daemon's own arrogance that knows no bounds but still, Harriet was certain the defeat was a bad omen. She swore she could feel Death's skeletal finger brush her cheek, and its black veil descended upon the red brick fortress.

“I thought you said you failed your fortune-telling class,” Daemon said when Harriet healed his wound with a couple of healing spells.

“It's Divination! And I indeed failed but that is not the point!” Harriet scowls.

Daemon chuckled, “I don’t believe in such things,”

“I don’t either, but!”

“Don’t overthink it,” Daemon ruffled Harriet's hair, “Thank you for healing me, I'll be at the tavern, drinking with my gold cloaks.”

Harriet sighs, Daemon is right, she shouldn’t overthink it…

Later that night Harriet heard that Queen Aemma Targaryen died during her difficult labor.

Not long after the news of Queen's demise, Harriet once again heard that the newborn Crown prince began to have breathing difficulties.

“I could help!” Harriet told Harwin Strong, the guard that appointment by Daemon.

“I had no doubt your magic could save the crown prince from his current illness, my lady, But think in the long term, If something happened to the prince later, no one but you will be held responsible.”

Harwin words were like a hard slap on Harriet's face.

Anapneo spell indeed could cure the difficulty breathing but what if there's another illness? What if there's a complication?

“Please just stay put in your room, my lady,” Harwin pleaded.

Harriet took a couple of steps back from the door, “…I will… I…thank you Ser…”

Harwin nods before closing the door.

Hours after that the newborn baby followed his mother to the afterlife.

Harriet thought everything would slowly return to normal, after the funeral pyre and everything but…

“I don’t even know what the queen looks like!” Harriet cried in frustration when one evening Harwin informed her that Otto happened to accuse her of magic for being the reason for the Queen and the crown prince's demise at the small council.

“That's what my father also said to the other councilmen, my lady.” Harwin tried to calm Harriet down. “You don’t need to worry, almost all council members..." Harwin cringed, "Except The Hand and Grand Maester vouch for your innocence. After all the whole keep know my lady never once meet nor be near the queen.”

“And yet the fact didn’t stop that Git accused me of doing such a vile act!” Harriet covers her face in frustration. She wants to scream, she wants to feed that Horrible dour man to Caraxes so badly!

Harriet never thought she would hate someone as much as she hated Umbridge till Otto Hightower proved she could.

The vile man is Umbridge's incarnation, Harriet sure of it.

“All will be fine, my lady,” Harwin assured her.

No! Nothing will be fine as long as she and Otto still breathe the same air. Harriet needs to leave, “Where’s Daemon?” She asked.

Hearing Daemon's name makes Harwin's demeanor completely change, “…The commander?”

“Yes your commander, Daemon Targaryen, where is he?”

“The commander…he…”

“He what?” Harriet urged impatiently.

“He—”

Harriet was livid, 

When she heard the news from Harwin she truly wanted to yank Daemon's pretty hair and slap his handsome face senseless.

Harriet is well aware that Daemon has the emotional range of a toddler and tends to make a drama of everything but to make toast and call his own deceased nephew an heir for a day? 

Seriously Daemon?! What he had been thinking?!

What a stupid prick! Stupid stupid prick who doesn't even know how to grieve properly.

“Are you stupid?” Harriet spat as she entered  Daemon’s chamber.

Daemon ignored her, he continued to pack his belongings in silence.

Harriet exhaled deeply, “Just cease your stupid plan and run away with me.”

Daemon halted, he turned around to face Harriet and squinted his eyes suspiciously at her.

“I know your plan to seize Dragonstone with your Gold Cloaks,” Harriet rolled her eyes, “What is your objective really? If you just want to get your brother's attention there are many other things you could do instead angered him evermore."

Daemon’s jaw hardened, “I'm not trying to get my brother's attention!” He hiss angrily.

“Oh really? So you going to seize the Dragonstone for yourself? Declare yourself king over your beloved brother? Could you really dethrone the brother you love so dearly, Daemon?”

With lightning speed, Daemon stood up and wrapped his finger tightly around Harriet's neck, “You dare to mock me?!”

In retaliation, Harriet dug the tip of her wand into Daemon's neck, the gesture enough to make Daemon ease his grip on her neck, “I'm not mocking you, you bloody pillock! I tried to make you see some sense!” Harriet spat.

Daemon  sucks in a breath, shock visible on his face for a second before it is smoothed over

“Did you know how greatly it troubles me to see you keep sabotaging yourself and fall right into Otto’s petty schemes?”

Daemon's finger on Harriet's throat twitched, “…Why?”

“Because I care for you! You hot-blooded drama prince!” Harriet yell.

Daemon's eyes widened in shock, he slowly pulled his hand off Harriet’s neck.

“You’re my first friend in this strange realm…” Harriet mirrored the gesture by lowering her wand. “I still have not forgotten that you tried to kill me, TWICE on our first meeting!” Harriet glared at Daemon, making the man wince uncomfortably, “But we’re friends now, isn’t that enough reason?”

Daemon’s Adam apple bobbing, his eyes staring at Harriet with uncertainty, “You can’t leave… it would make you even look guilty.”

“I will leave! with or without you! I don't care even your brother declared me a fugitive!” Harriet said sternly, “I refused to remain in this keep waiting for the day Otto threw me straight to The Black Cell.”

“My brother wouldn’t allow—”

“Your brother wasn't even aware he was under Otto's thumb all this time! I am sorry Daemon but I can’t allow myself to gamble my fate on a blind man.”

“Otto—”

“Wouldn’t stop until he had my head served on a platter! I'm the embodiment of all things he hates about women!” Harriet let out a long-suffering sigh, “I am not you Daemon, Otto cannot touch you because you're the prince of this realm but I'm nobody here! Without your protection, Otto would burn me at stakes at the first chance he got!”

Harriet began to tremble,

“People named me their Saviour in my previous world, I saved them TWICE from the most evil Dark Lord! I sacrificed my whole life for them! I died for them!” Harriet let out a bitter laugh, “And all of that didn’t stop them from framing me and falsely accusing me of doing something so vile!”

Harriet felt her heart beating on the base of her throat,

“They arrested and Imprisoned me like an animal! And then they— they—!”

Harriet felt lightheaded and found it difficult to breathe, her whole body practically shaken when she revived the memory of her execution day…

Daemon cupped both Harriet's cheeks, “Ssshhh…breathe, Harriet…” he whispered.

Harriet took a shaky breath.

“…slowly…yes… just like that…”

Daemon rested his forehead against her.

Harriet's breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Have you packed all your stuff?” Daemon asks after some time.

“…I never unpacked…” Harriet confessed, that she never truly settled in the keep, she knew she would need to be ready to flee anytime.

Daemon huffed a laugh, “Harwin, are you there?” Daemon called.

Harwin cautiously entered Daemon’s chambers, “Yes Commander?”

Daemon took off his gold cloaks and tossed the big shiny brooch to Harwin’s palm, “Go to Gold Cloak’s barracks and inform Luthor to cease all the plans, and tell him that I appointed you as Commander for the time being.” 

Harwin's jaw dropped, and his eyes darted back and forth between Daemon and the big brooch in his hand. “You…leaving, commander?”

“I am, I'm going to venture Essos with Harriet.”

Harriet squeezed Daemon's hand.

“Ah and If the Small Council happened to call you for questioning, just tell my brother that If I truly want his crown, why haven't I sat on the Iron Throne yet?”

Harwin's eyes widened. “What…what about Lady Harriet? She will look guilty if she leaves now…”

“She cried her eyes out when she saw a rabbit being gutted!” Daemon groaned.

Harriet kicked Daemon’s boots, “I can butcher chicken just fine!”

“Yes, yes, The only livestock that you could eat as a whole.” Daemon rolled his eyes. “My point is, there's no way our Lady Harriet here able to kill a newborn babe.”

Harriet pouted, she kicked Daemon's boots again before shrunken all his trunks and shoved them into her pocket.

“…How could we contact you, my prince?” Harwin asked.

“You can’t, and I don’t wish to be contacted,” Daemon said before taking Harriet's hand and leaving everything behind without looking back.

Kings Landing - Small Council Chamber

“Anything else we need to Discuss?” Viserys asked.

The whole chamber went silent and the councilman started awkwardly staring at each other, neither of them seemed brave enough to break the news to their king.

“What is it?” Viserys demands.

Otto cleared his throat, “There's a rumor from across the sea, Your Grace…” he began.

“What about?”

“About a Pale-haired Dragon Lord who rides a ferocious slender Red dragon and his Powerful Witch wife…”

Viserys gasped.

“We heard the Dragon Lord and his witch wife helped Prince of YiTi to Dethrone his Uncle, the God-Emperor.” Inform Maester Mellos.

“There's also a rumor that the said Dragon lord let his beast loose and burned half of Dothraki Sea,” Otto adds.

The corner of Viserys' eyes began to twitch uncontrollably.

“I heard one of the King of Qarth tried to force himself upon the Dragon Lord’s witch wife and the said witch retaliated by blowing the said king along with his castle,” Lyonel reported.

Helping a coup, burning half the territory of Essos' most savage tribe, and blowing up the King’s castle?

Viserys pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, how merely two people could create such great destruction?!

“…any compensation demands yet?” Viserys is unable to hide worry from his tone.

“No, Your Grace, there's no compensation demands nor letter of complaint,” Otto answered.

For the first time since hearing the news, Viserys felt he could breathe.

“We need to demand Prince Daemon and Lady…Potter returned to Westeros before they inflicted more destruction, Your Grace.” Otto said.

“But how to, Lord Hand? You know The Prince himself refused to be contacted, we even had to send letters to many cities in Essos but not even once Prince Daemon sent a reply.” Lyonel reminds them.

Viserys could only watch in silence as his councilmen debated the best ways to get hold of his brother.

His brother who he banished.

His brother who wed without his permission.

His brother who unleashed chaos in Essos.

His brother who he deeply misses…

Chapter Text

YiTi - Capital Yin - Jade Palace.

Daemon.

“Your wife?!” Harriet roared in common tongue once the servants left their room, “We’re not even married Daemon!” 

“Lowered your voice, Harry!” Daemon hissed. “I don’t know how things run where you came from but here, it's uncommon for a man and unmarried woman to travel together, especially without an entourage, it will be safe for you and your reputation if people think you’re my wife.”

“Middle Ages and all its orthodoxy!!” Harriet groaned, and swished her wand angrily around the room to cast a protection and privacy charm, “I still can't believe you so nonchalantly introduced me as your wife to the God-Emperor, You can introduce me as your sister, your cousin, or whatever.”

“Stop whining, first we are nothing alike, and second what's so bad about becoming my wife anyway? Honestly, You should rather be honored to have a handsome Dragon Lord for a husband, you know.”

Harriet sneered at him and then draped her invisible robe over her shoulders.

“Where do you think you’re going at this hour?” Daemon hissed lowly.

“Gathering information,” Harriet pulled the cloak over her head then slipped away from the room.

Daemon sighs, Harriet and her ‘Constant Vigilance’ certainly getting worse after their short trip to Asshai. 

Well, Daemon can’t blame Harriet though. He himself still occasionally gets goosebumps whenever he revives the memories of their short trip there. He swore he would never step foot in that sinister city ever again. Once in a lifetime is enough, he wouldn’t do it again even if someone bribed him with a ship full of gold.

Daemon rolled to lay on his side when he heard the door of their chamber creak open, “How’s your little investigation going?” He teasingly asked.

“Don’t unpack,” Harriet answered while storing her precious invisibility cloak safely in her bag.

“That bad?” He asks while patting the empty space on the bed beside him.

Harriet sat at the edge of the bed and began to undo her braid, “on the scale of one to Asshai I would say it's three.”

Daemon barks a laugh, Harriet always has a peculiar way of describing things, “only three but you suggest not to unpack?”

“I need to gather more info, all I learned tonight is that The God-Emperor is not what he claimed to be,”

“Oh?”

Harriet nodded, “Remember the sickly prince?”

“The frail one with a walking stick?”

“Yes, the emperor introduced him as one of his sons, didn’t he?” Daemon nodded, “Turns out he was not, the sickly prince is Emperor’s nephew, the firstborn son of the late God-Emperor who died of poisoning.”

“Oho~” Daemon chimed, what a juicy finding.

“The emperor apparently not only usurped the throne, he also held the prince hostage to keep the previous Emperor Loyalist in check.” Harriet yawns, “The current God-Emperor is much much worse than your Grand-uncle Maegor. He is a tyrant, cruel, corrupt, and worst of all he is a nasty pervert! I overheard that He likes to kidnap virgin maidens to…ugh…fill his depraved fetishes… please remind me to curse him before we leave YiTi.”

“Curse him with what? Your tripping jinx or the stinging one?” Daemon teases.

Harriet rolled her eyes at him, “I’ll use the eunuch curse, a very dark curse. It would make the Emperor’s dick will remain useless and limpy until his death. A fitting punishment for a pervert.” She explains in detail.

Daemon let out a long painful hiss upon hearing the explicit description of the curse, he truly regrets ever asking the question. “Remind me to never be on your bad side.” He grimaced, cupping his groin which throbbed uncomfortably inside his pants.

Harriet giggled in delight as she cupped Daemon’s cheek and gave a light peck on the other, “Good night, Daemon.” She said, smiling so sweetly.

“Good night, Harry,” Daemon replied, holding the urge to claim sweet lips of her.

“Here in YiTi, Dragons are representative of benevolence and power, it's described in the old text the dragons were supposed to have control over watery phenomena, like summoning rain during a drought and many more else.” The God-Emperor explains,

Daemon nodded solemnly, he paid no attention to Emperor rambling, he was just amazed by how Harriet’s magic was able to make him understand and speak the language that he never learned before.

“When I first saw your Caraxes, I thought it was a sign from heaven that my reign would be a long and prosperous one!” The emperor laughed loudly, all pleased with himself, “And to add my joy it's not just any Dragon that descended upon my land, it was a Red Dragon, the bringer of Happiness and good luck!” his greedy eyes gleaming under the run as it focused on Caraxes.

“I had no doubt that your reign would be a long and prosperous one, Your Highness,” Daemon answered politely.

Harriet rolled her eyes.

Daemon glared at Harriet and reminded her to keep her mouth shut.

Behind the Emperor's back, Harriet makes a gesture of locking her mouth then puts the imaginary key on Daemon’s hand.

“Cheeky woman,” Daemon muttered between his smiles.

Harriet sticks her tongue out at him and then runs to hug Caraxes.

“Your wife also shares the same bond you have with your dragon?” The Emperor asks when he sees Harriet hug then caress Caraxes’ long neck without care in the world. 

“Not quite… their bond is different than mine,” Daemon answered, “Sometimes I felt Caraxes preferred my wife over me, his lord.” 

The emperor chuckled, “I really can’t blame him, no healthy male would refuse the company of such a talented and beautiful woman like your wife.” 

The corner of Daemon's eyes twitched when He saw the Emperor begin to leer at Harriet’s body from top to bottom, that pervert even had the gall to shamelessly stare at Harriet’s bosom so openly, “…Shame she was already claimed…” The man muttered before patting Daemon's back and laughing loudly, “You such a lucky man, Dragon Lord!” 

Holding the urge to choke the life out of the Emperor, Daemon responded with a strained smile, “I am well aware, Your Highness.” 

“Please forgive my lord father’s callousness, Dragon Lord,” said the Sickly Frail Prince once The Emperor was out of hearing range.

Daemon blinked in surprise at the prince, it's the very first time he ever heard the boy speak, By old Gods and New, Daemon thought the boy was mute all this time!

“My lord?”

Daemon smoothened his expression, “Ah yes, You don’t need to worry about it, Prince Jar Yi.”

The boy’s pale blue lips curved upwards, forming a small kind smile, “May I ask something, My lord?”

“Do ask, my prince.”

The Frail Prince stopped on his track to admire Caraxes from safe distance, “What is it like to ride a Dragon, my Lord?”

“Well…” Daemon looks at Caraxes, recalling the memories of the day he claimed the Crimson Dragon, “I would say it’s felt Liberating,” Daemon smiled.

“Ah, it must have felt wonderful.” The boy mused solemnly.

Daemon feels a sudden urge to take the young prince for a ride around the Capital of Yi like how Queen Visenya once took Ronnel Arryn. 

However, unlike Ronnel Arryn who took to the sky as king and landed as a lordling. The Frail Prince would likely become the new God-Emperor upon landing from the back of Daemon’s crimson Red Dragon.

Daemon was certain that If the people of YiTi knew their prince, their rightful ruler who was usurped by his evil uncle was able to ride a red dragon, they would see it as a mandate from heaven and start rallying behind the prince to dethrone the current God-Emperor. 

No matter how much he wants to kill that Perverted Emperor he cannot risk getting involved in the rebellion, not just because it's not safe for him and Harriet, but also because his involvement may or may not impact with volatile peace between Westeros and Essos. The stakes are simply too high, even for a Rogue Prince.

“Daemon!” Harriet calls for him, “A little help.”

“Coming, dearest.” Daemon answers before excusing himself from Prince Jar Yi’s entourage.

Upon reaching the uphill Daemon could hear Harriet yell in frustration in Common Tongue, “You're going to roast it anyway!” 

Caraxes who somehow seemed to understand what Harriet just said expressed his clear defiance by puffing smoke directly at Harriet's face.

“RUDE!” She smacks Caraxes’ snout in retaliation.

“Now, now, what happened here?” Daemon stood between Caraxes and Harriet.

“Your big lanky baby refused to eat dead gutted sheep.” Harriet scowls at Caraxes,

“Isn’t he now?” Daemon chuckled in amusement, as he helped Harriet clean her face from soot and ashes, “May I ask why you cannot give him a live sheep?”

“Because I need to restock this,” Harriet shows Daemon a strange-looking stone that she stored inside a small glass jar. “This is called Bezoar, it can be found inside sheep stomachs.” She put the small jar on Daemon’s open palm, “This could neutralize most poisons, Keep this close,”

Daemon nodded, he pocketed the item and then urged Caraxes to stop sulking and eat the dead sheep.

With great annoyance, Caraxes finally yielded and ate what he called long-dead-tasteless-sheeps.

“What now?” Daemon asks when Harriet starts grabbing her Invisible Cloaks right after they return to their chamber.

“I'm going to spy on Prince Jar Yi,” Harriet answers.

“Spy on The Frail Prince? What for? We are going to leave for Qarth in one week, Harry.”

“Something has been bugging me, Daemon, doesn't the prince strike you as odd? I am certain he is keeping a big secret,” 

“Everyone had their secret, Harry,” Daemon reminded her. 

“You don’t understand, Daemon.” Harriet bounced on her toes impatiently, “He’s so frail and looks could collapse anytime yet he didn’t break a sweat when he hiked the hill with us to see Caraxes up close,”

Daemon blinked at Harriet, “…Oh!”

“See! And remember when we walked downhill on our way back?”

“Yes, you were tripped and the prince caught you before you fell face first.”

Harriet nodded, “I swear his arm had muscles! Just Like yours!”

Daemon scrunched his nose, there's no way a frail man like Prince Jar Yi could have the muscle mass of a swordsman like him, “He is not like someone who could wield a sword, Harry.”

“I know! But if he was truly frail he wouldn't be able to catch me, Daemon! My weight would bring him down with me.”

A frown marred Daemon's forehead, “Okay, fine, but promise me to be careful,”

“I will.” Harriet pecks Daemon’s cheek before pulling her cloak over her head and slipping away into the night.

Hours later Harriet came back in frantic, “Daemon!” She looks terrified.

“What happened?” Daemon asked, holding Harriet’s elbows.

“We need to leave, now!” 

“Wha—”

“Now Daemon! We don’t have much time left!” Harriet swished her wand to pack all of their belongings into her trunk.

Daemon didn’t ask further, he strapped his Black Sister and his short sword onto his hips before putting on his black robe.

“You got everything?” Harriet asked.

Daemon grabbed his personal bag and nodded.

Harriet grabs his hand and they run all the way to the Palace’s Northern gate. When they arrived at the gate, two guards had already begun to push the gate close, without missing a beat Harriet stunned one guard and made the other one trip, “Tell your prince My Husband and I wouldn’t take any part in his plan!” Harriet spat at the guard.

Daemon's eyes widened, from the palace direction he began to hear faint sounds of metal clashing, yelling, and screaming. “Fuck! It's already started!” Daemon curse.

While running uphill to where Caraxes resided Harriet pressed the tip of her wand into her neck and then let out the loudest hiss Daemon ever heard.

Hearing that Caraxes jerked awake, the crimson dragon quickly stood up and crawled downhill to them.

Once they were up in the Capital's sky people started filling the street, pointing their finger at Caraxes.

Harriet once again pressed her wand against her throat, announcing to all people below that she and Daemon take no part in Prince Jar Yi’s plan.

“That should be enough,” Harriet told Daemon.

Daemon agreed and then directed Caraxes to fly west to Qarth, leaving YiTi behind.

“I ran a diagnostic spell on him and found out he’s perfectly healthy, can you believe that?!” Harriet cried in exasperation, 

“So he basically fools everyone while preparing his faction for a Rebellion.” Daemon mused as he kept Caraxes fly on the right track.

“Yes, He is! He fakes his limp and drinks some kind of potion that makes him look sickly pale and turns his lips blue! He really plans everything thoroughly!”

“I must say I'm impressed,” Daemon hummed.

“He had a plan to take us hostage and make us pledge our support to his cause, If we refused he would kill us and try to enslave Caraxes through Asshai’s magic” Harriet shuddered, she leaned back, seeking comfort.

“You did well.” Daemon wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her temple dearly, “I swear to the old God and the New that I wouldn’t mock your constant vigilance ever again.”

Harriet huffed a laugh and then rested her head on the man's shoulder.

Chapter Text

Harriet

“Aren’t you a bit far away from home, my friend?” Ask Vyronar Hesten, the Grain King, one of thirteen elders of Qarth, in the wheelhouse on their way to his manor.

“I am.” Daemon chuckled,

“Tell me what brings you far east.” The wealthy merchant urged.

“My wife—” Daemon kissed the back of Harriet's hand. “—had wished to express her wish to see the beauty of Essos, as a dutiful husband I cannot but obey my lady wife's wish.”

Harriet swore her heart skipped for a moment there, 

Vyronar Hesten's eyes widened, “Wife? Lady of Rune—”

“Rhea Royce was not the Woman I chose to marry, unlike my lady Harriet here,” Daemon smiled softly at Harriet.

Harriet returned the smile with a strained one.

Daemon Targaryen’s charm is truly not good for One’s faint heart!

“Ah~ Then accept my congratulations on your marriage, My friend, may the union bring you more prosperity.” The merchant quickly grasped the situation.

Daemon placed his palm upon his heart then nodded slightly, “You have my thanks, dear Vyronar.” 

When they finally arrive at Vyronar Hesten’s manor Harriet chooses to wander around the manor accompanied by one of Vyronar’s daughters while Daemon continues to talk with the merchant. 

“Your eyes are so pretty, my lady, I have never seen such a shade of green before.” Said the young woman.

“Thank you, your eyes are lovely too, like the ocean in the summer,” Harriet replied kindly.

The young woman blushed, she thanked Harriet, then continued to show the rest of the manor to Harriet.

The manor was huge and lavish, and the architecture reminded Harriet of Roman-style villas in Italy that she had sited once. “Your home is really beautiful, Lady Hesten.”

The young woman flushed with pride, “It’s nothing compared to the famous Redkeep, Lady Targaryen.”

The corner of Harriet’s eyes twitched upon hearing her new title. It feels so weird, Harriet had been Potter her entire life, but now people call her Lady Targaryen, thanks to Daemon who was too lazy to create another cover story for her.

“Trust me, The keep was not as pretty as it looked, I was rather inclined to like a home like this with a lot of windows and open space.”

“Truly?”

“Mmhm, there are a lot of ghosts there, not surprising since a lot of people died in that place, and not to forget to mention how King Maegor once brought so many skulls to decorate the Iron Throne.”

Lady Hesten's eyes grow wide as big as saucers in a mix of horror and amazement, “You can see a ghost?!”

Harrit slapped her forehead while cursing her blabbering mouth, “I shouldn’t say that.” She almost laughed at how she sounded like Hagrid.

Harriet didn’t lie though, there's a lot of ghosts in the Red Keep but all of them always run away when they see her, exactly like Hogwarts ghosts after the second war ended. Even the Bloody Baron was quite tense when they ever crossed paths.

“Are there any of them here?”

“Right now? I still haven't spotted one but we will see when the sun goes down.” Harriet wink mischievously at the lady.

“You're just messing with me aren’t you, my lady?” The young woman laughed.

Harriet just chuckled.

“You have a very beautiful house, Ser,” Harriet said once Vyornar Hesten’s daughter led her back to the Blue room.

“I'm glad to hear that my humble abode suits your taste, my lady.”

Humble abode? Is this merchant a Malfoys counterpart of this realm or do all Rich people simply love humble bragging? 

“Ah yes, I almost forgot, Daemon my friend, Would you give me the honour to host a garden party to celebrate your marriage?” Vyronar asked Daemon.

“You’re too generous my friend.” Daemon smiled.

Harriet subtly pinches Daemon’s side, “I don’t like parties!” She hissed low enough to only be heard by Daemon.

“Is rude to decline such an offer for your generous host. Be a good girl and play along,” Daemon whispers before kissing Harriet's cheek.

“Ah, seeing both of you truly warm my heart,”  Vyronar Hesten cooed.

“I wish I will soon meet a man that loved me like Prince Daemon loved Lady Harriet,” adds Vyronar’s daughter.

Harriet could only smile awkwardly.

“In time my dear, I'm sure of it,” Vyronar assured his daughter.

Harriet should already know that The rich’s ‘small’ garden party was not meant to be small by any means. 

There are a lot of guests. It almost felt like Vyornar Hester invited the whole city's upper class, there's thirteen members of Qarth Elders, all of them were present and every one of them seemed eager to make Daemon their acquaintance. 

Well, except for one elder, the leader of Qarth Warlock named Phra Thammarat who seems more eager to approach Harriet, even after Harriet subtly avoids him from the moment their eyes meet.

“Warlock of Qarth welcomes you—” Prha Thammarat bowed deeply after successfully cornering Harriet, “—Mistress of Death.”

Harriet held his breath as the chill like thousands of sharp icicles ran through her veins,

“Afraid not, we didn’t mean any harm,” the man's blue lips curved into a creepy smile. “Not all Asshai’i worship the lord of light, Mistress, the one who does may seek to harm you, but us here, we did not worship such a false god or many other Gods, we only worship the one absolute being…the death,”

Merlin's blasted pants! Can it be even creepier? Harriet thinks while trying to rub off the goosebumps from the back of her neck.

“If you need anything feel free to ask us at the house of undying, we will be honored to be able to serve you, mistress of Death.” The man once again bowed deeply then vanished in the crowd.

Godric’s heart! Harriet honestly wants to scream right there, why do weirdos always see her like a moth seeing a flame?

Harriet sighed deeply, she took a drink that was served by the servants, when she inspected the drink out of habit, for a moment there she hoped her gaze somehow could turn the wine into a butterbeer.

“Something Wrong with your drink, my lady?” Ask someone.

Harriet turned around and saw a man that Harriet had never seen before.

Seeing Harriet's discomfort upon being greeted by a stranger, the man placed his hand upon his heart and bowed slightly, “Please forgive my lack of manners, the name is Davos Dayne.”

Harriet frowned, she was sure she never met the man, yet how come she was familiar with his surname?

Before Harriet could recall where she had heard the name, she felt a hand snake across her shoulder followed by a strong body press onto her back, “Dayne.” Daemon said, his words seem laced with venom.

“Long time no see, Prince Daemon.” Davos Dayne smirks mischievously.

“Not long enough to my liking.” Daemon retorted, with one smooth movement Daemon removed the untouched goblet of wine from Harriet's hand and passed it to the moving servant.

Davos barked a laugh, “You wounded me, old friend.”

“We are never friends,” Daemon replied coldly.

“How cruel!” Davos Dayne feigned a hurt expression, “Did all those tavern brawls we fought side by side and all the whores we share in the brothels at Volantis hold no meaning for you?”

Harriet scrunched her nose. Daemon’s ferocious sexual appetite is legendary, but sharing a whore? In this civilization, without proper safety? Ew…

Daemon took an exhausting breath, “Just tell me what you want, Dayne.”

“I just want to ask if your offer still stands.” Davos Dayne’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“What offer?” Daemon genuinely sounds confused.

“You once said If I want a woman to warm my bed, I'm free to take your wife anytime, did the offer still stand?”

Harriet's mouth hung open, to say she was speechless was an understatement,

“It was a drunken japes you Twat!” Daemon shouted angrily, “And I said it with my Bronze Bitch in mind! my Harriet is out of the question!” 

Daemon's protective hands around Harriet’s shoulder and waist became tighter, pulling her flush completely to his body.

His chest was rumbling in anger, it heaved unsteadily on Harriet’s back.

Davos Dayne let out a disappointed sigh, “Shame… your Lady Harriet truly my type you know.” 

The man winked at Harriet, making her grimace in disgust.

“Wink at my wife again and I will rip your balls off your crotch, you fucker!” Daemon's anger finally erupted, and he snarled angrily exactly like Caraxes, if he could spit a fire, Davos Dayne would already burn to a crisp.

Harriet rubs Daemon’s arm like how she soothes Caraxes’ anger. “Daemon—” Harriet called the angry man, “—people are watching.” She warns him in a whisper.

“I don’t—” Daemon hissed but Harriet quickly cut him with a peck at the corner of his lips. it's the only thing Harriet could think to effectively distract Daemon from his burning anger at the moment, “I know you don’t, but I do, so calm yourself down, you hear me?”

Daemon stilled for a second before he nodded, Harriet hoped he truly meant it since she was not sure what state of Daemon’s mind right now since she was unable to see his face.

Harriet drew her wand and hit Davos with a stinging hex when he was about to run his big mouth again, “Don’t say it,” Harriet glared at the man ignoring his painful yelp. “You better Keep whatever you had in mind for yourself because my next hex wouldn’t be just a stinging one.”

The Cruciatus curse was already on the tip of her tongue but Harriet was uncertain whether the unforgivable curse could be fueled with disgust or not since she didn’t want to fire half-ass Cruciatus ever again, being laughed at by Bellatrix once was embarrassing enough.

Instead of frightened by Harriet's threat and magic Davos Dayne looks…aroused. There's a bulge steadily forming inside his pants. Davos Dayne's nostril flares, and he inhales sharply, “Daemon Targaryen you lucky bastard.” 

Harriet felt Daemon’s lips on top of her head curved into a smile.

Rowena’s wisdom! What in the actual fuck is wrong with these men?! They fight like mortal enemy then suddenly befriend like nothing had happened?

Later that night, Harriet vents to Caraxes.

“ Dragon cherished what is his, My pet protecting you, his mate. ”

“I'm not Daemon’s mate.”

“You could.”

“I won't! He had a wife, Caraxes.”

“That two-leg sheep at the mountain? Dragons can’t mate with sheep, dragons eat sheep.”

Harriet huffed a laugh, what a speech from a dragon, “I'm no dragon either.”

“But you’re a speaker, Balerion said Many Dragons mate with speakers in Valyria, you will be a good mate for my pet.”

Harriet rolled her eyes, “Can we talk about something else?”

“Why don't you want to be my pet’s mate? He’s pretty and strong, people fear him, he is a good mate,” Caraxes pushed.

“I told you I can’t, he had a wife!” Harriet flustered, she cannot deny Caraxes’ claim, Daemon is indeed both beautiful and a great warrior.

“I can eat that two-leg sheep, free my pet.”

“No! You absolutely cannot do that!”

“I could, I ate all noisy two-leg and its horse.”

“It's different!” Merlin! How to teach a dragon the difference between a Noble of Westeros and a Dothraki?

“They both have two legs and ride a horse.”

Harriet smacks her own forehead. “ You just cannot, it would upset the king.”

“I don’t care about that weak pet with shiny things on his head.”

Harriet can't help but laugh, “ Daemon loves him, you know, that pet with the shiny thing on his head.”

“I hold no love but for my pet and you.”

Harriet truly did not expect Caraxes would say that, “ You love me? Awww~ ” she cooed.

“ You’re my speaker, Dragon cherished what is his. ” Caraxes huffed a smoke.

“ Such a declaration of love. ” Harriet laughed before hugging Caraxes’ neck. “... I love you too, Caraxes. ” she felt much much better.

Chapter Text

Harriet

“Harry! There you are!” Daemon said while dismounting from a horse, 

Seeing Daemon fully dressed in his knight armor, Harriet immediately alerted, “What's wrong?” 

“Vyronar’s daughter, the one show you the manor, got kidnapped by Dothraki, I'm going to try to chase after them with Caraxes,”

Harriet gasped, “I'm coming too!” she shouted.

“Of course, you’re coming,” Daemon helped Harriet to settle at Caraxes saddle, “I may have had a dragon but how would I look for someone in the middle of the grass field.”

“Daemon Targaryen needing help? I thought he was almighty?” She teases him.

Daemon pressed a chaste kiss on Harriet's cheek, “I am, with you by my side, Harry dearest, I am almighty.”

Harriet felt her heart skip a beat again! At this rate she is certain sooner or later she will die of heart failure!

“Where to?” Daemon asks once they are up in the sky.

Harriet draws her wand, “Point me, Elosha Hesten.” She cast the spell and a spark of blue light immediately shot out from the tip of her wand and pointed to the northeast, familiar with the spell, Caraxes immediately changed its course to follow the blue light.

They found the Dothraki Horde not long after that riding fast toward Yunkai’s Border.

“It will take hours before Vyronar and his soldiers to catch up with us. We cannot let them enter Yunkai.” Daemon said.

The Dothraki start to ride in a circle when they see Caraxes fly above them.

“There’s thousands of them!” Harriet gasped.

“Thousand of meat and bones.”

“ Food .” Caraxes hiss.

“ No! We cannot just burn them! We came all the way here to rescue Elosha, not burn her alongside the Dothraki.” She reminds him.

“We cannot just duel them one by one.” Daemon reminded her.

Unable to reach any agreement, Harriet and Daemon decided to land first to see the situation from up close.

Once they landed, one Dothraki rode forward to face them, the man had copper-colored skin, black hair, and black eyes. He is tall and muscular and moves strangely gracefully. He has a long braid hung with dozens of tiny bells that hang down to his thighs. 

“He's the Khal, leader of the Dothraki horde,” Daemon whispers to her.

Harriet cast a translator spell to Daemon and her, “Surrender the girl you took and no one would be harmed.” Harriet said.

The Khal laughed loudly, “You will be the one who will be harmed, little girl! Look around you! You may have your beast but there's thousands of us!” The Dothraki spread his hand wide and his blood rider started to cheer.

Harriet ignores the deafening cheer, her eyes focused only on Elosha, the poor girl on her knee, held by hair by a Tall and muscular Dothraki beside the Khal, her hands and feet bound by a thick chain, and worst of all there's a huge crescent-shaped sword looming over her pale neck.

“On your call, Harry,” Daemon said.

“I can’t Daemon, the risk is too high!”

“Harry.” Daemon called her, and Harriet looked at him, “…She will die either way.”

Harriet held her breath, Daemon was right. 

If they try Elosha may die but if they don’t do anything she definitely will die. Mustering all her resolve, Harriet nodded, Daemon drew his long sword, prepared for confrontation. 

Harriet disarmed the Dothraki that held Elosha captive with Expelliarmus , the crescent-shaped sword flew smoothly from the man's grasp, shocking all the Dothraki who saw it including the Khal.

Without missing a beat, Harriet summoned the chain that bound Elosha's hands and feet with Accio , the girl immediately shot through the air towards Harriet.

Elosha was beyond hysteric when Harriet got her, Harriet had no choice but to knock her down with a sleeping spell, float her into Caraxes’ saddle, and bind her tightly there with an Incarcerous spell, “ Protect her, she is the one who sends you a fat cow every three days!” She told the dragon before the big lanky baby had a chance to protest.

“ Only this time, ” Caraxes grumbles before standing up and roasting Dothraki around them.

Harriet and Daemon fought side by side at the frontline while Caraxes burned all the Dothraki on the rear from the sky.

Harriet was in charge of knocking every Dothraki from their horse and Daemon did the rest. When the disarming and stunning spell quickly no longer makes a significant impact, Harriet switches to casting Depulso and Bombarda to blast several Dothraki and their horse at once.

“The Witch!!” Yell someone.

“Kill the witch first!” Yell another.

Oh, joy! “Yes, Yes!! Always fucking aim the witch fist, capture her, burn her at the stakes,” Harriet spat angrily.

Beside her Daemon snorted loudly while plunging his long sword upon two Dothraki’s heads at once.

“ Noisy two legs, Die!” Caraxes hissed before spitting the biggest fire Harriet ever saw came from him.

Harriet then starts to use a more lethal spell, Sectumsempra , Diffindo , and Confingo flew flawlessly from her wand, wounding and slowing a great number of Dothraki at once.

“Just How many of them really?!” Daemon spat, blood splattered all over his body, and strangely it didn’t disgust Harriet at all, rather growing something inside of her.

Harriet smacks her own cheek, she quickly Imperio two of the strongest looking Dothraki she could find, and makes him her puppet to slaughter their own people. It causes quite a lot of chaos within the Dothraki.

“Is there anything your magic can't do?” Daemon asked while decapitating a Dothraki with a single slash.

“There's a spell I don’t want to cast,” Harriet answered, she human transfigured one Dothraki into a big slab of rock and catapulted it to crush a great amount of Dothraki on the rear that escaped Caraxes' fire.

“Show off.” Daemon laughed.

Harriet laughed with him, she never felt so free and alive before.

Harriet only stops casting offensive spells after Vyronar’s private armies reach them and successfully repel the rest of the Dothraki horde.

“She is unharmed, she is just sleeping,” Harriet explains to Vyronar while Daemon hands oversleeping Elosha to the Merchant.

The wealthy merchant hauled his sleeping daughter in a tight embrace and began to cry his eyes out. “My daughter! Thank You, oh Thank you both of you!” He wailed.

Harriet smiled, the exhaustion finally catching on her, she felt lightheaded and almost stumbled backward but a strong arm caught her waist. “Got you.” Daemon smiled.

Harriet huffed a laugh, she rested her head on Daemon's shoulder.

When Harriet wakes, she feels sore everywhere like she was just trampled by a horde of Thestrals but there's something else. 

There’s an arm around her waist. 

Legs intertwined with hers.

A thigh wedged between her own. 

Soft breathing on her neck.

Daemon.

The memories from the night before flood back. Harriet remembers how Daemon brought her back to their chamber, how the servants helped her bathe because she was too exhausted to even lift a finger. After she cleaned and dried Daemon dismissed all the servants and tucked Harriet to bed himself. 

They must have gravitated towards each other, curling around each other for comfort in their exhaustion.

And now—

She feels something else press into her backside, and she freezes because she doesn’t know what else to do. Rationaly she knew that it's natural for a man to have their morning wood, but to feel it on your buttocks is a completely different thing, and the fact that It's been really a long time since she was intimate with someone in bed only makes everything worse.

Harriet hated herself for how her imagination started to run wild in her head, she felt like a pervert! Godric’s heart!

The both of them indeed occasionally share an intimate touch and embrace, however, this is the first time they shared the same bed, all this time Harriet always makes sure to sleep in her trunk.

She lies there for some time, pondering her next move, yet before she can think of a way to leave the bed without waking him up, Daemon stirs behind her. 

Making everything worse, Instead of letting her go, Daemon pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair. His knee is still lodged in between her legs. He inhaled a deep breath, which made Harriet shiver in need, Merlin help her! “How’s your feeling?” He asked softly.

“I think the ghosts of all the Horses I killed yesterday trampled me during my sleep.” Harriet sighs. 

Daemon laughed, kissed the top of Harriet’s head, then said “Regardless, You did really well yesterday…I wouldn’t make it without you.” 

Harriet turned around to take a look at Daemon, she raised her eyebrow, “Who are you? Where do you hide the real Daemon Targaryen?” She asked accusingly.

Daemon barked a laugh, “Cheeky woman.” He pinches her nose.

Harriet giggled, “Anyway, we don’t have anything to do right? I just want to Sleep, eat, and sleep again for the next two days.” She groaned like an elderly person with chronic joint pain.

“Mmhm, I don’t think Caraxes could fly anytime soon anyway.”

Harriet's eyes opened wide in shock, “Is he injured during the fight?!”

“Worry not, he’s unharmed.”

Harriet blinked in confusion, “then why couldn't he fly anytime soon?”

Daemon sighs deeply, “he simply just ate too much and refuses to do anything else besides sleeping in his cave, like a bear in winter.” 

Harriet’s mouth hung open before bursting laughing out loud, “Are you being serious right now?!”

“Yes, I'm serious, Harry.” Daemon scowls, “I even seal the cave entrance with a big boulder and ask Vyronar for occasional guard patrols to make sure no one disturbs Caraxes’ sleep.”

It makes Harriet laugh even more “Oh Merlin help me!” She wheezed. “How much did he eat anyway?”

“During the battle? not too much but apparently our friend Vyronar wanted to express his gratitude to Caraxes by sending three fattest cows he could find, and Caraxes, like the greedy dragon he is, ate everything.”

Harriet wiped the tears from her eyes, oh she never laughed this much for a long time, “He won't wake up until he fully ingests all those cows, you know that right?”

“Why do you think I bother to seal the cave entrance?” Daemon rolled his eyes, 

“I'll put a muggle-repelling charm and several other security charms on the cave entrance to ensure our greedy lanky baby sleeps without disruption,” Harriet said.

Daemon didn’t reply, when Harriet looked up to get a better look at the man, Daemon was wearing a strange and unreadable expression on his face that Harriet had never seen before.

“Daemon?”

Daemon quickly smoothens his expression, “Yes, yes, that will be perfect, thank you, Harry.”

Daemon

Our greedy lanky baby…

Their baby…

Daemon can’t stop thinking about it since Harriet uttered the word.

He cannot stop picturing a beautiful silver-haired baby with Harriet’s mischievous bright green eyes.

Would they be a Dragon Lord like him or a Magical being like Harriet? Wait…What if they end up being both? Daemon took a deep breath, he felt giddy just thinking about the possibility.

Yet a realization of his current situation instantly soured his mood greatly. The whole world may already acknowledge Harriet as his wife but Harriet herself wouldn’t ever agree to legally become his second wife. If even she somehow agrees, their children would still be viewed as bastards in the eyes of Faith of the Seven and Daemon would never dishonor his Harriet and their children like that, both of them are too precious to get such ill-treatment, and they deserve to be honored, they deserve to be glorified.

Rhea Royce must be gone.

“You and your wife had been the talk of the town,” said Davos Dayne who casually took the seat on the sofa in front of Daemon without permission.

“Why are you still here, don’t you have anything important to do?” 

“I'm here in my capacity as Dorne’s emissary,”

“Then do your job and stop showing your ugly mug to me!” Daemon scowl.

“The Thirteen still reviewing the proposal I brought, lucky you, I wouldn’t be going anywhere before my job is done.”

Daemon clicked his tongue in displeasure, “Next time raven me your schedule so we won’t end up in the same place ever again.”

Davos barks a laugh, “You don’t want to know what kind of proposal I brought all the way from Dorne?”

“No.”

Davos Dayne raised his eyebrow but Daemon didn’t wish to entertain the Dornish man, he needed to think of the best way to get rid of his bronze bitch once and for all.

First, he cannot go to the Vale himself, he is too recognizable, especially the Caraxes. If his presence in Vale is followed by Rhea's death, people definitely will start pointing fingers at him.

Should he hire someone to do the job? But what if the word spread? What If Harriet gets hold of the information and decides to leave him because she feels responsible for Rhea’s assassination? 

Fuck! What to do?!

Feeling ignored Davos Dayne struck another attempt at communication “So, tell me Daemon Targaryen, did you truly Burn half of Red Waste and Rescue Vyronar Hesten’s beloved daughter from Khal Daro and his 3000 BloodRider only with your wife and dragon by your side?”

“Half of Red Waste was burned?” Daemon asked coolly as he received another cup of wine from a servant.

“Yes, The fire was still burning brightly, and nobody dared to extinguish it.”

“...Don’t tell Harriet she will feel bad about it and try to put down the flame by herself.”

Davos raised his eyebrow, waiting for answers.

“To answer your other question, Those Savage almost reached the Yunkai border, waiting for Vyronar and his private armies is out of the question at the moment,” Daemon said nonchalantly.

“I know how ferocious your Dragon is, his fire even burns half of Red Waste, but the girl is unharmed Daemon! The only marks on her skin were caused by the chain that bound her! How did you manage to do that?”

“It's all my Harriet doing.” Daemon shrug, 

“…And?”

“My Harriet had magic,”

“That doesn't explain shit, You Prat!”

Daemon laughed, “She's not just any witch, Dayne, she is not the red priestess who is fiddling with fire, she is not those shamans who curse people with blood sacrifices, or like any self-declared witch and wizard we know. My Harriet is a warrior, she once defeated a very powerful Dark Wizard, the battleground is no strange place for her.”

“Fuck!” Davos cursed loudly, “Where did you find a woman like her?! She’s perfect!”

“She’s more than perfect.” Daemon lifted his goblet to Davos before sipping his wine. “You should see how she annihilated the Dothraki yesterday—” Daemon sighs, “—Absolutely divine.”

“Yes, yes, just keep rubbing it on my face, Prat.” Davos rolled his eyes.

Daemon laughed.

“Did she have plans to get a second husband?” Davos asks out of the blue.

“You want to die?” Daemon threw his empty goblet at Davos which he dodged easily,

“It's just merely a suggestion.” Davos grin

“Denied!” Daemon yells angrily.

“Daemon?” Harriet called him while prying off her dragonhide gloves.

Daemon stood up and hurried to Harriet's side, “Finished?”

Harriet yawned while nodding, “No muggle will come close to the cave and if someone tries to pry the boulders open from outside, I would know immediately.”

“Wonderful.” Daemon kisses her cheek. “Let's retreat then.”

Harriet glanced at Davos Dayne who was waving slyly, like a fox he is, “How about him?” She asked.

“Dayne is just about to excuse himself,” Daemon answered nonchalantly.

“I never said that,” Davos denied.

Daemon temple twitched, “You will leave or the servants will throw you off to the street.”

Harriet let out a soft giggle, “why are you two always fighting?”

“Because he is a twat.” Daemon leads them back to their chamber.

“I have news from King's Landing, apparently you have a new sister-in-law, Daemon,” Davos yelled and it was enough to make Daemon stop on his track.

Daemon turns around and asks, “Who?” 

The highest possibility is Laena, Corlys's daughter, young she may but marrying Laena would end the animosity between the Velaryon and the crown.

“Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower’s daughter.” Davos Dayne grins widely.

Harriet beside him gasped in disbelief.

It is quite funny to know that even Harriet, who was not adept with Westeros’ politics like Davos Dayne, was aware of how foolish Viserys’ choices were.

He could choose any lady from any major house in the Seven Kingdom, to gain political ally or simply just for a huge dowry to fill royal coffers to the brim, heck, he could even tie the knot to bring more territory if he chose to marry Aliandra Martell. Yet his stupid brother chooses the daughter of a second son who owns nothing but her cunt?

Daemon can’t help but start laughing at the injustice he feels,

Why is Viserys always able to make a series of stupid decisions and still get away with a crown in his head? 

Why does Daemon need to be the one who sacrifices decades of his life tied to a bronze sheep just to fill Royal coffers?

He trains with the swords to protect him, 

He rides a dragon to win his battle, 

It is he who raised an army to support his claim.

After all of those sacrifices, love, and support he poured for his brother, Viserys still banished him from his side and denied his only wish to divorce Rhea Royce.

Daemon truly didn’t know what to feel, 

Does Viserys truly hold no love for him?

“Daemon…” Harriet looks at him, worried clearly expressed in her beautiful green eyes, her hands steady on his elbows.

Daemon finally stopped his hysterical chuckles, he took a deep breath and turned around to face Davos Dayne, “He's the king, he can do whatever he wants.” Daemon said, there was no hatred in his voice even the slightest bit.

Daemon decides enough it’s enough, he wouldn’t try to chase after Viserys love like a fool ever again, “I only hope he doesn’t fuck badly this time because I had no desire savings his sorry ass ever again.”

Daemon sneaked his arm around Harriet's waist and continued to walk toward their chamber, leaving Davos Dayne’s unsuccessful taunt behind.

Till the day they depart to Astapor, Daemon still cannot find the best solution to deal with Rhea Royce.

While waiting for Harriet to bid her goodbye to Vyronar’s daughters who she has been quite close to this past month, Daemon and Vyronar choose to walk in the garden, “I have received the news, Ser Dayne was not lying, your brother truly wed Alicent Hightower, very unconventional choice, I would say.” Vyronar glanced at Daemon.

“Fool.” Daemon murmured, “People should call him Viserys the Fool.”

Vyronar cleared his throat, “Well, aside from that, did you truly need to leave? I could arrange for permanent residence for you here in Qarth.”

“As much as I like to be here, My Lady wife will certainly throw a fit if we don't proceed with our tour, there are many places left that she wants to see.”

“You truly love her, aren’t you?” Vyronar chuckled.

“Is it really that obvious?” Daemon laughed.

“The Daemon Targaryen I know wouldn’t never put anyone above himself.”

Daemon rolled his eyes, Vyonar was not wrong tho, though he indeed never put anyone above himself except Viserys before.

Vyronar laughed, “Your wife is good for you, my friend, I am truly happy you finally found your happiness.”

“You make it sound like I was never happy before.”

“Oh Daemon, every time we cross paths in Essos you always look like a mess, you may pretend as if you live your life to the fullest here, drink till you pass out, gamble, whoring, brawl, but I never once seen smile in your eyes…Not until I saw you with your lady wife,”

“Now you make me sound like a sappy husband.” Daemon scowled.

Vyornar laughed again, he patted Daemon’s back, “To be able to find the one person that could fill the void inside your soul is the greatest joy in life.” He smiled at him.

Daemon returned the smile, Vyronar was right, it greatest joy indeed.

“I have sent letters to all my associates, both of you and your mighty dragon would always find a home in any city in Essos,” Vyronar informs Daemon and Harriet.

“Oh, Merlin! you really don’t have to!” Harriet was flustered.

The wealthy merchant put his hand over his heart, “Please accept it, my lady, This is nothing compared to what both of you have done for me and my daughter.”

Harriet was about to protest again but Daemon placed his hand on Harriet's shoulder and shook his head lightly.

Harriet sighs and nods,

“Thank you for your hospitality, my friend, may we see each other again in the future,” Daemon said before hugging his merchant friend.

“May we see each other again.” Vyronar returned the hug, “Take care and enjoy your venture, my friend.”

On the way to Astapor.

“Aren’t Red Waste supposed to be covered with red grass? Why Is it all black?” Harriet asked while they crossed the Red Waste on their way to Astapor.

Fuck! Should he just tell the truth?

Daemon cleared his throat, “I don’t have any idea…maybe the sign of the changing season? Like a tree in fall?” He is glad Harriet cannot see his face right now, she would tell right away if he lied.

Harriet hummed, “Maybe? the plants here are weird after all, shame there's no trace of magical properties in them.”

Daemon silently let out a sigh of relief.

“What place is Astapor?” Harriet asked next.

“Small city, we will just stay long enough to let Caraxes recuperate then we leave for Mereen.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Because you wouldn’t like it there.”

“Because of the slaves? We are going to venture around Slaver's Bay, Daemon, I know what to expect.”

“Not just any slaves, dearest, in Astapor they trained Unsullied.”

“Unsullied?”

“The Unsullied are eunuch slave soldiers, trained from a young age in Astapor to unquestioning obedience and martial prowess. Their training begins when the boys are five years old, any slave boy up to the age of five may be later selected to be made into an Unsullied, and then castrated.” Daemon explains. “To complete his training, each Unsullied is sent to Astapor's slave market, where he must purchase an infant, kill it, and compensate the child's owner before returning to the barracks; if they fail, they will be executed.”

Harriet fell silent for a moment but Daemon could taste her anger flickering in the air around them, “I agree, for the best, we shouldn’t stay for long there.” She said after some time.

Daemon pressed the kiss on top of Harriet’s head, “only for Caraxes to recuperate.” He promised.

Chapter Text

Astapor

Harriet is aware she told Daemon that she knew what to expect when they visited Slaver’s Bay but in reality, she was not. She was unprepared to see how cruel and sadistic those Masters were, and the worst of all for Harriet was to learn that those slavers dared to call themselves ‘A Good Masters’ “Good My ass!” Harriet murmured angrily in the common tongue.

She does not get over the recent incident when Daemon forbids her to give a drink to a young Unsullied who looks about to collapse due to dehydration. “He will killed immediately after you give him a drink,” Daemon warns him.

Harriet heeds Daemon's warning and helps the young Unsullied drink the water.

The ‘Good’ Master of those Unsullied saw it, he grabbed the young unsullied and slit the young unsillied’s throat like it was nothing, the image of blood and water that spilled from the boy's throat will burn in Harriet's memories forever.

After killing the young Unsullied himself, the ‘Good’ Master still dared to demand compensation by claiming that Harriet’s action forced him to kill his ‘goods’.

Avada Kedava was already on the tip of Harriet's tongue.

Yet, before Harriet could grab her wand, Daemon stepped up, apologized to the ‘Good Master’, and paid one golden dragon for his lost 'goods’.

“Harry—” Daemon warns her.

Harriet sulk.

“ Something wrong, Dragon Lord?” Ask their Astapori guide.

“My wife felt a little bit lightheaded, she wasn't used to the southern sun yet.” Daemon lied.

“Ah! Understandable, our sun here can be unforgiving for the northerners, can I bring you something?” 

“Oh no, you don’t have to, My wife and I will just return to our lodge.”

The Astapori nodded, “If you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask, Vyronar Hesten’s friend is our friend.”

“Will do, thank you for the tour,” Daemon answered and then led Harriet back to their lodge.

Their return trip required them to walk through the central market, Daemon had already offered Harriet to take a detour but again Harriet refused, she just wanted to return to their lodge as fast as possible.

Once she stepped foot on the market, she gravely regretted ever refusing Daemon’s offer.

For the first time in Harriet's life, she saw a human being sold in the open market, besides Vegetables and fruit.

Old, young, sick, healthy, elderly, infants, light-skinned, dark-skinned, they’re chained like cattle to the stall, waiting for a potential buyer.

Harriet felt her heart break that instant.

The emotional part of her wanted to purchase some slaves to free them but the Logical part of her knew it wouldn’t make any change, without someone to employ them or protect them, the freed slaves would only be recaptured by slavers and sold on this very market again.

The feeling of helplessness and desperation is truly unbearable; it almost feels like there's Dementor clung to her shoulder, toying with her worst fears but never sucking her soul to end her misery.

In the middle of her turmoil suddenly Daemon scooped her from the ground to his embrace, carrying her like a princess in a muggle fairy tale book Harriet once read in the school library.

“Put your arm around my neck and close your eyes, dearest,” Daemon told her.

Harried complied, she put her arm around his neck and then closed her eyes.

Once they arrived at their lodge Harry ducked her head in shame, “I'm sorry…” she murmured in shame.

Daemon tilted Harriet's chin, “Don’t be,”

“I almost got us in trouble! You have warned me! You warned me that I wouldn’t have the stomach for it and I heed your warning.”

“But you didn’t get us in trouble, Harry.”  Daemon smiled.

“And If I did?”

“As long as we’re together nothing can’t be solved.”

Harriet huffed a laugh before resting her forehead on Daemon’s chest, “I really hate them, how dare they call themselves a good master when there’s nothing good about them.”

Daemon patted Harriet’s back, “I don’t want to overwhelm you but, In Yunkai those masters called themself the Wise Masters, while in Mereen they called themselves the Great Master.”

“Why is it getting worse?!” Harriet groaned.

Daemon laughed, “We can always go camping outside, there's no need for us to stay in the city.”

“No, please, no camping.” Harriet immediately refused.

“Not fond of camping?”

Harriet nodded grimly.

“What happened, Dearest?”

Harriet settled herself on Daemon’s lap and began to recount her Horcrux hunt with Hermione and Ron. The sleepest night, the anxiety, the hunger, the cold, the pressure and temptation of the Horcrux, the time she almost drowned, and the mushroom, oh the mushroom.

“Now I know why you hate Mushrooms so much.” Daemon hummed.

Harriet snorted.

Daemon fell silent for a moment before embracing Harriet and tucking her head below his chin, “You have been through a lot, dearest,” he said softly.

“Honestly? I don’t think I would make it without Hermione and Ron… I would just surrender to Voldemort and let him kill me, like a coward…”

“You never a Coward, you are brave, my brave Harry,” Daemon kissed Harriet’s lightning bolt scar, “You and your friend, stood up and fought for what you believed where most people in your world were too afraid to do so, you have been brave, and I'm proud of you.”

Hearing such kind words made Tears begin to stream down Harriet's face, “I'm not brave… I'm so scared at that time, Daemon. There are countless times I almost give up.”

“But you’re not, aren't you? You keep fighting the best you can while other people dig holes and hide in there and do nothing, you’re Brave, Harriet and nothing couldn’t force me to say otherwise.”

Harriet wraps her arm around Daemon’s torso and cries on his shoulder.

Daemon stroked Harriet’s spine in constant up and down movement, he never once urged her to stop crying, he waited patiently, being there for her, listening to all her rambling.

“Break into the safest bank in the world and free a dragon?” He asked after Harriet calmed down and was no longer a sobbing mess.

“The bank gave me quite a hard time after that, you know? Paying for damage and everything else, I almost lost my vault and all my wealth in the process.” Harriet pouted.

“You don’t say?” Daemon laughed,

“I don’t have any choice Daemon,” Harriet scowls.

“You have, you can always choose to walk away and watch everything burn,” Daemon shrugs.

“You know I can’t.” Harriet huffed.

Daemon pressed a fluttering kiss over Harriet's forehead once more, “Of course I know.”

Harriet squinted her eyes at Caraxes for a moment before saying, “It’s just me or did Caraxes indeed grow bigger?”

Daemon walked toward Caraxes and inspected the saddle, when he struggled to shove his finger between the gap Daemon nodded, “Yes, he's definitely getting bigger.”

$What?$ Caraxes asked.

$You are getting fat$ Harriet snickered

$No, I am not! Rude speaker!$ Caraxes roared fiery breath at the Cave ceiling.

Harriet burst out laughing.

“What did you say to him?” Daemon asked.

“I told Caraxes he got fat, and he vehemently denied it.” She snickered.

“You're teasing him too much.” Daemon chuckled.

still giggles, Harriet swishing her wand to resize Caraxes’ saddle to make it more comfortable for the dragon, $Comfortable now?$ 

Caraxes just respond with a breathy huff that is equal to a human ‘Hmph’

“Now He's sulking!” Harriet crackles.

Daemon shook his head in amusement, he rubbed Caraxes’ snout before climbing atop the saddle.

Yunkai

“ There's no need for a tour,” Daemon told another of Vyronar Hesten’s associates who welcomed them at Yunkai.

“ Are you sure my lord? You don’t have to worry about leaving your wife behind, here at our establishments, we offer endless choices of service for everyone… Well, everyone who could afford it of course.” The Yunkish smiled slyly. 

Daemon smiled to hide his irritation, “I thank you for the generous offer but my wife and I, we… didn’t share.”

“Ah! Exclusive couple! How rare!” The Yunkish said as if he just discovered a rare species of animal in the wild.

“If that is the case, We can just arrange a viewing service. Maybe you and your lady wife are interested in learning our sixteen seats of pleasure or even learning the way of the seven sighs—” the Yunkish winked, “— to spice up your bedroom.”

The single vein on Demon’s temple popped up, he truly wanted to stab the Yunkish eye socket right there. “Thank you for offering, but my wife and I are fine.”

“Well, what can I say…I will just arrange your accommodation then. any food, or wine, you prefer, Dragon Lord?”

“Anything is… Oh, I almost forgot, do skip  dishes that are made with mushrooms, my wife is not fond of it.”

“… Young love. ” The Yunkish had the audacity to sigh, “Very well, please enjoy your stay.”

Once the door closed Daemon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled it while shaking his head, he was just inches away from grabbing and snapping the Yunkish’s neck with his bare hand.

Harriet scrunched her nose, “why do you look like a dragon who is about to spit fire?”

Daemon took a deep breath.

Harriet laughed, “What kind of service that man offered you so vehemently anyway? I only catch several words, you two talk so fast.”

“That's…” Daemon scratches his temple.

“Hmmm?”

“Well, you see…Yunkai is known for training bed slaves and the only establishment that could rival the one in Yunkai is the one in Volantis…” 

Daemon explains in circles simply avoiding giving a straight answer but Harriet quickly gets the idea because her expression turns murderous once the realization hits her, “So, you say that the Yunkish basically offered you a sex service? In front of my face? After you introduced me as your wife?!” 

Daemon lifted both his hands slightly, “Calm down, dear, it’s not just me who he offered the service…”

Harriet frowned, “what do you mean?”

“He offered for us… you know together… with the—”

Harriet's jaw dropped upon the insinuation of wild orgy and other stuff, “No! Absolutely not! No way in hell! Hard pass!”

“The offer was already declined, dearest.” Daemon chuckled.

“Merlin, have mercy! I hate Slaver’s Bay!” Harriet groaned, “This is the worst place on Planetosh!”

Daemon bent down to kiss the top of Harriet’s head, “I promise you Meereen will be slightly better, there's a lot of places we can visit, the great library, plaza purification, spice market, and the most important of all they sell slave in the specific market called slave’s exchange, it's easy to avoid that place.”

“Not seeing it doesn’t simply make it don't exist, Daemon.” Harriet scowled.

“Then, shall we just skip Meereen and go straight to Volantis?”

Harriet shook her head.

“No?”

“No.” Harriet answered, “I know you want to search for Valyrian’s ancient text at Meereen’s great library.”

“You don’t have to hold back for me, Harry.”

“I'm not holding back, I just want to do something for you, after all you did for me.”

“You have my thanks, dearest.” Daemon smiled.

Harriet let out a frustrated groan, “stop smiling like that!”

“Smiling like what?” Daemon teases her, his smile turns into a knowing smirk.

“You’re too handsome for your own good, Daemon Targaryen.” Harriet scowls, “and worst of all you are well aware of that and wield it exactly like you wield Dark Sister.”

Hearing that Daemon laughed.

Meereen.

Daemon was right, Meereen is much more bearable than Yunkai or Astapor, and the city was vast and beautiful. 

“ The pyramids are built in the colors of the noble house occupying them; The pyramid of Pahl is pink-and-white, the pyramid of Naqqan is green-and-black, and the great pyramid of Rhazdar is yellow-and-green. The pyramid of Kandaq is said to be the modest one compared to another. ” Their Meereenese guide told them.

“ It's still strange to me to see multicolored Pyramids, ” Harriet commented in broken Valyrian.

“ Oh? You also have pyramids in your homeland, my lady? ” Ask the Meereenese curiously.

“ Yes, in the land called Egypt, there are a lot of Pyramids, the biggest one is called the Pyramids of Giza, it's made out of limestone.” Harriet smiled, reminiscing about her expedition with Bill, Fleur, and Gringotts’ Curse-Breaker team inside one of the pyramids of Giza.

“Egypt? I had never heard of that place before.”

“It's on earth, a place beyond the veil.”

The Meereenese look confused but do not pursue further, just like how people treat Luna when she starts spluttering nonsense.

Harriet learns Valyrian since most Essosi use the language, she knows she can rely on a translator to spell anytime but she refuses to become lazy, the other reason is she likes how Damon looks proud when she is able to finish a sentence in Valyrian.

“ You have better pronunciation than my idiot brother who spent years learning the language, ” Daemon commented at some point.

“ I just mimicked you and other people here. ” Harriet shrugged.

“ Don’t belittle yourself, Darling .” 

Harriet was just about to disprove but their Meereenese guide said, “The dragon lord is not wrong, my lady, you’re way better than those Westerosi merchants that come to our port, they talk like babies. It irked me every time!”

“Thank you, your kind words make me more eager to learn the language.” Harriet blushed.

“Only his? What about me?” Daemon demands.

Harriet snorted at Daemon, “You have all my thanks, my prince.” She said before kissing Daemon’s cheek.

Daemon grinned.

“What a lovely couple, how long have you two been married for?”

“ almost a year,” Daemon answered.

Harriet blinked at Daemon, it had been almost a year since they left Westeros. How fast time flies!

“You’re so lucky my lady, not many lords would bother to take their lady wife on a tour like this, most of them would force their wife to produce an heir immediately.”

“I am very aware how very lucky I am,” Harriet patted Daemon's arm proudly.

The Meereenese smiled and then continued their tour. They skipped all the fighting pits and went straight to the Temple of the Graces, then the Plaza of Purification, and finally the Grand Library.

“This is where our tour ends, feel free to contact me if both of you need anything, enjoy your stay at Meereen.” Their guide bowed deeply.

“Thank you so much for your assistance,” Harriet told the Meereenese.

The man touched his forehead. “ Valar Morghulis.” 

“Valar Dohaeris,” Daemon answered.

“All men must die?” Harriet asked.

“All men must Serve.” Daemon nodded.

“What a weird customary saying.” Harriet hummed before entering the great library with Daemon.

Meereen’s Grand Library

“Coupling with a literal dragon?!” Harriet almost shrieked in horror, “Ew! How?! Ew!”

Daemon laughed.

“Don’t laugh! You know how big Caraxes’ was! There will be a tear, no! A rupture! Oh, Dear Merlin! Oh no!” Harriet gagged, “Don’t Imagine it, Harriet Potter! Think about something else!” She shuddered.

Daemon shook his head in amusement before continuing to read the ancient text, “There are several mentions of blood magic here.” He tapped the text.

“There are many types of Blood Magic, Daemon, the basic one can be used to tie two people, like wedding rituals, or adoption. The advanced one can be used to protect your home it's called Blood Ward, and the purpose is to make people who don’t share your blood unable to enter without permission, and the darkest Art of Blood magic, the one that will land you straight to jail is Necromancy, the art of reviving the dead.”

“Blood magic can do that?”

Harriet nodded, “I was blood-adopted by my Godfather, it legally makes me his heir in front of magical law. For The Necromancy, the simplest one is to reanimate the undead, it's called Inferi , a mindless decayed creature who only follows the order. The ultimate one is to completely revive the dead, but I never heard anyone ever manage to do that.”

“Interesting.” Daemon hummed.

“I think I have a book about blood magic in my trunk, I'm not sure though but Hermione tends to always overpack everything.” Harriet shrugs.

“If you ever find the book, I would like to borrow it.”

“Sure.”

Harriet leaves Daemon with his ancient text and explores the great library. Harriet wondered if the Great Library of Alexandria didn’t burn down would it be like this? 

Harriet traced her finger in a daze upon the yellowish scroll. Seeing so many books and scrolls makes her miss Hermione greatly. She would live in this place, hell, she would set up a tent in the garden and try to read as many books as she allowed.

Ron will be bored in no time and go to check the fighting pit or stuff his face at the market with exotic foods.

Neville will drown in the book about plants, 

Draco would scrunch his nose and claim that this library collection was sub-par compared to Malfoy’s library.

Ginny…George…Luna…Rolf…Hugo...Rose...Lysander…Scorpius…Teddy…Harry quietly wipes tears from her eyes.

Harriet realizes she never properly mourned what she had lost, mourned the life she cannot return to, she only hoped Kingsley honored the vow he made and kept everyone safe. 

Harriet takes her time to mourn silently between the silence of ancient books and texts she once had before returning to Daemon’s side.

“First make a cut on each other's palm…” Daemon dragged his forefinger upon Harriet's palm, 

“Joined the open wound and tied it with embroidered ribbon…” they clasped their palms together, 

“Let the blood of the joined hand flow to the goblet…Make another cut on the lips…” he ghosted his finger upon her lips,

“Chant the vow together…” Daemon looked at Harriet straight in the eye.

“drink the blood mix with ritual wine….” Daemon feeds Harriet the wine from his goblet.

“Then sealed with a kiss.” Daemon leaned to lick wine from Harriet's lips.

Harriet yelped loudly, “Daemon!”

Daemon laughed. “That's how you do a Valyrian wedding.”

Still flustered Harriet rolled her eyes, “Now I know where you got your dramatic flair,” she huffed, “so many unnecessary steps, In mine, you just have to put seven drops of your blood and your spouse's blood into a goblet with potion on it, say the enchanted words, drink the potion, and you bounded to each other till death do you apart.”

“How romantic.” Daemon drawled.

Harriet laughed. “Most pureblood marriages are transactional,” she explained.

“And for the one married for love?”

“We do a wedding vow, some with binding magic, some don’t, depending on the couple really. The vow also varies. I attend all my friend's weddings and none use the same vow.”

“And you? What did you use?”

“Me? I never married.”

Daemon's purple eyes glinted, “why?”

“Nobody wants Harriet Potter.” Harriet shrugs, “All They wanted is the Saviour of the Wizarding world, The girl who lives…twice,” she chuckles darkly, “Once they learn that I was just like any other witch, they lose their interest and leave.”

“They’re fools, don’t listen to them.”

“But I really just like any other witch. I vanquish the Dark Lord twice truly by sheer dumb luck, I rely on my friends for almost everything, and my strong point is only Defense against the Dark Arts. My healing skill is sub-par at best, I still cannot stand straight after Apparate, I ordinary, Daemon.”

Daemon cupped both Harriet’s cheeks, “How many times do I need to remind you to stop belittling yourself, dearest?”

“But—”

“Listen to me, Harry, I don’t care if there are a thousand witches like you in your world, I don't care if you failed your fortune telling and history class, I don’t care if you need your friend's help to do Arithmetic for you or sorting magical plant for you.” Daemon brushed his thumb over Harriet's cheekbones, “Because here, in my world, you are extraordinary, you are the only one, the most interesting and intelligent woman I have ever seen… no don’t try to persuade me that Hermione is way smarter than you, she is not here, only you here.”

Harriet bit her lower lips,

“You’re not Savior of the Wizarding world, you are not the girl who lives—” Daemon smirked, —twice.”

Harriet huffed a wet laugh,

Daemon gently wiped tears from the corner of Harriet’s eyes with his thumb, “You’re Harriet Potter, my Harry, my witch, my wife.”

“‘M not your wife.”

“To the whole world you are my wife,” Daemon chuckled.

“Yes, thanks to someone.” Harriet feigned an annoyance.

Chapter Text

Harriet

“Prince Daemon Targaryen?” Ask someone.

“Who is asking?” Daemon asked without leaving the text he was currently reading. 

Harriet is eyeing the slave who approached them. The man dresses modestly, has a solid muscular build, and has noble high cheekbones. He is well-kept, clean, and smells nice, yet he wears a slave choker made of leather and gold chain.

“My Master, Mazdhan zo Loraq the Magnificent summoned you and your wife to the great pyramid.” The man answered.

Daemon put down the ancient text, “ Summoned?” He asked.

“ Yes, Dragon Lord, you and your wife had been summoned by—”

“Mazdhan zo Loraq the Magnificent, king of Meereen.” Daemon rolled his eyes, “I never heed Viserys’ summon and these Slavers dared to summon me?” Daemon muttered.

Harriet squeezed Daemon’s hand when she saw two armed soldiers walking towards them.

Daemon took a deep breath, stood up, and said, “Lead the way.”

There's a beautiful open palanquin with six male slaves to carry it and two more armed soldiers waiting for them at the entrance of the Library, “We didn’t do something illegal—” Harriet gasped, “Did they know I made copies of all Valyrian books and scrolls in the library?” She whispered, her eyes glued at the soldiers.

“We didn’t do anything illegal, dearest, even if we do, the king will prepare a closed carriage with a tiny barred window, not an open palanquin, like this.”

“Who knows!”

Daemon snorted, “Let's be done with this quickly so I can return to my ancient text, there's a lot of things to read.” He offered his hand to help Harriet hop into the palanquin.

“You sure they wouldn’t know? Geminio spell is highly illegal to be used on books or any printed literature, Daemon.” Harriet whispered once they were on the road.

“There's no such law in this world, relax,” Daemon whispered back.

“We practically stole from a library!”

“We did not steal anything, dearest, we simply copied the book,”

“We return the copy and keep the original!”

Daemon chuckled, “Don’t blow our cover off.” 

Harriet groaned.

“ Dragon Lord! There you are! I wonder when you will finally grace me with your presence. ” Mazdhan zo Loraq exclaimed.

“ Your Highness, ” Daemon bowed slightly. I never meant to disrespect you; I simply don’t want to disturb your busy schedule.”

“Nonsense! I will always have time for you, Dragon Lord, so tell me, did you like my city?”

“My wife and I enjoy it greatly, your Highness, Meereen is truly a place of wonder, especially your library.”

“Ah, No wonder you need almost ten days before presenting yourself.”

“Well, Your Highness, like I said earlier, I never meant to disrespect you. I'm here in my capacity as myself, not an emissary for my brother, that is why I see no reason to bother your busy schedule, your highness.”

Harriet silently watches the tension between Daemon and the King, the two wagging perfectly curated words like a sword, which tense Harriet like no other.

“ You may come as yourself and claim you have come without any political agenda. However, you, my dear Dragon Lord, brought a Dragon into my territory, an Adult dragon who is known for its ferocity. As a fellow Royals surely you understand my need to be aware of your intentions.”

“I assure you, Your Highness, My wife and I bear no ill intent, we are here only to celebrate our nuptials,”

“I truly want to believe you, Dragon Lord, however reflecting on the fate of the Old Empire of Ghis and Westeros… sure you can’t blame me for being a little cautious, aren’t you?”

Daemon nodded, “Your worry is justified, your highness, however, I think you missed one important point.”

“And what is that?”

“What comes to the Old Empire of Ghis and Westeros is ‘Dragons’ and ‘Armies’, Not a newlywed couple and a dragon,” Daemon smiles curtly.

The corner of Loraq’s eye twitched, his mask finally cracked, and his impatience showed, “Did you take me for a fool?! Did you think I was not informed about what happened in YiTi? And about how you, your witch wife, and your dragon eradicate Khal Daro and his khalasar?”

Harriet instinctively reaches for her wand in her right pocket and portkey in her left pocket, ensuring everything is ready and preparing for the worst. 

Daemon grabs Harriet's elbow to stop her. “Whatever you heard from YiTi is a false accusation. Your Highness, I assure you, my wife and I had no partake in Prince Jar Yi's rebellion; we already left the city long before the God-Emperor was slain.” Daemon may look aloof and nonchalant, but Harriet knows he is alerted and ready to fight if something terrible happened to them, “For Khal Daro, It's all pure self-defense; the Dothraki kidnapped daughter of my dearest friend Vyornar Hesten, Grain King of Qarth, we already offered peace, but he refused and chose violence instead.”

Loraq narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Daemon, but he clearly still did not trust them, even the slightest.

Unable to persuade Mazdhan zo Loraq that the two of them didn’t bear any ill intent toward Meereen and his reign, Daemon took drastic measures by suggesting the King choose one of his trusted men to be their warden and two of his royal guards as a sentry during the duration of their stay.

Harriet tried to protest, but Daemon whispered that either this or thrown into the dungeon, he was certain that Loraq wouldn’t let them leave the great pyramid in peace.

Mazdhan zo Loraq's expression shifted. He no longer liked someone who had had year-long constipation. The king of Meereen contemplated the suggestion momentarily before nodding, “…That will do, Mase!” The king snapped his finger, and the slave who had previously summoned them at the library appeared. 

“My king.” The man bowed deeply.

“Mase, brother, you will watch Dragon Lord and his wife and report everything to me till the day they depart from my city,”

A king called a slave his brother? Weird, Harriet thinks.

The slave Mase put his hand on top of his heart, “as you wish, my king.” He bowed.

“One more thing, Dragon Lord.” Loraq stopped Daemon from his track, “I don’t wish to see your dragon anywhere near my city wall.”

“Of course, your highness.” Daemon bowed slightly.

Harriet stared at Mase; the slave had been sitting in the same position for hours since they settled at the library.

He did not move, talk, drink, or eat, and Harriet was sure he also did not blink.

“Well, this is awkward.” Harriet sighed.

“Better than being thrown into a dungeon.” Daemon reminded her. His nose is still buried deep in Valyria’s ancient text.

Harriet tried to get a reaction by putting a glass of water and some delicious-looking shiny candied fruit on the table beside the man, “ You can’t keep watching us if you faint from hunger. ” Harriet said softly, 

Yet, the man is still unmoved, with no thanks, no single nod, just stare. 

“Your eyes don't feel dry at all? You haven’t blinked for nearly half an hour, you know.” Harriet tried again.

Masking his laugh, Daemon said in Valyrian, “ Darling, stop bothering the man, let him do his job. ”

“He makes me uncomfortable!” Harriet whines.

“My poor dearest.” Daemon chuckled. “Come here and read this book to expand your vocabulary.” He put a book down and patted its cover gently.

“You think Mase once was Unsullied? I never saw someone who could hold still in the same position for hours except the Unsullied.” Harriet asked after flipping two pages of the book she was currently reading.

Daemon glances at Mose's pants, “Judging from the bulge inside his pants, I'm certain He’s not.”

“He's too well groomed and well fed to be a slave, he also speaks perfect High Valyrian, he wears high-quality leather and gold chains as a choker, oh! And did you remember Mazdhan zo Loraq called him brother? Don’t you think it's weird?”

Daemon put his book down, “It is not strange for a master to take good care of his favorite slave, dearest, and we are not here to play detective, we are here to read books, remember?”

Harriet pout.

“Patience, darling I almost finished compiling all the material I needed.”

True to his words, by the end of the week, Daemon managed to compile all the materials to create a book of the complete history of Valyria before doom.

“Now we only need to hire the Meereenese commissioned writer that Vyronar introduced to us, to compile everything into a book,” Daemon said proudly.

Harriet looked at the stack of books and scrolls and went pale. Hermione had told her how muggles copied their books in the medieval era when they learned about the Geminio spell. She estimated that with all the materials Daemon had, it would take years to rewrite everything!

They can’t stay that long!

Harriet could not stand to be a prisoner any longer! She wanted her freedom back!

“Can’t it wait till we return to Westeros?” Harriet asked.

“Only a handful of men beside me that could read Old Valyrian text in Westeros, Harry, and the people who are capable of reading the text and doing manuscript-writing are the Rats of Citadel,” Daemon scowled in disgust, “Honestly, I'd rather burn all this book and scroll rather than entrusted these valuable materials to them.”

“I understand you didn’t trust the Maesters but I truly can’t bear another week under Mase’s watchful stare, I'm just inches away from transfiguring him into a frog!”

“Oh, Harry.” Daemon laughed, 

“Please, Daemon?” Harriet almost begs on her knees. She truly cannot stand Mase and his cold stare anymore. " Are you sure there’s no other way? Can we hire commissioned writers from other free cities?”

“...We may find someone in Volantis…”

“Why do you sound unsure?”

“As I said, reading old text alone is tricky, and finding someone who could do the reading and manuscript-writing is even harder, if we hired two people and either one quit we are doomed.”

“You should do it yourself then! Complete History of Valyria before Doom by Daemon Targaryen”

“You can’t be serious.” Daemon pinched Harriet’s cheek. “Manuscript writing is a laborious process, dearest, that’s why we commissioned a person to do it.”

“Trust me I know how, Hermione told me how the muggles copied their book before printing machines were invented.”

“Then you should be aware why I am not suitable for the job, I had no patience nor dedication for it.”

Harriet pouted in defeat.

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, dearest, but you said it yourself that there's no spell to help you make an essay out of the book, everything needs to be done manually, right?” Daemon rubs his thumb over the back of Harriet’s hand.

“Yeah, I'm so bad at writing essays, not only was my handwriting chicken scratch at best, but my professor also complained about my almost art-like ink splotches.” Harry chuckled.

Daemon also chuckled, “With all things magic can do, I still wonder why no one bothered to invent a spell to make quill able to write on its own.” He mused.

Quill that could write on its own! 

Harriet pulls her hand from Daemon’s grasp, only to smack her forehead.

How could she forget!?

“Harry?”

Harriet ignored Daemon and went to rummage her bag. 

“I found it!” She cried out in relief when she found the things she was looking for, 

“What is this?” Daemon inspected the box, which had a fountain pen inside it.

“The enhanced version of Self-Writing Quill! Twins’ Shop best-selling item! I present to you The Self-Writing Fountain Pen!” Harriet presented the pen to Daemon, “This one is a special edition, George makes this unbreakable and never runs out of ink!”

“Seems everyone is well aware of your clumsy nature, hmm?” 

Harry sticks her tongue out, 

Since the pen requires no specific magic spell to be used, Harriet easily links the fountain pen to Daemon’s voice and teaches him how to use it,

“Say something.”

“Say what?” Daemon asked, and the quill stood up and wrote the exact words on the parchment, even the punctuation mark.

Daemon gasped loudly, “By God, Harry!  This—”

“Ingenious! I know! The first version, Self-Writing Quill, was Twins’ best-seller item for years before George came up with the fountain pen version.”

“This twin is the one who runs a joke shop in the alley, right? Ronald’s older brothers?”

Harriet gasped, “You remember!”

“Of course I remember every single thing you said to me, I even remember that you Funded this Weasley’s joke shop with Tournament prize money that you won in your fourth year in Hogwarts.” Daemon chuckled.

Harriet felt her heart skip beating again! Godric’s heart! Daemon truly remembers everything she said, even the silliest of her silly rambling, and it made her heart unbearably full; she felt loved like never before!

Harriet scrunched her nose at Daemon before kissing his cheek. “Off to work now, Daemon, the faster you finish the more unlikely Mase ends up as a Frog.”

Daemon chuckled, “As your command, my darling.” He returned the kiss and then started working on his book.

Harriet listened attentively as Daemon enunciated the Valyrian words clearly and melodiously, almost like singing a beautiful song rather than creating a book.

Is there anything that this man couldn’t do?

Well, the man claims he can’t cook, but not because he genuinely can’t; he never bothered to try in the first place. Who knows, he may also be good at it.

Harriet folded her arm on the table and rested her head there. She stares at Daemon’s handsome face and sighs; why, of all people, must she fall in love with a married man? 

She exhaled deeply.

Yes, Harriet cannot deny anymore that she had fallen for the handsome, charming, witty, jack-of-all-trade dragon prince.

Caraxes can’t know about this!! That dragon wouldn’t let Harriet live this down and hold it over Harriet’s head every time they talked!

Harriet shuddered; Caraxes definitely can’t know about her little infatuation!

She is well aware that Daemon had no love for his wife, nor did he ever touch or share a bed with her, and Harriet believed him. She also knew that for years, Daemon had kept pushing his brother to annul his marriage, but the king of Westeros, for some reason, never agreed to do it.

Does Viserys think that Daemon will relent in the end?

How come Viserys, who claimed to love Daemon dearly, knew nothing about Daemon? Did he even look like someone who will yield and surrender to pressure?

Viserys Targaryen is a fool, no doubt about it.

Harriet sighed. Should she just take the matter with her own hand? Should she get rid of the woman herself to finally make Daemon hers?

It only needed one simple spell; the muggles wouldn’t suspect anything since the killing curse left no mark; it would just look like the woman had heart failure and died.

Harriet fell silent for a moment before laughing silently. She can’t believe she is just thinking about killing an innocent woman to take her husband for herself. 

What kind of savior is she?

Harriet leaned her forehead onto the table, hid her face in the crook of her arm, and chuckled softly.

Godric’s heart since when she became so bloody heartless?!

Harriet knew she should be ashamed, but truthfully, she was not. The Second World War and years of travel across the globe had changed her drastically. She no longer sees everything in black and white or thinks the greater good is not always good. 

She learns that the world has no absolute goodness or evil; everything is equal, even magic. Dark Magic could save people's lives just as Light Magic could kill people. It's not the tool; the wielder's intention will differentiate between good and evil.

Harriet turned her head, and her gaze met Daemon’s; he smiled sweetly at her.

Harriet sighs; she is sure sooner or later, she will end up killing for him.

Daemon

Daemon just finished writing the third chapter of his book when Harriet returned from her daily little charity at the plaza of Purification. “How much bread did you hand out today?” Daemon asked with a coy smile.

Lately, Harriet has found a new way to kill time while Daemon works on his book. She would buy two or three baskets of bread and then give them away to slaves' children who were too young to work near the slum area.

If she were just an ordinary lady, Daemon would forbid her from doing so, but since she knows how to defend herself and brings two sentries with her, Daemon just lets Harriet do whatever she wants.

Happy wife, happy life.

“Three baskets full.” Harriet glanced at Mase, who sat not far away from the window, before walking to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and kissing him sweetly.

“Something happened?” He whispered.

Harriet nodded.

Daemon asked Mase, “Shall we call it for the day, Mase? I want to spend the evening with my lady wife.” He asked.

Mase stood up and bowed to Daemon and Harriet before leaving the room.

Harriet waits until Mase’s footsteps are no longer heard; Daemon asks again, “What happened, Harry?”

“I think something is going to happen tonight, Daemon.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The slave’s children, the ones I give bread to, they keep telling me to stay away from the city before the sun goes down.”

Daemon frowned, “They may just try to pull your leg, darling, you know how children are.”

“Trust me I know how children love to play pranks on adults, Teddy and Huggo never missed a chance to pull a prank on me, however, those slave’s children seem serious about it, Daemon.”

Daemon looked out the window; the sun had already begun to set on the horizon. Daemon decided to leave the city for a night to be safe if something indeed happened that night.

They leave the city under a disillusionment spell. Their journey to Caraxes’ secret lair on the hill overlooking the city was smooth and without any disruption.

Daemon watches Harriet and Caraxes hiss at each other; like every time, the hiss quickly turns into Harriet's fit of laughter and puff of angry smoke from Caraxes.

Daemon huffed a laugh and went to rub Caraxes's snout to soothe his poor blood wyrm. “Must you keep antagonizing him?” Daemon chuckled.

Harriet placed her hand upon her chest and gasped, " How could you accuse me of doing something so evil?”

“I may not understand serpent tongue.” Daemon flicked Harriet’s nose gently, “But I didn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes, dearest.”

Harriet scrunched her nose at Daemon.

Daemon pulled the woman into a hug and kissed her cheek.

He heard Caraxes hiss something; Harriet rolled her eyes before angrily hissing back.

“What did he say?”

Soft blush colored Harriet's cheek, “…Nothing…” She lied so bashfully.

“Nothing?” Daemon raised his eyebrow,

Caraxes hissed again, “Oh shut up you!” Harriet glared at the Dragon; her face and ear were utterly red now,

Yet before Daemon managed to pursue further, loud explosions were heard; Daemon and Harriet quickly exited the cave, and even Caraxes stretched his neck to take a look.

Daemon's eyes widened as he saw fire engulf almost the whole city’s central pier. The fire was so big and spread so fast to the surrounding area.

“Dear Merlin! Our lodge!” Harriet pointed to the west part of the dock, which was already burning brightly. We will burn with it if we choose not to leave!” Harriet exclaimed.

Daemon clenched his fist. Is this set up to harm them?

The two of them watch silently as the soldiers and slaves pour out from all the pyramids, most likely to put out the fire.

Yet, instead of starting to put down the fire, the slaves began to attack the unsuspecting soldiers; they stole those soldiers’ weapons and then threw the disarmed soldiers into the roaring fire. 

“Godric’s Heart!” Harriet gasped in horror.

“Slave rebellion.” Daemon spat.

The armed Slaves quickly regrouped and made their way back to each pyramid they came from, unbothered by the fire that grew bigger behind them and slowly spread wider each second.

“The children knew.” Harriet squeezes Daemon's hand. “That's why they warn us to stay away from the city!”

“Yes, seems your little charity has saved us from doom, dearest,” Daemon admitted.

Daemon warned Harriet not to raise her hope because even if the slave managed to overthrow the Masters, their reign would be short-lived since they were not equipped to defend the city when the Good Masters and Wise Master began to attack the city to maintain the order in Slaver’s bay.

As always, Harriet and her bleeding heart refused to hear reason, so she demanded him and the Caraxes to assist her to help the Slaves.

Daemon took a deep breath. “You realize that we need to conquer the whole of Slaver’s Bay if we truly want to help the slaves, right?”

Harriet nodded. “We could do that!”

Daemon took a deep breath, “my love, please listen to me first.” He almost begged.

Harriet frowned at him.

“We couldn’t just conquer the entire Slaver’s Bay and let the Slave fend for themselves afterward, we need to rule, protect, and teach the slaves to be self-sufficient.”

Harriet's frown deepened.

Daemon sighs, what a gullible darling he had, “Dearest, slaves were only taught to follow order, they need someone to order them around, and they are not equipped with specific talents like farming, fishing, mining, or smithing.”

Daemon saw Harriet’s resolve begin to crack, “Not only will it take years to teach those slaves, you are aware of what will follow when you try to abolish slavery, don’t you?”

Harriet's lips turn into thin lines.

“Not only is it impossible to make the whole Essos agree to abolishing Slavery completely, but those free cities will consider us as a threat and start wagging war on us, have you prepared for that?”

Harriet’s lips began to tremble.

“Even If we survive everything, the war, the constant assassination attempt, and somehow manage to make the slaves sustained on their own, what will happen to the people when we die? Without magic and Dragon will they survive?”

Frustration tears began to well in Harriet’s emerald eyes.

Daemon pulled Harriet into his embrace, “I know you hate being helpless, but we cannot help everyone, my love.” He kissed her temple, “Even Aegon the conqueror himself prepared for years before he started his campaign on Westeros,” he began to pat her back,

Daemon felt his shoulder begin to feel damp.

“…I just want to help.” Harriet began to sob.

“I know my love, I know…”

They were in the middle of preparing to leave Mereen when the City started bustling again. A wave of soldiers began pouring from each of the pyramids, slowly gaining city control back from the slaves.

“Why those slaves carrying a log with them? Are they going to rebuild the dock right away?” Harriet asked.

Daemon glanced at the burnt dock. They needed to clear it first before rebuilding it, and if not for rebuilding, there was only one explanation…Cold dread rushed over Daemon’s veins. “Hurry up, Harry. We’re leaving.”

“Huh?”

“Now!”

Unfortunately, they’re not quick enough. The sound of wood being hammered down begins to echo through the city, followed by a pained scream.

Daemon tried to distract Harriet by dragging her back to the cave, but the woman managed to slip away from his grasp.

“Harriet…” Daemon softly called her as she silently watched the Slave’s crucifixion happen on the burnt part of the city.

Daemon watches Harriet’s bright emerald eyes slowly turn into Dark ruby.

“Harry, My love, you need to calm down…”

Harriet shook her head, then vanished with a loud crack. Seconds later, loud explosions were heard from the top of the Great Pyramid, and the giant Harpy statue on top of the pyramid began to topple and then collapse forward.

“Fuck!” Daemon cursed loudly as he watched the giant golden statue slide down from the top of the great pyramid, bringing destruction in its wake.

Then another explosion was heard. Part of the green-black pyramid of Naqqan exploded. The blast made the tip of the pyramid fly and crash into the side of the Pyramid of Phal, causing the pink and white pyramid quite significant damage.

Daemon held his breath as he watched the chaos and destruction Harriet made by herself. 

“Seven Hell…” he breathed out.

Caraxes nudged his snout on Daemon’s back as if he urged Daemon to stop Harriet.

“We can’t do anything, Caraxes, we could only wait.”

Caraxes laid his head beside Daemon,

Daemon runs his hand on Caraxes' scale. Meereen is already half burned, and Harriet's magic has ruined the other half. 

Daemon felt Caraxe's golden eyes eyeing him. He sighs, “We will expose ourselves if we fly to the city. Those Greedy slaves' masters would know exactly where to demand compensation for the damage Harriet created. Also, it's not like Harriet will listen to me; she is still blinded in rage,” he says, hoping the great wyrm can understand him, at least the main point.

Caraxes puffed a smoke,

Daemon let out a sigh of relief when he heard a crack of thunder near him. Harriet had returned to him. She looked defeated, her face covered by soot and ashes, her hair dishevelled, tears and exhaustion marring her beautiful face, and her eyes dim but no longer red like rubies.

She looks at him, guilt and shame flashing over her beautiful eyes.

Daemon sighed, “Come here, my love.” Daemon said as he opened his arm.

Fat tears dropped from Harriet's eyes; she ran and crashed onto him, hugged him tightly, and began to cry her heart out; her wailing was a heartbreaking one.

Daemon holds her firmly in his embrace. “I'm here, love. I'm here,” he whispers before kissing Harriet’s head.

Chapter Text

Daemon.

“I’m fine, Daemon.” Every time Daemon checked on Harriet, she uttered these words, yet she remained guilt-stricken and flinched frequently at the mention of Meereen or Slaver's Bay.

“Is it true that God finally punished Meereen for their sins?” Ask someone at the tavern.

Harriet flinched; Daemon reached for her hand, squeezed it softly, then ran his thumb over her back.

“That’s not God's work! I saw the city firsthand! It's the devil’s doing! The city is practically destroyed!”

Harriet ducks her head in shame.

Daemon glared at the man. Did he want to die? How dare that lowlife call his wife a devil?

"There's no work for god or devil!" The truth is, a star is falling from the sky onto the heart of Meereen!”

Daemon rolled his eyes. From that point onward, the made-up rumors escalated even more bizarrely.

The entire time, Harriet looked both guilty and ashamed. She confessed to him that she had never snapped like that before and didn’t know what possessed her that day.

Slaver's Bay truly takes a massive toll upon Harriet, and Daemon regrets that he didn’t insist on skipping that wretched part of Essos. Daemon brought Hariet’s hand to his lips; the woman smiled weakly at him.

When the person they were waiting for finally appeared, Daemon quickly stood up. “Auntie.” He greeted Saera Targaryen with an open arm.

The petite Targaryen woman smacks his hand with her fan; Daemon almost yelps when the huge jewel attached to the fan collides with his knuckles; damn, it hurts! “I told you to call me by my name, you insolent brat!”

Daemon snorted. “Calling you by your name won’t make you any younger, Saera. You already have dozens of grandbabies, remember?”

Saera smacked Daemon again with her fan before turning to Harriet and smiling sweetly, “You must be the poor soul who this rascal tricked into marriage.”

“Oy!!” Daemon protested.

Harriet chuckled, “Greetings, Princess Saera.”

Saera waved her hand. "Cut that courtesy; I'm no longer a princess nor a lady; you can call me Aunt Saera. We're practically family through that brat.” With her fan, she pointed to Daemon.

“How could Harry be allowed to call you aunt, but I can't?”

“Whine all you want, Daemon.” She smirked at him.

Harriet bit her lips to stop herself from laughing at Daemon.

Saera wrapped her arm around Harriet and walked her out of the tavern. “Tell me about you, my dear. Did my rascal nephew treat you all right?”

“What kind of question is that?!”

"Your treatment of your first wife is well known, even here in Volantis; you piece of shit!"

“I would never dishonor my Harriet!” Daemon snarls back at his aunt, "You shouldn't judge me because you knew it was your mother who sold me to that Bronze Bitch for her golds!"

Saera sneers at Daemon, “Ignore that whiny wee lad; tell me truthfully, are you happy, dear?”

Harriet nodded. “I am happy, Aunt Saera; Daemon is true to his words, and he—” Harriet glanced at Daemon and blushed prettily, “—the best thing that has happened to me.”

Hearing that, Daemon proudly puffed his chest like a peacock, which Saera quickly smacked.

The sudden impact drove Daemon to cough hard. “Why do you keep hitting me?!” He asks between coughs.

“Because I can,” Saera smirked.

Daemon groaned.

Once they arrived at Saera’s extravagant mansion, Saera ordered her servants to serve and pamper Harriet like a princess while she caught up with Daemon.

“What happened to her? Why is she flinching when mentioning Meereen or Slaver’s Bay?” Saera asked.

Daemon sighed, and even Saera noticed that something had happened with Harriet: “The slaver’s bay took a huge toll on her; there's no slavery where she came from.”

“Then you should know better than to bring that sweet girl there!”

“I shouldn’t, but she insisted.” Daemon sighs.

Saera scoffed, “Since when has Daemon Targaryen ever listened to anyone?”

“Harriet, not just anyone.”

Saera laughed, “I never thought the day would come when I witnessed a woman manage to wrap Daemon Targaryen, the almighty Rogue Prince, tightly around her finger.”

“Trust me, I was surprised too.”

“Do her right; don’t repeat your grandfather's mistake.” Saera sipped her wine. “Never forget how his sense of duty drove my mother to her grave.”

“Fuck duty.” Daemon scoffs.

Saera snorted.

“How are Viserys and Rhaenys?”

“They’re… fine.” Daemon honestly didn’t know what to say about those two.

"Do you mean that Viserys remains a court fool and Rhaenys remains a pretentious brat?"

Daemon barks a laugh; Saera always had an amusing way of nicknaming people.

Saera poured Daemon another goblet of wine. “Anyway, have you heard about your beloved brother's recent blunder?”

Daemon exhales deeply, “I have.” He sipped his wine.

“Daughter of the second son who owns nothing and a tower on top of that?” Saera scoffed, “Did you forget to teach your brother that he is not obligated to marry a whore after using her service?”

Daemon burst into laughter again. "You said it yourself: he's a court fool."

“Yes—yes—the same fool who experienced the joy of a second marriage yet let his brother rot in his miserable first marriage.” She smirks at him.

Daemon's laughter and mirth instantly subsided.

Saera sighs, "I had warned you, Daemon, that when the cursed crown lands on your brother's head, he will no longer be your sweet brother; he won't keep any of his promises; he will flatly lie to your face and claim it was for the betterment of the crown."

Daemon clenched his jaw. He never liked it when someone talked badly about his brother. No matter how foolish Viserys is, he is still his only brother.

Saera seemed to get the hint of Daemon's anger and waved her hand. “Well, you could always hire an assassin to get rid of your first wife,” she eyed Daemon from the rim of her goblet. “I knew people, even the faceless men.” 

“Can’t. It will only upset Harriet,” Daemon scowled.

Saera narrowed his gaze at Daemon. “Who are you? Where do you hide my nephew?”

Daemon rolled his eyes at Saera.

Saera laughed, “So what are you going to do? Pray to the Fourteen Flame and hope your wife somehow falls and breaks her neck.”

Daemon glared at Saera.

Saera glared back, “You cannot return to Westeros while your first wife is still alive, Daemon; those court hyenas will start yapping and feasting upon our precious girl.”

Did she assume he wasn't aware of it?

Daemon closed his eyes; he could not hire an assassin to kill his Bronze Bitch, nor could he fly to Vale and kill her himself. Cursing at Saera wouldn’t bring anything either. Daemon let out an exhaustive breath, “I will send another petition to Viserys.”

“Good luck with that,” Saera said, raising his goblet. “I doubt something that has been going for almost two decades would ever change.”

“Must you always rile me up?” Daemon gives Saera a droll look.

Saera chuckled, “Tell the servant to fetch you Balerion for sending your letter; that bird likes to bite people's fingers off.” She winked.

Daemon blinks several times before snorting loudly, “I will.”

Saera hummed.

Saera took off her emerald necklace and draped it on Harriet’s neck. “Everyone who sees this would know that you’re someone not to mess with.”

“Thank you, Aunt Saera,” Harriet said in awe.

Saera grinned as she pinched Harriet's cheek lovingly.

“What about me?” Daemon asked.

“Did you forget your own face? Do I need to call servants to bring a big mirror for you?” Saera rolled her eyes. "No one will ever mistake you for a page boy with that ridiculous Targaryen look and the Dark Sister on your hip."

Daemon clicked his tongue in displeasure.

Harriet started giggling. 

“What did you really see from this big baby, my dear?” Saera asked, “If only for his face, I knew many other handsome men I could introduce you to.”

The question only drove Harriet to burst out laughing.

“Stop trying to sabotage our relationships!” Daemon spat as he pulled Harriet away from Saera.

Still giggling, Harriet cupped Daemon's cheek and kissed the corner of his lips, saying, "Aunt is just playing with you, Daemon." She patted him softly on the chest.

Daemon scowls, pretending his heart did not flutter under her delicate hand.

“You blush shown, Daemon.” Saera sneers at him,

Daemon glared at his aunt.

She shooed them, "Off you go now, children; enjoy the city."

“We’re off, Aunt Saera,” Harriet chirped.

Saera leaned against the door frame and waved at them.

Daemon led them to cross the famous bridge that connected the old town and the new one, telling her briefly what place they would visit today.

“You appear to be familiar with Volantis. Have you been here before?” As they crossed the bridge, Harriet inquired.

“Every time Viserys banished me from his court, I would fly here or to Pentos.”

“Oh? Do you have another relative in Pentos?”

“Nah, just my long-time friend Prince Reggio. The other relatives besides Viserys, Rhaenys, Saera, and their children are my uncle Vaegon; he's an archmaester in the Citadel.”

Harriet's eyebrows shoot up. “You said you don’t have people to trust in Old Town.”

“Because I don’t trust Vaegon,”

“Why? He's your family.”

“First, he hates my mother. And second, he's no dragon; he's a rat, just like every other Maester.”

“Your family drama is worse than the Black.” Harriet chuckled.

“The Black? Your Godfather's family?”

Harriet nodded, “Years of inbreeding and shallow gene pool have driven them insane, especially my Godfather Cousin...Bellatrix Lestrange.” Harriet spells out the name with pure hatred. "People even come up with a name for it: Black Madness.” She scoffed.

"You think it's due to inbreeding?" Daemon asked carefully.

“It is scientifically proven in my world, Daemon.”

“Here?”

"I can't tell; there are so many things different here than mine, but you came out great, didn't you?" Did you have any family members with malformations such as extra limbs?

Daemon shakes his head. “None that I know of.”

“Well, according to the material of your book, the Valyrians have often married brother to sister since its founding day. If it's like how things run in my world, I guarantee you, you wouldn't be born healthy with a sound mind.”

“Truly?”

Harriet nodded. "There's a magical family in my world that practices inbreeding, not directly brother and sister, like the Valyrians." To preserve their rare family magic, they only accept someone close to them. Harriet looked uncomfortable for some reason when she mentioned the 'rare family magic.' "The last 'pure' generation of those families ends up almost squibby, deformed, mentally deranged, violent, and quite mad."

“Maegor…”

“I had read the master’s notes about him, and I think his madness comes from grief and the head injury he suffered.”

“Grief?”

“He can’t have an heir, Daemon. For a man like Maegor, son of the conqueror and warrior queen, a prince, a renowned knight, and on top of that very healthy, to face the fact that he is unable to have an heir is rather...humiliating I would say.” Harriet grimaces, "especially when his weak and sickly brother manages so easily to get son after son."

Daemon contemplates Harriet’s words. She does have a point. If Daemon were in Maegor's shoes, he is sure he would also lose his mind and take drastic measures.

Harriet entwined their fingers together. “There's a king in my world, a warrior king, from six wives and many affair partners. He only got two daughters and one son—”

“Six wives?!”

“It is not like Maegor and his black bride,” Harriet laughed. “The said king legally The king was legally married six times in total: he divorced the first, he beheaded the second, the third died in childbirth, he annulled the fourth, he also beheaded the fifth, and finally, the king passed away before he could marry the seventh."

“Bloody hell!”

“Bloody indeed.” Harriet chuckled, "Anyway, back to the topic, the constant push for having an heir to the throne, the insecurity and feeling emasculated was claimed to be the reason the king was slowly losing his mind."

Daemon starts thinking about visions. At first, Visery's decision to cut Aemma open makes no sense to him, but now, after hearing about Harriet’s warrior king, he is unsure. Maybe that incident was Visery's breaking point? It's not justifying anything and still a murder, however...

Daemon stares at Volantis’ blue sky.

“Anyway!” Harriet's voice brings him back to reality: “You need to be more kind to Maegor; despite everything he has done, he saved your family! Not once but twice! Without him stepping up, I’m certain that the Faith militants will definitely wipe your family from history.”

What Harriet said is true. Everyone knows the faith militants were too powerful at the time. Even Queen Visenya demanded several times that Aenys rain fire upon the Sept to keep those faith militants in line. Without Maegor, there would be no Targaryen today.

“He only claimed to be king after Aenys died, right? If he truly lusts for the throne, he will rebel and claim the throne for himself right after Aegon; the conqueror turns into ashes because only a suicidal fool would try to stop Maegor and Queen Visenya from taking the Iron Throne.”

Daemon stared at Harriet in awe; what a revelation he had just had! “I wonder why no one ever thought about it before.”

“Because most people only see something from a black-and-white perspective, there's no such thing as that; the world is too colorful to be divided into only two categories.”

“You talk like an old crone, darling.” Daemon chuckled.

Harriet sticks out her tongue.

Daemon kissed her temple and continued their walk toward the famous maze.

“Please!” Harriet pleaded, 

“No.” Daemon refused.

“Just one bite.” Harriet waves water spider meat to his face. “one small bite.”

Daemon grimaces and shakes his head, “No, thank you, dearest.” 

“One tiny bite—” Harriet looked at him with her puppy eyes, “Pleaseee~”

Daemon sighed in defeat, wondering how, in the name of God, he could refuse this lovely woman and her big emerald eyes. “Fine…”

Before offering it to Daemon, Harriet beamed; she dipped the white rubbery meat into melted herb butter.

With or without its shell, it looks hideous.

“The things I do for love,” Daemon murmured before reluctantly opening his mouth and taking a small bite. Daemon braced himself for the nausea to hit him hard.

But the nausea never comes. He closes his eyes and chews, and the firm texture of the meat is surprisingly nice. He chews again and tastes a hint of sweetness and freshness from the ocean. The more he chews, the more the flavor bursts into his mouth.

Daemon opened his eyes and found Harriet grinning at her, “Good, right?! Now try this!” She offered sea-roach meat to him.

Daemon didn’t resist this time. He simply opened his mouth and let Harriet feed him.

The texture of the sea roach was not as firm as that of the sea spider; it's on the crisp side, easy to chew, and has more of a hint of the ocean's sweetness.

“Do you like it? Want another?” She asked.

While chewing, Daemon nodded.

Harriet beamed, “This—” she pointed at Sea-spider, “—called Lobster, and this—” she pointed at the Sea-roach, “—called Shrimp.”

“Is it popular in your world?”

“Not only is it popular, but it's also ridiculously expensive! I was so shocked it was so cheap here.” 

“The poor eat the roach whole; people don’t know how to properly eat it.”

Harriet hummed while feeding Daemon more shrimp that she had peeled from its shell. Once Harriet's finger was close enough to his mouth, Daemon playfully nipped and licked the tip of her finger to make the woman yell and blush scarlet. “Daemon!” She glared at him.

“What?” He smirks.

Harriet's eyes may have glared at him, yet her lips indicated otherwise by curving into a shy smile.

At one point, they heard some people at the tavern debating about the shipwreck that was discovered near the Freehold open sea. Some individuals asserted that the ship belonged to Tommen II, while others refuted this claim, citing the absence of the Brightroar from the shipwreck.

Harriet asked who Tommen II was, and Daemon told her story about Tommen II, the Lannister lion king who sailed with his massive fleet to Valyria after the Doom to plunder the wealth and sorcery he was sure still remained. It was a quest from which he never returned. He lost the Valyrian steel greatsword Brightroar with him.

He also told her that the Lannisters were still grieving the lost ancestral sword; they had tried several times to buy other houses' Valyrian swords with their gold, but no one was willing to accept their offer.

After hearing the story, Harriet’s big emerald eyes shone, giving Daemon bad feelings. “No!”

Harriet's begun to grin.

“Harry, darling, Don’t you even think about it?” He warned her.

Harriet grinned while slowly pulling her wand from her dress's sleeves.

“Harriet sheathed your wand!”

Her bright emerald eyes twinkle mischievously as Harriet grins from ear to ear.

“Harriet Lily Potter!”

She swished her wand, “Point me, Brightroar.” A wisp of blue flame immediately shoots from the tip of her wand toward the direction of the open sea.

“Fuck me!” Daemon groaned. 

Harriet laughed.

“No! We are not going! Freehold open water is too dangerous! The fog! The stone men! Have you forgotten what happened to Asia?!”

“It's the Brightroar Daemon.” Harriet pout.

“Not worth the risk.” Daemon refused vehemently.

“I can summon it with Accio.” Harriet tried.

“That damned sword is not worth your safety, dearest.”

“Not even worth seeing the Lannister twin’s devastated face when you dangle the sword in front of their face?”

Daemon clamped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes at Harriet. The sly woman smiled triumphantly, knowing Daemon had bitten her bait.

She pursed her lips. “We won’t be anywhere near the ground; I can summon the sword from the sky.”

When Daemon didn’t respond, Harriet once again used her last resort, the blasted ‘puppy eyes.’ “Pleaseeeee~” she begged so sweetly, she even managed to make her bright, lush green eyes look a bit glassy under the dim light.

Daemon rubbed his face while letting out a long-suffering groan: “No landing on the ground; stay above the fog; if you fail twice, attempt—”

Harriet cheered excitedly; she wrapped her arm around his neck and peppered his cheek with kisses.

“We return immediately if you fail to summon it twice.” Daemon scowls.

Harriet nodded enthusiastically, “Let's go! Let's go!” She practically bounces on her feet.

“Promise me first.” He demanded.

“I promise.” She answered a bit too quickly.

“Don’t cross your fingers behind your back!”

Harriet pouted; she showed her hands to Daemon, rolled her eyes, and swore again, “I promise.”

Daemon let out a deep breath; this woman will be the death of him.

Daemon circled above Harriet, who had reached their destination using her precious broom. Yet the fog was too thick below them, so Daemon hardly saw anything.

Harriet cast something; a ring of warm light spread around her. “Nothing alive around us!” she yelled.

Daemon could only hope the spell deemed Stonemen and another unknown creature that boiled Aerea alive from inside were ‘something alive.’

“I will start summoning!” Harriet yelled again.

Daemon watches Harriet point her desire to the ocean, then yells out the spell, "Accio Brightroar!"

At first, nothing happened, but then Harriet started grunting and holding her wand with both hands.

Before Daemon could yell at Harriet to let go of whatever was pulling her from the sea, a shipwreck emerged from the fog. “Seven hell!” Daemon yelled.

Harriet's triumphant laugh echoed through the foggy ocean.

“I expected you to return with petty trinkets or sweets from the market. And what do I get?” Saera asked with hand akimbo, “A bloody shipwreck in my perfectly manicured garden?!”

Harriet ducked her head in shame. “I'm sorry, Aunt Saera.” She mumbled.

“Oh my dear, I am not upset at you.” Saera cupped Harriet's cheek and smiled softly at her. She then glared at Daemon and said, "Because your stupid husband should know better!"

Daemon pointed himself in disbelief.

Harriet looked at Daemon and whispered apologies.

Daemon sighs.

It took almost three months to dismantle the shipwreck. While they wait, Daemon decides to work on his books, while Harriet ventures the city either by herself or with Saera when Daemon can’t accompany her.

He had just finished the sixth chapter of his book when there was a knock on his door. “Enter,” Daemon said.

"My prince, we have finished dismantling the ship." The servant informs him.

“Have you informed my wife and my aunt?”

“Yes, my prince, I believe Lady Harriet and Mistress Saera were on their way to the garden.”

“Good,” Daemon said as he stretched his sore limb. He wondered how much time had passed since he began working on his book.

From afar, Daemon could already hear Saera’s delightful laugh: “With that much treasure, I will even allow You to turn my garden upside down, Harriet.”

“Auntie!” Harriet groaned in embarrassment.

“What do we have here?” As Daemon entered the garden, a small mountain of gold and precious gems welcomed him. “Damn.” He commented.

“Daemon! Look.” Harriet shows him a great sword. From the pattern of the steel and the way it gleamed under sunlight, Daemon is certain it was made with Valyrian steel.

"Careful, darling, that's very sharp; I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Daemon carefully took the sword from Harriet's hand.

“I have handled swords before, Daemon; I killed a basilisk with it.” Harriet scowls.

“Yes, but you also almost died in the process.” He sneered.

Harriet huffed.

Daemon took the great sword and inspected it. The steel and the dragonbone handle remained undamaged even after years of submersion in salt water; the lionhead pommel lost its gem, but the damage was easily repairable.

“I still wonder what kind of metal Valyrian steel was.” Harriet rested her chin on Daemon's shoulder. It's much lighter than goblin metal, but twice as sturdily; how curious."

“Goblin’s metal? That's what Gryffindor’s sword is made of?”

“Nope, Gryffindor’s sword is made from pure silver.”

“Pure silver, how?”

“It's enchanted and forged by goblins. Don’t ask me how the goblin did their job; they hate wizards.”

“I see; I would like to see the sword.”

“Maybe you can one day; the sword sometimes presents itself to a worthy Gryffindor in need.”

Daemon fell silent for a moment. “I changed my mind; I didn't wish ever to see the sword anymore.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because, dearest, the only time you need a sword to defend yourself is when you’re in perilous danger, and I don’t wish ever to see you in that kind of situation.”

“Oh, Daemon…” Harriet threw her arm around Daemon’s neck and kissed her cheek sweetly.

“I wonder why you two haven’t yet had a dozen babies already,” Saera commented.

“Aunt Saera!” Harriet shrieked; she was completely flustered.

“I told you I would not dishonor Harriet,” Daemon said as he wrapped the Brightroar with thick fur. He soon needed to find an armorer to make a scabbard and repair the pommel.

“And I told you just to be done with it and hire an assassin to get rid of your first wife.”

Harriet gasped.

Daemon glared daggers at Saera. 

Seeing her error, Saera raised her hands slightly, signing a surrender.

Daemon shook his head angrily, then stomped out of the garden with Brightroar.

Harriet.

“What trouble you, my dear?” Ask Saera one evening.

Harriet looked at the middle-aged woman. “Daemon asked if I wanted to live here...permanently.”

Saera took the empty seat beside Harriet and said, “You don’t want to?”

“I don’t know.” Harriet hugged her leg and propped her chin over her knees. “Daemon said he asked because I look happy here.”

“you don’t?”

“I am happy, Aunt Saera. I like Volantis, and I like you, but it just... doesn't feel right. I already asked so much from Daemon, you know. Harriet sighs. “He practically abandoned everything to go with me.”

“That Brat may be impulsive, but trust me, he would never ask that if he didn’t know the consequences.”

“I am aware... However, to ask him to uproot his entire life is just…too much…too selfish.”

“You are allowed to be selfish, Harry. No one will ever judge you.” Saera assured her.

Harriet sighs, “No one besides myself.”

Saera laughed, “You’re truly a precious one, aren’t you?”

Harriet gave her a look.

"I'm just teasing you, my dear," Saera says softly, pinching Harriet's cheek.

Harriet pouted.

“Just do whatever you think is right, Harry. I know your heart, and I know you will always make the best decision for everyone.”

Harriet rests her cheek on her knee and sighs.

“Mistress!” One servant ran to them in a hurry.

“What is it?”

“Westeros had declared war on the Triarchy!”

Harriet's head snapped towards the servants.

Saera read the missive and snorted loudly, “That court fool finally grew a ball, huh?" She turned to Harriet and asked, "Should we notify Daemon?" She waved the missive.

Harriet snatched it, “We should! He would be furious if we kept something like this from him!”

Chapter Text

Despite the king's significant assistance, the soldiers' morale is at an all-time low; they continue to suffer defeat after defeat, and many honorable men have succumbed to their wounds.

“We need more solid plans! I can’t keep sending my men to their graves!” Lord Gunthor Darklyn protested.

“You are not the only one losing soldiers here, Lord Darklyn!” Vaemond snapped, slamming his fist on the table. “My family had suffered massive loss for years before our king finally decided to wage war with the Triarchy!”

“I think it's time to request your wife to aid us with her dragon, my lord.” Ser Arryn, Lady Jeyne's cousin and head of the Arryn soldiers, spoke calmly.

Corlys gritted his teeth; putting Rhaenys in danger was never an option. "My son-in-law's fleet will soon arrive from Braavos to assist us."

“We don’t need more soldiers or fleet, Lord Corlys! All we need is a dragon to burn Craghas Drahar's hiding cave! Your son's dragon fire is too weak to melt stone! We need a larger and older dragon!” Lord Darklyn's tone began to rise.

Corlys balled his fist. He was inches away from breaking the Darklyns' nose.

“I wish Prince Daemon were here.” Lord Alton Celtigar murmured tiredly.

Hearing Daemon’s name instantly turns Ser Royce's face an ugly shade of red. “We didn’t need Daemon Targaryen!”

How many times must I remind you that your niece passed away due to natural causes? There's no way Prince Daemon had intervened with it; he was a thousand leagues away in Essos!” Laenor stood to defend Daemon; Lord Alton Celtigar nodded.

“Even though he had nothing to do with my niece Death, it doesn’t change the fact he had dishonored her for almost two decades! We do not need a man-whore like him!” Ser Royce spat furiously.

“Prince Daemon—”

“—more dragons—”

"We didn't need Daemon Targaryen-!"

“ENOUGH!” Corlys slammed his fists on the table, “We are in the middle of the war, and we cannot spare to fight among ourselves!”

“DRAGON!!” Someone yelled from outside the camp.

“Your Lady wife finally decided to aid us, Lord Corlys?” Ask Lord Celtigar.

Did Rhaenys defy his order? However, before Corlys could reply to Lord Celtigar, another shout rang out, "It's the Blood Wyrm!"

“Prince Daemon has returned!” 

“Prince Daemon has returned!”

Hearing all the cheer, Corlys and other lords quickly exited the main tent to look at the sky.

“Prince Daemon had returned to aid us!” Shout out to another soldier.

All the soldiers, nearing their breaking point, rose to their feet and began cheering, "All hail Prince Daemon!" The Rogue Prince” 

Caraxes let out loud roars. The great beast circled the sky three times before landing with a heavy thud on a small hill.

“By Old Gods and the New! Was the Blood Wyrm always that big?” Lord Darklyn asked in awe.

“No, it's bigger than the last time I saw it,” Lord Celtigar answered.

Despite Caraxes' size, Daemon easily dismounted his great beast, as if he had done it thousands of times.

The prince extended both hands to catch a woman with wild black hair.

“It is the Witch!” Lord Royce hissed with apparent disdain in his voice.

Daemon’s second wife, The Northern Witch, Harriet Targaryen.

“Before anything else, let me express my condolences, Daemon.” Corlys spoke solemnly.

“Condolences?” Daemon asked in confusion. According to him, both Viserys and Rhaenyra were alive and well in KingsLanding.

“Your wife recently passed away,” Corlys answered.

Daemon glanced at Harriet and raised his eyebrow at Corlys. " What are you talking about, Corlys? Are you drunk? My wife is here, healthy and alive.” He proceeded to side-hug Harriet.

Harriet smacked Daemon’s arm. “Not me! Lord Corlys was talking about Lady of Runestone.”

Lord Corlys nodded, “She was hawking with several lords and ladies in the Vale; Lady Rhea fell from her horse and cracked her skull upon a stone. She lingered for nine days before finally feeling well enough to leave her bed, only to collapse and die within an hour of rising.”

“…Oh!” Daemon's confused frown gradually transformed into a wolfish grin, asking, "She died?" For real?! Ha! After nearly two decades, I am finally free from that bitch! You, Boy! Bring the ale; I need to make a toast!” He shouted at Corlys’ squire.

Harriet smacked Daemon for a second time. She couldn’t comprehend why Daemon loved to make toast at a funeral. “Halt, boy! No ale would be served!” she yelled at Corlys’ squire. She shocked the poor boy for the second time that night.

“But why, Harry? We need to make a toast on this joyous occasion.” Daemon whines.

“Joyous occasion, my ass! I won't let our troops lose Arryn's support just because you need to celebrate your wife's death!" Harriet glared at Daemon. “This is a war, Daemon; we need all the support we can get.”

Daemon clicked his tongue in displeasure.

“No celebration. Am I clear?” With hands akimbo, she glared at the man-child.

“Loud and clear, dearest.” He pouted like a perpetual child.

Harriet shook her head in exasperation, then gave Corlys an apologetic look, "I'm really sorry, my lord.”

Corlys looked completely shocked yet quickly smoothed his expression. “Fret not, my Lady.” He smiled kindly.

Daemon taps his forefinger on the table while Corlys listens to the battlefield scenario.

He had refused when the other lords asked him to lead the coalition army. Daemon told everyone he was here, but not in the name of the Crown; he came because Harriet asked him to aid the soldiers. Of course, Harriet never asked him that. Daemon is just creating an excuse because he is still furious at Viserys for declining his last petition.

Harriet observes her surroundings, with the Velayron and Celtigar appearing grateful for Daemon's help; the Arryn, particularly Ser Royce, appears sour, as if he has just bitten into the most bitter lemon in the world. If he had known that Daemon was nearly toast after his niece's death, he would have stabbed Daemon without hesitation.

"First things first, we need to seal the cave entrance so those pirates cannot return there to hide," Daemon stated after reviewing the terrain map.

“We have tried, many methods, but nothing works; the sands and the everchanging tides make it impossible to build a catapult,” Corlys explains.

“You fail, but My Harriet wouldn't.” Daemon smiled at Harriet and asked, "Do you think Bombarda has enough spells to collapse the cave entrance, dearest?"

Harriet didn’t miss how murderous Ser Royce looked when he heard Daemon call her ‘His Harriet.’ “I can try Bombarda Maxima, but I need time between recasting.”

“How long?”

“Half to one minute.” Harriet shrugged.

“Can you keep your Protego up the entire time?”

“I could.” Harriet nodded.

"Good, there's no problem then," Daemon says, staring at the terrain map again. “Ser Leanor, please assist Caraxes in burning all archers on the cliffside. Don’t forget to maintain your distance and not stand on Caraxes’ trajectory,” Daemon explained. “Harriet and I will be on the battlefield to lure the crab out, Lord Corlys?”

“Vaemond will be leading the Velaryon’s fleet; I will lead the infantry to fight by your side, Daemon,” Corlys said.

“Fine with me.” Daemon nodded.

“Wait!” Laenor interrupted, whole eyes on the camp immediately landed upon him, “You said you and Lady Targaryen will be on Battlefield, then who is going to mount Caraxes?”

“No one,” Daemon answered.

“What?!”

“You think it’s wise, Daemon?” Corlys asked in worry.

“Don’t worry about it; Caraxes know which one to burn; my Harriet will ensure it,” Daemon smiled.

Harriet nodded, “I will talk to Caraxes, but I think it will be wiser for our Archer unit not to be dispatched; Caraxes is smart, but—”

“Our Archer unit?!” Ser Royce yelled. " You were never one of us, Witch!” He spat angrily.

All eyes turned to Ser Royce.

“Daemon! Sheath your sword back!” Harriet shouted, 

People's eyes widened when they realized how close Daemon was to decapitating Ser Royce.

“I will have his head for disrespecting you!” Daemon growls menacingly, Dark sister already directed to Ser Royce’s head.

Harriet places her hand on Daemon’s chest. “Daemon, I can handle this.”

Daemon clenches his jaw.

Harriet reassures him again; Daemon finally relents and sheaths Dark Sister back into its scabbard.

All who attended the meeting held their breath, watching Harriet approach Ser Royce. “I have overstepped. I apologize, Ser Royce.” She smiled at the dour man.

Daemon's protest elicited several gasps, and Harriet's response even shocked Ser Royce.

“I'm sorry if I offended you in any way; trust me, I only had the best intentions in my heart. Caraxes is a smart dragon; there's no doubt about it. However, he tended to get excited after killing so many; I was afraid he would burn all the soldiers who brought bows and arrows with them at the height of the war,”

Ser Royce could only gape, his mouth hanging open like a fool.

Before returning to Daemon's side, Harriet smiled and bowed curtly at him.

“Why did you apologize to him?!”

“ We are at war, Daemon, ” Harriet said in Valyrian; the last thing she needed was Daemon provoking Ser Royce once more, and they ended up losing half of Arryn's troops.

“ He disrespected you! ”

“ Yes, but seeing that dour man making stupid expressions is more interesting than seeing his head rolled on the ground.” Harriet grinned. “ Isn’t it? ”

Behind them, the Velaryons and Lord Celtigar snorted loudly.

“Oh!” Harriet blushed. “I forgot there are more Valyrian speakers in the room. Greetings, my lords.”

“My lady.” They responded curtly.

Daemon huffed loudly. He pulled Harriet into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. “I will let this one slide.”

Harriet rested her chin on Daemon's chest, “Thank you.”

“Just this once!”

"Yes, yes, I won't stop you from beheading him if he continues to behave like that in the future." She grins.

Harriet leaves the meeting, worn out of Ser Royce and Ser Arryn's glares, and looks for Caraxes to provide excuses for the Dragon's task tomorrow.

Daemon gave her a knowing look. Harriet just scrunched her nose at him before leaving the tent.

On her way to Caraxes' temporary nest, she happens to stumble upon a silver-grey dragon. $You must be Seasmoke$ Harriet greets the dragon.

$Yes! Yes!$, the dragon answered while nuzzling his snout at her eagerly like an oversized puppy.

Harriet laughed as she hugged Seasmoke and patted the young dragon, $You are so sweet; did you know where Caraxes is?$

$Yes!$ Seasmoke pointed his snout toward the ocean.

Harriet frowns $You don’t know how to speak serpent tongue?$

Seasmoke laid down his head and said, $...Yes$ with sad eyes.

Ah, poor boy, one of the younglings who only understands the language but cannot speak it.

Harriet rubbed her palm near Seasmoke's nostril, $Don't be sad; Caraxes could teach you$

$No, I won't$. Caraxes landed beside Seasmoke. $I am a warrior; I no Youngling caretaker.$

$Eish, don’t you feel sorry for this sweet boy?$

Caraxes huff, $I have more important things to do$

Harriet felt sorry for Seasmoke. $Don't worry, sweetheart, you live with Meleys, right? Why don't we ask her$

Caraxes let out a snort like a huff; $Meleys can’t speak. Like Syrax; she thinks the serpent's tongue is below her$

$ah no wonder$ Harriet rub Seasmoke snout, $poor youngling$ She turn at Caraxes, $come now Caraxes, just teach him$

$I told you I have many more important things to do$

$Like what? Eating and sleeping?$ 

$Eating and sleeping are important$

Harriet rolled her eyes at the blood wyrm.

Seasmoke stood up and flew away,

$Are you happy now for breaking that sweet youngling's heart?!$ Harriet scolds Caraxes.

Caraxes just respond with a huff.

Minutes later, Seasmoke was back with freshly dead sheep, which he pushed toward Caraxes with his snout.

$You think if you bribe me, I will be willing to teach you?$

$Yes!$ Seasmoke nods enthusiastically.

Harriet covers her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Caraxes let out a rumbling roar like an amused laugh, $Fine; I will teach you, youngling$

$Yes! Yes!$ Seasmoke was flapping his wings with joy.

$Don’t be too happy. I will only teach you the basics; you may ask Dreamfyre to teach you the rest$

Seasmoke nodded happily.

“I never seen Seasmoke that happy before,” said someone.

Harriet turns around and finds Laenor Velaryon, Corlys Velaryon's son, and Seasmoke's pet. “Ser Laenor.” Harriet greeted the young man.

“My lady.” He returned the greeting.

“Seasmoke was happy because Caraxes agreed to teach him the serpent tongue.”

“Really? How kind of him.”

“Trust me, it does not come from kindness. Seasmoke needs to bribe Caraxes with sheep first in order to make Caraxes agree to teach him.”

“For real?” Laenor laughed in amusement. 

Harriet nodded.

Laenor stared at her for a moment before saying, “You are far from any rumors I heard about you, my lady.”

"Are there rumors that I'm a witch who enjoys abducting and devouring children?" Harriet inquired. Harriet smiled mischievously at the young Velaryon knight.

Laenor burst out laughing, “That's one of many ridiculous rumors about you, but I want to talk about the rumors that said you have bewitched Prince Daemon and forced him to leave his family behind.”

“Oh, that.” Harriet snickered. “So people believe that I was capable of forcing the infamous Rouge Prince to do something he didn’t want?”

"Most people, like The King, my wife, Princess Rhaenyra, and my sister, believe this."

Are you among the majority?

"While I find it weird that Daemon keeps rejecting the King's summons, I don't believe you bewitched him and kept him under your control; he is still the Daemon I knew."

“Daemon rejecting King’s summons?”

“You don’t know?”

Harriet shook her head, “I have no idea.”

“Well, if you and Daemon planned to return to the king's landing, you should prepare yourself, “The king hates you for making Daemon no longer prioritize him; my wife and my sister believe if you do not take Daemon away, they don’t need to be forced into marrying someone they don’t love for the sake of creating an alliance to support the war,”

“Well fuck.” Harriet barked a laugh. "Laenor, I am genuinely sorry that you are compelled to marry someone you do not love, but I am unconcerned about those three."

Laenor waved his hand. “It's fine. It is not as though I will be able to marry the love of my life if I do not marry Rhaenyra.

“Oh?”

Laenor gives her a sad smile.

“I still don’t understand why muggles are so against homosexuality; it's almost like they had no better things to do.”

Laenor gapped at her, “…How?” It's all he could ask.

“Well, you said you can’t marry the love of your life; it could only mean that your lover is either a man or a commoner.”

“And you didn’t mind about it?”

“Who am I to feel entitled to minding other people's business?”

Laenor looked at her in disbelief,

Harriet patted Laenor's shoulder. Living life while you can is important, but be cautious. I don’t wish to see you paraded naked by an upset religious mob.” She winked at him.

Laenor huffed a laugh, “Now I understand why Daemon is so enamored with you.”

$Burn all two legs with a bow on the cliff$ Caraxes repeat the order.

$Correct, don’t fly too close to the two-leg; their prickly arrow cannot penetrate your scale but is still able to tear your wing$

$Don’t worry about me and prepare my lambs$ the great Wyrm demand.

Harriet laughed. $I will make sure Daemon prepares the best lambs$ she said before kissing Caraxes’ snout. 

She then approached Seasmoke, $Be careful and stay out of Caraxes way; he can be snappy when excited$

$Yes! Careful!$

Harriet pats Seasmoke’s snout and looks up to Laenor, “Good luck.” She said,

"You too, Harriet," Laenor nodded;

Harriet smiled at the young knight, then returned to Daemon's side.

“Done?” Daemon asked.

Harriet nodded. “Our big baby knew who to roast.”

Daemon smiles and kisses Harriet's temple.

They stand by Corlys’ side, waiting for the man to finish his rally speech to the troops. Once the Velayron lord finishes allocating the soldiers, Daemon steps up before the Crown’s infantry troops.

Daemon stood tall, stared into all the soldiers' eyes, raised his shield, and pounded it with his sword.

“Men of Westeros! For years, those filthy pirates had been plundering our wealth! Killing our men! Raping our woman! Enslaving our child! But it shall end today!

Today, the spear shall be shaken, and shields shall be splintered! Today, we will rain fire and blood upon our enemies! Today, we will win the war!”

Each of the soldiers unsheathed their swords and started thumping their shield while crying Fire and Blood.

Chapter Text

Harriet and Daemon waste no time. Once they step into the battlefield, Harriet blasts shut every cave entrance in record time while Daemon defends her from incoming attacks.

When the Triarchy pirates had no more caves to retreat to, their attacks gradually became more brutal and desperate. Yet, they are nothing compared to the Dothraki; they lack agility and deadlines.

Honestly, Harriet was quite bored.

Daemon, who seems to be able to read her mind, said, “I told you we don’t need the troops.” He laughed as he slashed one pirate in half.

“They’re nothing but cowards,” Harriet blasted pirates that were about to charge toward them with Depulso.

“'Even Caraxes sounds bored.” Daemon crackles while parrying a pirate's half-assed attack.

Many burning Triarchy archers jumped down from the cliff that surrounded them, hoping for a swift death; everything was going smoothly according to plan.

“Because it is boring!” Harriet slashes the pirate with Sectumsempra .

“Then how about after this, we burn Vaes Dothrak and wage war with the whole Khalasar?” As he plunged the Dark Sister into a pirate's head, Daemon posed a playful question.

“I said I was bored, Daemon, not that I was feeling suicidal!” Harriet spat as she transfigured one pirate into a massive timber and threw it to the enemy's flank.

Daemon's laughter sounded strange amidst the clashing swords, but Harriet somehow liked it. 

They engaged in side-by-side combat, eliminating as many pirates as they could, until Daemon, in an effort to protect Harriet, pushed her aside and took a Fire Arrow to his shoulder.

“Daemon!” Harriet cried in horror when she saw the arrow start setting Daemon’s shoulder on fire.

Daemon pulled out the arrow immediately. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he assured her, pressing his hand upon the blistering open wound.

Harriet becomes red-faced upon witnessing Daemon's agony and the blood staining his hand; she has reached her limit and has ceased her play. “Did their mothers never tell them not to play with fire?” Harriet hisses furiously.

“Darling, wha— your eyes! Fuck!” Daemon tried to stop her, but Harriet was too upset to listen.

Harriet pointed the elder wand at their enemy, “PESTIS INCENDIUM!” she cast without hesitation. The cursed fire emerged from the tip of her wand in the form of a massive dragon, which kept growing larger and larger until it was as big as Caraxes.

“FALL BACK!! FALL BACK!” Daemon orders the Westerosi soldiers to retreat. Yet everyone seems to have forgotten how to move, all their eyes glued to the fire creature Harriet made.

Once it stopped growing, the fire dragon opened its eyes and let out a deafening roar that matched Harriet’s wrath.

The roar makes people snap from their shock, allies, enemies, and even the dragons begin to scramble away to safety.

$Youngling! Stay away from the fire!$ Caraxes roared, urging Seasmoke to leave the battlefield.

The young silver-grey dragon obeyed; he made a sharp turn and flew as fast as he could to the open sea.

The curse fire makes its move and burns even brighter. It swallows everything that is alive in its path. No living things are spared; even the stone starts melting, and the sand hardens under the blasting fire.

“déaþ-sætr-ἡδύς déaþ” The elder wand began to rumble in the middle of screams and destruction in her grasp, just like it did back then in Meereen. 

Harriet gasped,. She pushed the intoxicating feeling of Dark Magic to the back of her head and quickly dispelled the Fiendfyre. 

Once the fire vanished and the smoke dispersed, Harriet was presented with nothing. 

She finds nothing alive in front of her; not even a single carcass remains visible. There are just melted rocks, crystallized sand, and ashes.

“Damn,” Daemon commented. “Are you sure you don’t want to wage war with Dothraki?”

“How could you still joke at times like this?!” Harriet smacks Daemon’s arm, making the man hiss in pain.

Harriet gasped in horror when she realized what she had done, “Godric’s heart! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She began to fuss upon the wound on Daemon’s shoulder.

“I am well, my love; this is just a small wound.” He chucked in amusement.

Harriet cast all the healing charms she remembers before bandaging the wound with the Ferula spell.

“You hurt anywhere else?” Harriet asked.

“No, I’m all healed, thanks to you.” Daemon bent slightly, stealing a kiss from her lips. Harriet instantly blushed scarlet and almost smacked the sly man again. 

“Let's return now, my love.” Daemon chuckled and wrapped his uninjured arm around her shoulder. 

When they turned around, they were welcomed by thousands of Westerosi soldiers looking at them, Harriet in particular, with huge eyes filled with terror.

Harriet gasped; a chill began creeping down her spine.

“What are you all looking at?!” Daemon yells angrily, “Return to your barracks! We have won!”

Snapped from their reverie, people began to let out a choking cheer.

“Harry.”

“Yes, Daemon?” While applying burn-healing paste to Daemon's scar in the safety of their tent, Harriet questioned him.

“Would you marry me?”

Harriet clutched the jar of burn healing paste tightly while staring at Daemon in disbelief. “…Come again?”

Daemon put away the healing paste, took both of Harriet's hands, stared directly at her eyes, and said, “Harriet Lily Potter, would you give me the honor of marrying you?”

Harry blinked hard, many thoughts swimming in her head at once. “You don’t need to feel obligated to marry me just because everyone thinks I'm your wife, Daemon; I’m content with what we have now,” she said as calmly as possible while bandaging Daemon’s shoulder.

Daemon takes Harriet both hands once more and says, “There’s nothing to do with how other people think! I love you, Harriet! I have loved you for a long time!”

Harriet's breath hitched. “You…loved me?”

“Yes, dearest, I love you,” Daemon said, his eyes filled with determination. "I never asked you before because I didn't wish to dishonor you," he said, lightly squeezing her hand, "and since there is no one between us now, I want to marry you legally."

Harriet almost agreed but remembered one of Saera's japes: “You sure? I'm not the Valyrian bride you always dreamed of, Daemon.”

“Who told you that?! It's Saera, isn’t it? That damn old hag doesn’t know when to shut up!” Daemon groaned in shame, “I never thought my teenage spiteful comment would bite me back like this!” He rubbed his face in frustration.

Harriet looks at Daemon in confusion.

“That's just a teenage rant, my love. I felt angry and spiteful because Viserys and Rhaenys, had the freedom to choose their bride and groom, who were Valyrian descendants, while I was sold to the Royces.”

“Ah…”

Daemon kisses Harriet's knuckles and says, "I don't need a Valyrian bride; I need you, Harry, my beautiful enchantress."

Harriet looked into Daemon's eyes. "I...," she swallowed hard, "do not share; if you stray from me, I will kill you." She didn't know why she said it or why she felt like she needed to keep scaring him and pushing him away.

Daemon barked a laugh. “I will gladly let you transfigure me into a frog and cook me, my love.” He kisses her knuckles and says, “I don’t need anyone else; I only need you.”

Harriet gazed into Daemon's violet eyes, knowing he was telling the truth. During their nearly two-year tour together, Daemon had never once strayed from her, never looked at another woman, and he had rebuffed numerous whores' advances at Yunkai and Volantis. He even let her transfigure one of his allegedly ‘favorite’ whores into a cow because the whore dared disrespect her.

Daemon looked at her with anticipation, his hand trembling slightly.

Harriet finally felt all doubt vanish from her mind, entering her mind to say, “If you are truly sure, then yes, I will marry you, Daemon Targaryen.”

Harriet had never seen Daemon that happy before. He lifted her, spun her, and peppered her with kisses. "We should marry now.”

“Now? Here?”

"Yes, here and now, before Viserys had a chance to sell me to another highest bidder, like what Queen Alyssane does."

“I don’t think your brother would do that.”

“I am not taking chances.”

“But we are in the middle of nowhere.”

"Don't worry about it," Daemon pecks Harriet's lips. I will prepare everything.” He puts on his tunic and leaves the tent like a whirlwind.

True to his words, Daemon indeed took care of everything.

When Harriet asks how he managed to get a Valyrian priest and all the necessary equipment for the ritual, he replies nonchalantly, “I had my way.”

Harriet suspects that her husband just went to the nearest Fourteen Flame temple and kidnapped the priest, judging how pale and traumatized he was.

Harriet shook her head in amusement.

On the shore of Stepstone They Marry, with Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord Celtigar, Laenor Velaryon, and a Maester stood as witness.

Harriet looks at their joint blood goblet; there's a trace of magic in it.

When Harriet sips the blood, she feels a magical rush in her veins, engulfing her heart like a warm blanket. “There’s no going back, Daemon. Once you drink this, you will be bound to me for the rest of our lives,” Harriet warns him.

Daemon snatched the goblet from Harriet's hand and emptied it in one big gulp. “Now you are bound to me for the rest of our life, my darling wife.” He smiled widely.

"For the rest of our lives." She echoed his sentiment before meeting his lips with her own.

His hands cradled her face as he pulled her deeper into the kiss. Not that Harriet was complaining. Daemon was a brilliant kisser, after all.

“Harriet.” She jumped when Daemon touched her arm. “What is the matter?”

Harriet looked at Daemon; guilt started gnawing her heart.

“Why are you so nervous?” He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. “What worries you, dearest?”

“I—” Harriet felt like crying. She couldn't believe she had forgotten to inform Daemon about her circumstances. “I am truly sorry, Daemon.”

“Sorry about what?”

“I forgot to tell you something—” Harriet ducked her head, too afraid to look Daemon in the eyes. “—I don't mean to hide this or to try to deceive you—" she said, taking a shallow breath. "I genuinely forgot about it; since it's been years since I was in a relationship, I am aware of how Westerosi men expect their wives to remain chaste before they marry—" Harriet balled her fist, fighting the urge to break down crying. “I…understand if you want to annul our marriage…”

“Harriet, are you trying to say…”

“I was no maiden, Daemon!” She cried in frustration. Tears began to well in her eyes.

Daemon reached out and touched her hand. “Harriet, love, look at me, please.” He kissed the back of her hands, and she shivered at the feel of his soft lips. 

Slowly, Harriet lifted her head to meet Daemon's gaze. She searched for a hint of disdain or disgust in his eyes, but she found none. Daemon looked at her with his usual loving gaze.

“You don’t need to be ashamed, love; I don’t care about any of that.”

“Truly?”

"Darling, I should be ashamed; I was the man-whore and widower in this relationship." He smiles at her. “I was the one who needed to be afraid that you would regret marrying me.”

“You are not a man-whore, and I do not regret marrying you.”

“I'm glad, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was once a man-whore before I met you.” Haring Daemon’s chuckles make Harriet feel relieved.

"Is there anything else that worries you?"

Harriet shakes her head.

Daemon kissed her softly; one of his hands traced the curve of her waist while his other hand took her hair and moved it aside, placing it over her right shoulder. "Good, because I can't wait to have you, dearest," he whispered, making her body tremble as he lowered his head and kissed the back of her neck. His lips then moved to a spot below her ear. “Two years—” His fingers moved quickly over the back of her gown, the laces giving way until her gown was on the ground, her other clothes following swiftly. “I almost lost my mind for wanting you—” His lips moved over her bare shoulder. “Gods! Your skin is so soft, darling.” He ran a finger down her spine. “And you smell so divine, too.”

His hands moved over and around her hips, clutching her belly, before he gently moved them upwards until they were below her breasts. Her legs were shaking, and she was struggling to breathe. He pressed his body against hers, and she could feel how hard he was as his cock pressed against her back. Daemon’s hand clamped around her throat, but it did not feel threatening as he turned her until they were facing each other. 

He kissed her, then released her. Harriet was about to protest, but she saw Daemon begin to undress himself. Her eyes traveled down his body, enjoying how handsome he was. His muscles were well-defined, probably from all his training; there was no softness there. She continued moving down, and her eyes widened when she saw his cock. Merlin’s beard! It was the biggest cock Harriet ever saw; it's not like she had seen many, but… Godric’s heart!

“Like what you saw, Darling?”

“I don’t think that will fit.” She blurted out without thinking.

Daemon burst out laughing; his mouth took hers again, sending her senses into overdrive. He shifted her onto the bed, positioning her back on the pillows. The head of his cock touched her core, and she started to tense once more, then moaned when Daemon pressed his cock against her, dragging it over her slit. When he began to relax inside of her, one of her hands reached for the back of his neck, and her nails dug in. Her lips opened against his, and her body struggled to adjust to the length and girth of his cock.

There was no pain or discomfort; she felt full and stretched, but her body just wanted more. Daemon stared down at her, his pupils blown wide as he started to move. He pumped his hips and tightened one of his hands around her leg.

“You feel so good, Harry.” His voice was hoarse and heavy. “I always dreamed of you like this, drowning in pleasure. Your voice hoarse from screaming my name.”

She screamed his name and other things that she was unsure of. Bliss consumed her as he moved faster, their moans and screams echoing around the tent and possibly out of it. Her hips moved against his, their bodies crashing together until it felt like her body would shatter. Daemon showed a particular hard trust; that was all her body needed to explode. Harriet’s body shook as Daemon groaned above her. 

Daemon kissed her softly, bringing her mouth to his. As she kissed him, a smile would not leave her face, making him smile against her lips. Harriet felt Daemon's cock gradually hardening once more inside her. “I want you again.” He said it hoarsely.

“Then what are you waiting for, my love?” She teased him.

Daemon sucked his breath. “You love me!”

“Of course I love you; why would I marry you if I don’t?” She frowned.

“You never said it before!” He pouted.

Harriet blinked, “Really?”

Daemon rolled his eyes.

Harriet laughed; she cupped both Daemon’s cheeks, kissed him senselessly, and said, “I love you, Daemon Targaryen; I just never said it out loud.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, I love you even though you tried to roast me alive TWICE on our first meeting.”

“Dearest!” Daemon groaned, “I already apologize!”

“Yes, you did, and I forgive you, but I never promise to never talk about it ever again,” Harriet laughed.

Daemon huffed, “I guess I'll just live with it.”

“That you do.” Harriet pecks Daemon’s lips.

Westeros

“Where’s my brother, Lord Corlys?” Viserys asked when Corlys entered the throne room only with Laenor, Vaemond, Lord Celtigar, and Ser Arryn.

“Prince Daemon decided not to return and resume his Essos’ tour, Your Grace.”  

“What?!” Viserys snapped, “Was he aware I already prepared a Victory banquet and Tourney to honor him?”

“Prince Daemon is well aware of the banquet and tourney, Your Grace.”

“Then why?!”

“I cannot tell, Your grace, but He left me several messages to relay to you,”

Viserys frowned in confusion.

Corlys pulls out the letter that Daemon wrote. He looks at Viserys and then at the court member, hoping he won't get into too much trouble after reading this. “First, Prince Daemon wants to let everyone know that he and Lady Harriet did not aid Battle in Stepstone as a representative of the Crown but as themselves.”

Viserys' eyes widened, and the court members began whispering at each other.

“Second, following the recent death of Prince Daemon's first wife, Rhea Royce, Lady of Runestone, Prince Daemon decide to legally married Lady Harriet Lily Targaryen in a Valyrian ceremony, witnessed by myself, my son Laenor, and Lord Celtigar. A maester was present to properly documented the union and sent the record to the Citadel.”

“He what?!” Viserys roared.

“Prince Daemon has legally married Lady Harriet Targaryen, your grace.” Corlys repeats slowly as he explained things to a child: “They also have consummated their marriage properly; there's no Maester to confirm it officially, but—” he clears his throat, “Prince Daemon makes sure everyone who has ears is aware he is fulfilling his duty.”

Viserys' mouth hung open.

"Third, Prince Daemon suggested that you not try to annul his marriage with Lady Harriet, because if you, your grace, deem the marriage invalid, it's the same as deeming King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne's marriage invalid and declaring all their descendants as Bastards."

Chaos finally erupted on the court member's side, while Visery's face immediately turned an ugly shade of deep red, almost purple, out of anger and exasperation.

“Lastly, Prince Daemon wants you to know that he is not your dog that you could summon and banish as you please—” Corlys enjoyed the second uproar, its sound like sweet music in his ear, and the way Viserys looked almost fainted upon the iron throne were cherry on top of delicious cake, “That’s all your grace.” He hands over the letter to a king's guard, who then relays it to Viserys.

Viserys read the letter twice, and then his face twisted in pain before crushing the letter. Corlys bet it's because of the part where Daemon crossed ‘Your Brother’ and addressed himself as Son of Baelon Targaryen instead. 

“Court dismissed!” he yelled before leaving the throne room, followed by his entourage.

“He deserved that,” Laenor commented lowly enough just for them to hear.

“Oh, yes, he does.” Corlys chuckled. He felt that all the resentment and humiliation he had to endure since Viserys refused to marry Laena and his reluctance to openly wage war with the Triarchy, which led Corlys to suffer massive losses, paid in full.

“You could just hand over the letter.” Lord Alton Celtigar said the man no longer looked pale and tired, his skin now glowing, and his cheek no longer sunken.

Corlys smirks at the man and says, "I could... But it's way more interesting this way, isn’t it?”

Alton Celtigar laughed, “You sound like Lady Harriet.”

Corlys hummed; he hoped Daemon and Harriet would visit Driftmark soon. Rhaenys would love to be acquainted with the new Lady Targaryen.

Small Council

“Did Lady Targaryen truly create dragon-shaped fire out of thin air?” When they were waiting for the King and Otto Hightower in the council room, Lord Lyman Beesbury asked curiously.

“It’s true, my lord; the fire burns hotter than Balerion’s fire,” Corlys answered.

“It even melted the sand.” Alton Celtigar added, “Show him, Corlys.” 

Corlys gives one of many crystallized sands he took from the battlefield as a reminder of the war.

“Gods be good!" Beesbury exclaimed as he inspected the crystal.

“May I?” Lyonel asks next; Lyman Beesbury hands over the crystal to the Master of Law.

“I also heard The Lady could turn men into massive timber.”

“Not only timber! Lady Harriet could turn a man into a big rock! And you know what, Lyman? The lady knew how to fight! She’s no stranger to the battlefield; she matches Prince Daemon perfectly!”

“And you think it's a good thing, Alton?”

“What do you mean, Lyman?”

“If what you said is true, can you imagine the chaos that the two of them could create?”

“Glad you bring that up, Lyman,” Corlys interjected.

All heads turn toward Corlys.

“We are all aware of the purpose of this emergency court hearing; the king wants to dissolve Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet's marriage. We all know what Prince Daemon is capable of; I guarantee he would react badly if King allowed to have his way,”

“Prince Daemon truly besotted the lady,” Alton said.

“Truly?” Beesbury asked in disbelief.

“Truly, Lyman, it's truly weird for me to see Prince Daemon keep calling the lady My Harriet, Darling, and Dearest all the time.”

"Are you certain the prince isn't under a spell?"

“Nah~ I don’t think so, Lyonel; the prince is the same as always,” 

“I agree,” Corlys added. “He seems more mature, though; he no longer seeks validation from the king.” 

“It's all because now He seeks validation from his lady wife!” Alton snickered.

Before Corlys could remind Alton to mind his words, the council room door swung open.

“You have to annul their marriage, Your grace.” Otto said as he, Viserys, and Grand Maester entered the room. "We need to marry Prince Daemon to another lady of Westeros, and his witch to another lord!"

“I beg to differ, my lord Hand,” Lyonel interjected, “as Prince Daemon stated, Your grace, you annul Prince Daemon’s marriage; it will deem all King Jaehaerys’ descendants, including the king, a Bastard.”

Visery took a sharp breath.

“Well, even the annulment comes without consequences; I don’t think it’s wise to separate those two lovebirds,” Alton Celtigar hummed.

“What is that supposed to mean, Lord Celtigar?” Otto asked.

"Did you really expect Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet to just stand by idly if you tried to break them apart?" Lady Harriet is capable of creating a dragon-shaped fire from thin air that is even more intense than Balerion's fire, for goodness sake!

“It’s just an exaggerated tale.” Otto scoffs.

Corlys grabbed another crystalized sand from his pocket and tossed it to the center of the table for everyone to see. “If you are still in denial about Lady Harriet's power, then explain that.”

“What is it?” Viserys asked.

Grand Maester picked up the crystal and said, “It's glass made of sand, your grace.” After a quick examination, he said:

“You are correct, grand maester, It’s the sand that burns under Lady Harriet’s fire; her fire not only melts rock like Balerion did with Harrenhal, it also turns sand into glass.”

“That’s impossible!” Otto insisted.

“You are welcome to question Lord Darklyn, Ser Arryn, Ser Royce, and every infantry soldier who is present at the battlefield, Lord Hand.”

“Then what should we do?” Viserys asked; he looked utterly desperate.

“Nothing,” Corlys answered. “My counsel to this council is to leave Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet alone.”

“I agree with Lord Corlys; it is not wise to anger the prince and his lady wife, considering how much destruction the two of them are capable of doing.” Lyman Beesbury adds.

“Prince Daemon and his witch wife are King Viserys' subjects! They should abide by the king and cannot be allowed to do as they please!” 

Corlys laments the hopelessness of this small council, certain that Viserys and Otto will eventually kill them all. “Well, Lord Hand, Your Grace, if you two insist on bothering Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet Targaryen–” Corlys makes sure to emphasize the Targaryen part, “I wish you to inform me beforehand so I could make sure that all my family members were far away from King’s Landing.”

Otto stood up as if it would make him look menacing, “Are you implying something, Lord Corlys?!”

“I'm not implying anything, my dear Lord. Hand, I am not willing to die in vain just because someone feels entitled to force everyone to submit to his will simply because they wear a crown and shiny pin on their chest." Corlys stood up from their chair and grabbed the crystalized glass, “Good day, Your grace, My lords; I hope all of you will never see Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet Wrath because it burns brighter than Seven Hells.” He bowed, then made his exit, followed by Alton.

Chapter Text

Westeros - The Red Keep

“I told you! I told you to annul his marriage and marry him to me!” Rhaenyra screamed.

Viserys took a deep breath, then massaged the bridge of his nose, saying, “Not now, Rhaenyra.”

“When?! When is ever the right time for you, father?” Rhaenyra snapped back.

Viserys looks at his daughter in disbelief.

“Did you ever realize how your indecisiveness and denial have cost us so much? We lost not only Wyrm but also our family's most fierce protector.

“We don’t need Daemon.”

“We need Daemon!” Rhaenyra yelled, “Have you forgotten who raised an army to support your claim?”

“The lords of seven kingdoms—”

“The lords of the Seven Kingdoms would choose Rhaenys if they were not too afraid of Daemon’s threat to set the Seven Kingdoms ablaze!” Rhaenyra spat, 

“He’s not good for you, Rhaenyra! All he ever wanted was my crown!”

"So you think marrying me to a pillowbiter who can't even bed me properly is good for me?"

“Rhaenyra, Laenor is not—”

"Father, he can't even plant seeds in my womb! His cock went limp just by entering my cunt!”

Viserys gasped loudly at the crude description.

“You have doomed us all, father!” Rhaenyra laughed bitterly, “You had unleashed the monster you were always afraid of, free to do whatever he wished.”

Viserys felt a lump forming inside his throat, making it difficult to breathe. “I only did what was best for the realm.”

“The best thing you could do for the realm is secure Daemon's loyalty by giving him the king consort’s crown!” Rhaenyra spat, “You had everything you needed for your peaceful reign! You had the mighty Rogue Prince wrapped tightly around your finger! And what do you do? You listen to Otto’s venomous counsel and end up losing everything.”

"You know nothing of the weight of the crown!"

"True, but I know better than to marry my heir to a pillowbiter, and not to cut my wife open to give birth to a baby that did not even survive a night."

Viserys didn't know what possessed him to backhand Rhaenyra so hard until she slumped to the floor.

Viserys gaped as he stare at Rhaenyra’s split lips in horror. “Rhaenyra, I—”

Rhaenyra swatted Viserys's hand, anger burning brightly in her eyes.

Without saying anything, Rhaenyra stood up on her own and left Viserys’ chamber.

Pentos.

Harriet

“Are you still sulking?” Daemon chuckled.

“I still can’t believe that stupid war cost us Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh!”

“We can’t do anything, love; they refuse to open their gates for us; they are too afraid we will conquer them.”

“It’s not fair! I want to try Tyroshi Pear Brandy and buy Myrish Lace! I also want to visit the Master Armorsmith and Glass Crafter workshop!”

“Lucky you, you could find everything here in Pentos.”

“It’s not the same!” Harriet wailed.

Daemon cooed to Harriet, “Ooh, my poor darling.”

Harriet glared at him.

Daemon laughed. He lifted Harriet to sit on his lap. He continued to kiss her face until she began to giggle. “Stop it!”

"I will cease if you stop your sulking," he stated before beginning to pepper her face with wet kisses.

“Ew! Gross! Daemon!” she shrieks.

Their gleeful laughter soon interrupted by a faint knock on the door: "Come in!" Daemon shouted.

The door swung open, presenting a servant who bowed to them, “The supper is ready, My prince, My lady.”

“Thank you for informing us; we will be there soon.” Harriet smiled at the servant.

“You are too nice,” Daemon commented after the servant left.

“It's difficult to look at servants without thinking of Dobby.” Harriet sighs.

Ah, the little elf who sacrificed his life to save Harriet and her friends from captivity, “I never met that brave little elf, but I am eternally grateful for his sacrifice.” Daemon rubbed Harriet's back.

Harriet smiled at Daemon, “Dobby would love you; he loves chaos.”

"Yes, I remember your story about how he relentlessly tried to keep you away from Hogwarts and, on top of that, nearly killed you with what ball?"

“A Bludger.” Harriet chuckled. “Must you remember everything I say?”

“I had no option, my love; all your stories are either interesting or bizarre, and it's tough to forget.” Daemon chuckled,

Harriet kisses Daemon’s lips; she loves her silly prince; he is truly everything she ever wished—someone who is attentive and sees her as who she is.

"If you keep kissing me, we'll end up missing dinner again, my love." Harriet could feel Daemon’s sly smile on her lips.

Harriet quickly stood up and scrunched her nose at the man.

“Now—now— love, don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” Daemon nuzzled his nose over a sensitive spot on Harriet’s neck.

“Of course I enjoy it! But I hate the after when I can’t feel my legs and the joints ache that follows after we finish! I feel like a newborn foal every single time!” She glared at him.

Daemon laughed, “You do like a newborn foal, with shaky legs and everything.”

Harriet rolled her eyes before leaving the room.

“Are we celebrating something?” After observing the abundance of lavishly arranged food on the extended table, Daemon inquires.

“Yes—” Saera stepped out of the dark hallways, like a villain out of a storybook: "Your overdue wedding banquet." She glared furiously.

Seeing that, Daemon yelps and quickly hides behind Harriet, as if it could protect him from Saera's wrath.

“Aunt Saera!” Harriet greets the woman happily.

“Harry, dear,” Saera said, hugging Harriet warmly. Congratulations on your official marriage, Lady Targaryen.” She wriggled her eyebrow.

Harriet blushed, “Thank you. Auntie, I'm truly sorry for not being able to invite you to the wedding. Daemon insisted on holding the wedding right away, fearing King Viserys might attempt to marry another woman in Westeros.

Saera glared at Daemon, “As much as I wanted to hit your husband, his hunch was right.”

“Huh? What did you mean?” Daemon asked.

"Otto Hightower urged Viserys to annul your marriage; he wanted Daemon to wed Lady Forrester in the north for their Ironwood, and you, my dear, to some vassal of the House of Hightower in the old town."

“I knew it!” Daemon spat angrily.

Observing the worry in Harriet's eyes, Saera comforted her, saying, "Don't worry, Harry, your rascal husband makes sure your marriage is ironclad; also, the Small Council does not agree; those councilmen were too afraid Daemon would crash Caraxes upon Red Keep and set everything ablaze." Saera snickered.

“I probably would do that.” Daemon laughed as he kissed Harriet’s temple.

Saera sat and began filling her cup with amber wine. “I really don’t understand how Viserys' mind works—” She sipped the wine. "I meant, He should be grateful that someone so powerful like Harriet's now tied to the Crown. Did he even consider the potential consequences if he married Harriet to another lord and that lord decided to rebel? Did he even think at all?”

“He never thought of the possibility, Saera; he was in the delusion that the whole realm loved him so much and wouldn’t ever rise against him.” Daemon rolled his eyes.

“Viserys the fool.” Saera raised her goblet in mocking salute.

“It's all Otto.” Harriet sighs, “I overheard several times that the bastard convinced Viserys that Daemon is the incarnation of Maegor and he will take Viserys’ crown just like Maegor took Aenys.” Harriet scowled, “Maegor never took Aenys’ crown for fuck sake!”

“Not a fan of Otto Hightower, I see?” Saera chuckled.

Harriet rolled her eyes and said, "Trust me, the hate is mutual."

“If you decide to kill him, please make it as painful as possible, will you, dear?”

Harriet blinked at Saera. “I know Otto is easy to hate, but what happened, Aunt Saera?”

“Did Daemon tell you how I ended up running away from Westeros?”

Harriet nodded,

"Well, I happened to find out that King Jaehaerys never ordered for me to join Silent Sister." Saera smiled bitterly at Daemon.

Daemon gasped, “Don’t tell me!”

“The plan is to make me serve as acolytes at the Starry Sept for three months to teach me some humility and marry me to some minor lord in the Crownland who didn’t bother to have a compromise bride,” Saera chuckled darkly.

Daemon's face went to stone, pain flashed in his eyes; Harriet had never seen him so angry before.

“Otto came to me that night, saying that the King is going to cut my tongue and force me to join the silent sister. He gives me your coin purse, the one Septa confiscated when I entered the service, then leads me to the ship that will smuggle me to the Lys—” she stares blankly at her empty goblet for a moment before put the goblet away and smiling widely at them. “I bet you already know the rest of the story, right?”

Harriet embraces Saera tightly; she can’t imagine what it felt if she were in Saera’s shoes.

“I will kill that bastard!” Daemon roared.

“Patience, Daemon. If you killed him now, he would only become a martyr. You need to wait till the time comes when he makes a huge blunder of his life.”

“What if the time never came?!”

"It will, Daemon; believe me, it will—and when that day finally comes, avenge me."

Daemon took a shaky breath before joining the hug. “I will flay him open and hang him upside down at the castle gate for everyone to see.” Daemon swore.

“I think you better hire a Bolton for that; you need a professional to do the job if you want to keep him alive longer.”

Daemon let out a wet laugh.

"You, Targaryen, with your dark humor." Harriet sniffled.

“…130 gold dragons, 5 silver, and 22 copper.” Saera whispered between her chuckles.

“Huh?” Daemon asked.

“The contents of the coin purse that you gave to me that night before I left for Old Town, money that funded my empire.” Saera laughed.

“Stop trying to make me cry, you old Hag!” Daemon spat, his eyes already red and glistening with tears, “It's my lifetime savings to buy a good sword for my first tourney.”

“Well, I'm glad to know that your good deed brings you Dark Sister.” Saera is crackling, while Harriet rubs Daemon's tears away from the tail of his eyes.

“Enough talking; I’m famished!” Daemon abruptly ends the conversation with a haughty sniff, unwanted to embarrass himself further.

“Daemon!” Reggio entered the dining room in a hurry and said, “I just got a raven that said Otto Hightower attempted to convince King Viserys to annul your marriage.”

“Merlin’s beard! Just how many spies exist in the red keep?” Harriet wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I told you, Harry, the wall in the Red Keep had ears.” Saera laughed.

“Daemon, I have something important to ask you.” During their dinner, Reggio spoke.

“What is it, Reggio?”

“You need to share with me your secret!”

“What secret?” Daemon asked curiously.

Harriet and Saera both raised their eyebrows.

“The secret of how you can pleasure Lady Harriet for three days straight!”

Harriet immediately choked on her food, while Daemon and Saera burst out laughing.

She nearly propelled her half-chewed roasted pork across the room!

“Here, drink this, my love.” Daemon offered a glass of water to Harriet. “My poor darling.” He patted her back softly to help dislodge the damn roasted pork.

“I can’t believe you two!” Harriet yells between coughs.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, Lady Harriet. Considering how open you're to any topic we have had, I thought you’d open up to discussion like this.” Reggio indeed looks apologetic.

Harriet waved her hand at Reggio, gesturing to the prince of Pentos that she was fine.

“So you two are planning to have children soon?” Next, Saera asked.

For the second time that night, Harriet choked.

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Daemon answered while helping with another glass of water.

“Should I prepare moon tea? Or Lady Harriet prefers Asafoetida?” Reggio asked.

“Asa— what?” Between her coughs, Harriet asks.

“Asafoetida, Darling, it's the name of a plant to prevent pregnancy.” Daemon explained, “And you don’t have to prepare it, Reggio; Harriet had a spell for it.”

“You do? How convenient!” Saera chimed.

Harriet nodded. “There's a spell for almost everything, Aunt Saera.”

“Yes, but the problem is whether Harriet remembered what spell to use for what.” Daemon chuckled.

“Excuse me!” Harriet smacks Daemon’s chest. 

"Oh my bad, it must be someone else who, instead of lifting the ground beneath her to gain higher ground, launched her enemy to the sky and made quite a mess and gore on the battlefield." Daemon smirks at Harriet.

Harriet smacks Daemon again, “How could you expect me to remember what Ascendare and Ascendio are for in the high of battle?! It's not my fault that the two spells sound alike one another!”

Daemon laughed; he kissed away Harriet’s scowl.

Saera smiled at them, “Well, I guess I worried for nothing; since you two have everything covered, I could return to Volantis with a light heart.”

“Returning so soon?!” Harriet's smile dropped.

"My business can't run on its own, Harry," Saera says, rubbing her thumb over Harriet's cheek. “Besides, disturbing a newlywed honeymoon is considered rude.”

“Very, very rude.” Daemon rolled his eyes.

Harriet smacks Daemon’s hand.

Saera laughed, “So what are you two planning after finishing your Essos tour? If you two still want to settle in Volantis, I could arrange the permanent accommodation.”

“I also could arrange permanent accommodation for the two of you here in Pentos.” Reggio quickly intervened, provoking an annoyed glare from Saera, which caused him to squirm like a trapped mouse.

“About that… Daemon and I decided to extend our tour to Westeros.”

“You do?” Saera raised her eyebrow.

Harriet nodded. “I had promised Lord Celtigar to visit Claw Isle.”

“Worry not, Saera. We will stay away from King’s landing,” Daemon added before Saera could protest.

“You can’t decline the king's summons while you are at his domain, Daemon,” Saera warns him.

“As long as we leave before the official summons arrives, all will be fine.” Daemon shrugged.

Saera barked a laugh, “Sly bastard.”

Daemon hides his smile behind the wine goblet's rim.

“Well, just send me a letter if you two decide to settle down; I will prepare the vacation home I had in Volon Therys.” 

“Will do.” Daemon nodded.

After sending Saera away, Daemon decided to finish his book before they continued their tour to Bravos.

While Daemon works, Harriet decides to enjoy the city to the fullest, either with Reggio Company or the servants; she ends up buying a barrel of Tyroshi pear brandy and a couple rolls of myrish lace at the market after the merchant swears upon their lives for the product's authenticity.

“Maybe Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh would welcome you after you finished your Westeros tour, Harriet.” Reggio said.

“Let’s hope there's no more war that will taint my reputation further.” Harriet sighs.

“Don’t worry about it; I heard the three cities already severed their ties with the pirates; everything will soon be normal,” Reggio smiled. “Talking about the Westeros tour, are you planning to visit Dorne too?”

“Yes, I believe Prince Qoren had sent a formal invitation to Daemon through Davos Dayne.”

Hearing that instantly makes Reggio look uncomfortable.

“What is it?” Harriet asked.

"There's a rumor that Dorne is supporting the Triarchy's blockade at Stepstone to weaken Westeros after learning about the fallout between Daemon and King Viserys," he whispered.

“First of all, you need to tell me how to spot a spy; why are there so many spies?!”

“Information is a vital thing to survive, Harriet.” Reggio laughed.

“I know, but it irks me so badly! Godric’s heart!”

"The safest way to communicate is in Dothraki; only a few people understand that language.”

Harriet gives Reggio a look, which only amuses the prince.

“Promise me you will be careful while you are in Dorne, Harriet. The Martells are well known for their poison.”

"I will; don't worry; Ashai and YiTi teach me a lot about maintaining my constant vigilance."

“I heard about YiTi, but what happened in Ashai?”

Harriet grimaces, “Let's not talk about it.”

“That bad?”

Harriet scrunched her nose. "Let's just say Daemon and I swore never to set foot in that city again." She gave Reggio a wry smile.

How could she possibly tell the man that those fire-worshipping lunatics almost sacrificed her to R'hllor?

“Overly religious people are always bad news—the R'hllor, the seven, the House of Undying, the faceless men—”

“Faceless men?”

“The Faceless Men are a religious society of assassins who worship the Many-Faced God, a god of death.” Reggio answers in a whisper.

A chill suddenly ran down Harriet's back. Her previous conversation with Phra Thammarat, the elder Warlock of House of Undying, back then at Qarth, replayed in her head.

Reggio was right—very bad news indeed.

Harriet finds Daemon still working on his book when she returns from her shopping trip. She quietly tells the servants to put away all the things she brought near her magical trunk for later storage.

Some servants caught awe-struck glances while performing their duties. It's unclear whether this was due to the self-writing pen, Daemon, or possibly both, as both are equally captivating.

Once the servants had properly put away everything, Harriet headed to her favorite sitting spot near the big window, which overlooked the city of Pentos. Good books, fresh air, and Daemon’s alluring voice were always the perfect combination to spend the evening.

At some point, Harriet put down her book and just stared at Daemon’s back. It's amusing to recall that during her darkest moments, Harriet believed Voldemort, in his final breath, had cursed her love life to be eternally doomed.

Wait... didn't she literally need to die first and move to another realm in order to meet the only man who ever loved her in a romantic, unconditional way?

Did Voldemort truly curse her?!

That damn noseless snake!

Harriet continued to curse Voldemort under her breath for a while, until Daemon put away the self-writing fountain pen and said, "Quite the shopping you had there, darling."

“We could always hunt for another Lannister’s shipwreck if we run out of money.” Harriet kisses Daemon’s cheek. “How’s your book?”

“We are not going to hunt another shipwreck, and we aren't going to run out of money anytime soon. Did you forget the pirate treasure we found at Stepstone?” Daemon gave her a stern look. "And as for the book, it's almost finished; just a few more chapters."

“Few more chapters? Look how thick it is already. Did you intend to make it a murder tool?” Harriet snickered. "One definitely drops dead if your book falls on their head, Daemon."

“You—” Daemon grabs Harriet and begins to tickle her side. “—Dare to make fun of my book?!”

“Daemon!!” Harriet shrieked before bursting into a fit of giggles.

He kept tickling her, saying, "What an insolent wife I have."

“I yield! I yield!” Harriet wheezed between her laughter.

Daemon finally stops his advance and stares deeply into Harriet's green eyes. “Did I say that I love you today?”

"Yes, you do, but I don't mind another reminder." She grinned.

Daemon laughed before dipping his head down to claim Harriet's lips in a breathtaking kiss.

“I love you.” Daemon murmured on her lips before giving her another kiss.

Harriet loves Daemon, and the feelings sometimes frighten her. 

She had never experienced such intense romantic love before.

It frightens her because she is fully aware of how dangerous love is. Not only is love the hardest and strongest kind of magic, but love also can make people do unimaginable things; love makes Merope Gaunt douse Tom Riddle with Amoretia, love makes Lily Potter sacrifice her life to protect her only daughter from a killing curse, and love even makes Harriet lose control and burn hundreds of Triarchy Pirates for hurting Daemon.

Love is a perilous thing.

She fervently hopes that the day will never come when Daemon wakes up and declares his desire to become king, as he has no interest in the Seven Kingdoms. She makes sure Daemon sits on that ugly chair with a crown shining above his head, no matter what it costs.

It's not as if Harriet aspires to be queen, handling politics and dealing with all the spies in the Red Keep; her primary goal is to make her husband happy.

Chapter Text

Daemon.

Daemon would lie to himself if he said he wasn't disappointed at first when Harriet told him that she wished to not have children before they finished their Essos tour.

He felt disappointed because he always longed to have family of his own; he had envied Viserys and his small family for years now; he had also deprived himself of being a father in order to annul his miserable first marriage for almost two decades.

Daemon is disappointed, yet the emotion didn’t linger; the turmoil passed as Harriet, with a tender hug, thanked him for his understanding, then started to explain the reason behind her decision.

It turns out that a witch experiences extreme vulnerability during a pregnancy. Their magic tends to be lashing out and unstable; there will be much accidental magic that Daemon needs to prepare himself since he is incapable of dispelling any magic in case Harriet loses control of her magic. Not only that, some witches are more likely to exhaust themselves during the pregnancy due to having their magical core latched on.

Hearing all of it makes Daemon silently plan the things he should do and prepare for when Harriet is ready to conceive.

“One time Hermione was so mad, she literally lit Ron’s head.” Harriet snickered.

Daemon's eyes widened, and his hand went immediately to touch his head.

Harriet laughed, "Daemon, you need not be concerned; I am fond of your hair and would never subject you to such treatment."

“That…reassuring…” Daemon grimace.

Harriet laughed; she then continued to tell several other stories about her friends during their pregnancy and the children, some quite alarming, some just outright funny.

Braavos.

Harriet stared at The Titan of Braavos in awe. 

It's a massive statue of granite and bronze in the shape of a warrior. It acts as a fortress and lighthouse guarding the entrance into the lagoon where the Free City of Braavos is located, the primary line of defense for Braavos.

“So whenever Braavos stood in danger, the Titan would wake with fire in his eyes, his rocky limbs grinding and groaning as he waded out into the sea to smash the enemies?” Harriet asked without averting her glance from the gigantic statue.

“According to legend.” Daemon answered.

"Are you certain there's no wizard like me in this world?"

“There's no one like you, Harry. Many Valyrians back then possess magical abilities, yet the majority only dabble in blood magic or manipulate elements. The most famous sorcerer in history is Water Wizards, who helped Rhoynish Prince Garin the Great against the Valyrian freehold. Why, you ask?”

“Because the tale seems familiar, there's one spell to bring inanimate objects to life. It's called Piertotum Locomotor . My transfiguration professor used the charm to animate the Hogwarts suits of armour and statues to fight in the final battle of the Second Wizarding War, ” she explained while twirling her wand.

“Don’t.” Daemon warned, afraid Harriet will do something stupid, because if there's something more dangerous than her magic is her intrusive thoughts.

“I won’t!” Harriet laughed, “There’s so many innocent people inside that statue; they will likely be squashed if it starts to move.”

Daemon sighs in relief. 

The Titan let out a roar to warn Braavos Arsenal as a ship approaches its entrance. The Titan's terrible groaning and grinding blast drowns out most nearby sounds and reverberates across the city's lagoon.

People claim that the Titan's roar not only heralds sunrise and sunset but also counts the hours of the day.

“Good Gods! How could Braavosi rest with that terrible roar all day long?” Daemon grimace.

Harriet pulls out a white fluffy earmuff from her bag. “Use this.”

“What else did you store in that bag of yours? A battle elephant?” He snorted.

Harriet laughed as she smacked Daemon’s arm. "You are well aware that nothing alive could be put inside this bag!"

The two of them then walk through the market hand in hand, browsing all the goods, returning greetings from all Westerosi merchants who recognize them, buying some sweets, and doing other mundane things around the city.

“ Prince Daemon Targaryen! ” Called someone in high Valyrian.

“ Yes? ” Daemon answered.

“ My name is Maran Sanatis; I'm one of the curators at the library of Braavos. ” The man introduced himself politely before grabbing Daemon's hands and shaking them excitedly. “Your book is a work of art! I had never seen such an unbiased, detailed, and well-written history before.” 

“…Thank you.” Daemon gave an awkward response; he used to be praised for his swordsmanship, for his title, for his look, but for his book? It's a completely new experience for him.

The curator then invited them to the city library for quick book discussion sessions. Daemon was about to refuse, but Harriet didn’t let him; his darling wife happily accepted the invitation, leaving him no room to argue.

“It's called building exposure.” Harriet told him.

“My book was exposed just fine.” Daemon rolled his eyes, Harriet's copying spell had helped him send his book to all major libraries in Essos, Citadel, and Royal Library.

When they arrived, the curator quickly gathered his colleagues and opened the discussion session regarding his book and the source materials.

The volume of questions initially overwhelmed Daemon, but he quickly gained composure and was able to answer the questions more easily.

Sensing how much time had passed, Daemon glanced around, searching for Harriet, worried his wife was getting bored or worse, annoyed by the interruption of their trip. However, it didn't seem to bother her at all. He saw her happily chatting with other library visitors, proudly introducing Daemon’s book to everyone that was willing to hear, and ended up drawing more people into the open discussion.

“I never saw you that overwhelmed before, not even when we were surrounded by an angry horde of Dothraki.” Harriet snickered as she took off her boots once they returned to their lodge.

“It's a...new experience for me.” Daemon confessed while unbuttoning his doublet.

“Did you enjoy it?” Harriet craned her neck a little bit before placing a gentle peck on his lips.

She pulled back slowly, but Daemon used his other hand to grab her chin and pull her forward again for yet another kiss. “I am, thanks to you, dearest.” He murmured, This one kiss is less innocent and more needy. One peck was never enough for him; he always wanted more, and she never denied him. She did not complain, and instead, she smiled as she returned the action, savoring the taste of his lips that she would have to live without for a while.

Their eyes had closed for a moment, both melting into the moment until the need for air became too great to ignore. They pulled back just a tad, and Harriet kept that smile upon her lips, her eyes not hiding the feelings that kept blooming when it came to him.

Daemon then moved his lips towards the edge of her jaw and the beginning of her neck, gently placing kisses against her skin. He did not leave any marks this time, but he still took personal pleasure in attacking her neck, with her even passively pushing him to continue.

She closed her eyes and willingly moved her head more to the side, not stopping him as she felt herself shivering when his lips reached too close to her sensitive spot while one hand had remained wrapped around her waist, keeping her pressed against him. She wasn't sure how long she could stand there before the teasing made her legs weak, or before one of them lost control and flung the other onto the bed.

A knock on the door made them groan, especially Daemon; his annoyance was clearly expressed.

“Daemon,” she reminded him.

Daemon did not respond, as he was busy inhaling her scent and not willing to let her go anytime soon.

Yet, the knocking on the door continued to the point that Daemon let out another growl of annoyance, “Someone better be dying.” Daemon scowled as he went to the door.

When he opened the door, Daemon was stunned upon seeing the unexpected visitor. “…Rhaenys?”

“Apparently the rumors about Rogue Prince and his witch wife sighted in Braavos were true.” Rhaenys smiled, “Long time no see, cousin.”

“Aren’t you quite away from home?” He asked as he invited Rhaenys to come in.

“I'm here to visit my daughter; she is due to give birth soon.” Rhaenys explains.

“Ah, right! Your girl is married to Sea Lord Zalyne’s son.”

Rhaenys nodded, then she signalled Daemon to introduce Harriet to her.

“Cousin, let me introduce you to my wife, Lady Harriet Targaryen.”

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes disapprovingly at Daemon, and he fully understood why. Harriet was not supposed to have the royal name, however Daemon didn't care; Harriet is his equal and will carry his name as their children will.

Rhaenys shook her head disapprovingly at him before changing her demeanor and using her ‘proper’ smile to greet Harriet. “We meet at last, Lady Harriet. My husband tells me a lot about you.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Princess Rhaenys. I hope Lord Corlys didn’t tell you any embarrassing story of mine.” Harriet smiled, 

The corner of Rhaenys’ lips twitched, she looked all pleased with Harriet's manner and the way she addressed her correctly as a princess, not Lady Velaryon. “Worry not. My husband only ever sings praise about you.”

“I believe Lord Corlys is in good health?” Harriet asked.

“My Lord Husband is well, away from the court, apparently good for his health.”

Daemon head snapped at Rhaenys, “Corlys giving up his seat as Master of Ship?”

"Yes, he admitted to me that he had no energy to keep up with our king and his lord's hand." Rhaenys chuckle. "Also, with Princess Rhaenyra and Laenor no longer residing at The Red Keep, my husband and I really had no reason to stay at King’s Landing.”

“Princess Rhaenyra and Sir Laenor left the capital too? Does that mean the towers are fully in control now?” Harriet asked in surprise.

Rahenys nodded gravely, “Unfortunately yes.”

“Is that wise?” 

“The Hightower can’t do much damage as long as Viserys is alive and Rhaenyra is the heir; the worst thing they can do is change all Targaryen’s dragon ornaments in the Red Keep into their ugly seven pointed stars.” Daemon laughed. 

Rhaenys nods, “You don’t have to worry, Lady Harriet, and before I forget, I want to thank you for your contribution in the War of Stepstone; your aid has saved many good men’s lifes, allowing them to reunite with their families.”

“You didn’t have to thank me, my lady; it's all Daemon’s effort; I just tag along to make sure he’s safe.”

“Such humility; you should learn from your wife, Daemon.”

Once again, Daemon rolled his eyes at Rhaenys.

“Stop rolling your eyes; it's unbecoming; you’re a prince, so act like one.” She scolded him.

Daemon let out an annoyed groan, while Harriet snickered.

Rhaenys shook her head disapprovingly. "Let's just cut the case; the real reason I'm here is to invite both of you to have dinner in three days' time at my residence."

“Can we decline the invitation?” Daemon asked which gained glare from Rhaenys.

Harriet quickly smacked Daemon’s arm. “We will be there, Princess. Thank you for the invitation,” she told the proud woman.

Rhaenys’ expression softened. “I’ll be waiting; good eve, Daemon, Lady Harriet.”

“Good eve, Princess Rhaenys.”

“You think my new Myrish dress is suitable for dinner with the Dragon Princess?” Harriet asked when Rhaenys was out of the earshot.

“I told you you are only allowed to wear that in front of me and no one else!” Daemon answered while closing the door.

“Possessive husband.” Harriet chuckled.

The dinner was lavish, as expected from someone who bore both Targaryen and Velaryon names.

The other guests that present were Sea Lord Zalyne, his wife, his son who married Laena Velaryon, Rhaenys and two Braavosi noble ladies.

“I heard about your book.” Rhaenys opens the conversation, “I must say I’m impressed.”

“You ‘must’ say?” Daemon raised his eyebrow.

“What do you want me to say, Daemon, that I am proud of you?” She sneered.

Daemon scoffed, “You don’t have to, cousin; everyone knows that, Impressing the Great Rhaenys Targaryen is the truest achievement man could ever ask for.” He bites back.

Rhaenys glared at him, clearly disapproving of the comment, while Daemon simply glared back in response.

Harriet ducked her head and stifled snickers behind the rim of her silver chalice while The other guests exchange uncertain glances.

Yet as if deaf to the tense situation, Laena Velaryon spoke, “A prince, a dragon rider, a warrior, and also a scholar? Is there anything you couldn’t do, my prince?” The girl inquires, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Unfortunately, I am still yet unable to locate the fountain of youth, my lady." He jested.

Hearing that, the entire table burst into laughter, and lifted the mood.

Many guests inquired more about Daemon's book, while others inquired about War Stepstone, just a general, light conversation.

“Lady Harriet, may I ask something?” Laena Velaryon asked out of blue.

“Please do, Lady Laena.” Harriet answered politely.

“I'm sorry, but did you happen to have difficulty conceiving, my lady?”

The question startled Daemon as it did everyone else in the dining room, and the initial cheerful mood went straight out the window.

Daemon almost stood up and choked the life out of the silly girl but Harriet placed her hand on his thigh to stop him, “No I am not, why do you ask, lady Laena?” 

“Well—if I am not wrong, it's almost a year since your wedding at Stepstone, and you still show no sign of pregnancy. It worries me deeply, my lady.” Laena said in mock worry.

Daemon’s temple twitches, he glares at Rhaenys, silently demanding her to control her pregnant daughter.

“Laena…” Rhaenys warns her daughter.

"It’s fine Princess Rhaenys, I am truly flattered to have a lady laena worrying about my well-being; however, you no need to; I assure you I am perfectly healthy and ready to conceive anytime.” Harriet answers lightly, keeping an air of nonchalance around her.

Daemon, Rhaenys, and other guests thought the conversation would end just like that, but oh, how wrong they are.

“Oh? Then why are you not with a child already?” Laena pushed once more with a fake worried look on her face. Daemon didn’t miss the sinister glint in her eyes. “You can confide in me about anything, my lady; maybe I could help.” She said this while proudly stroking her pregnant belly.

“Laena, enough.” Rhaenys sternly warns her daughter.

Laena looks at her mother with a fake gullible expression. “Why mother? I only wish to help Lady Harriet.” Laena asked sweetly.

Daemon winced as he saw Harriet's emerald eyes twinkling, promising trouble.

“Since Lady asks so nicely, I will be blunt—” With a very charming grin, Harriet lowered her calice and said, "First and foremost, my dear lady Laena, it is not your fucking business."

Daemon faked a cough to mask his snort as other guests' collective gasps filled the room.

“—Secondly, my husband chose to marry me, not my uterus. If he marries only to have an heir, he would marry a broodmare—” Harriet stares scornfully at Laena, “—Someone like you.”

“How dare you!” Laena yells; her face scarlet with fury and embarrassment, “I will feed you to Vhagar! You vile Wildling!” her tear filled eyes glaring dagger at Harriet, who just scoffed deviantly upon the empty threat with an arm folded in front of her chest. 

Daemon must admit that calling Laena broodmare out loud was unnecessary and a bit cruel for a pregnant woman, but he wouldn’t complain, the foolish girl deserved all the humiliation for daring to insult his wife.

“If you forget, my wife is the last speaker of old Valyria; no dragon will harm her; even if they do, she’s unburned no fire could harm my wife.” Daemon reminded the silly girl.

Laena gaped like a fish out of water; all she has is her dragon, and knowing that it holds no effect on Harriet clearly makes her feel extremely powerless.

Rhaenys appears conflicted; she fully understood that her daughter was the one who brought the humiliation to herself, yet her pride refused to allow her to suffer such open humiliation.

Daemon exhaled deeply as he saw Rhaenys keep quiet and do nothing. He stood up and offered his hand to Harriet. "Looks like it's time for us to leave. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Cousin.”

Harriet took Daemon’s hand and said, “Thank you for inviting us, Princess Rhaenys, Sealord Zalyne, young Sealord, Lords, and Ladies.” With a sweet smile, she purposefully avoided mentioning Laena as she wrapped her arm around Daemon's elbow and left.

“If she was not pregnant, I would have already transfigured her into a pig!” Harriet angrily tosses herself onto the bed.

“As much as I like to see it, if you did that, we would likely start a war with the Velaryon and Sealord of Braavos.” Daemon chuckled as he laid beside her.

Harriet laid her head upon Daemon's chest and huffed, “I should be more patient with that stupid girl.”

“You should, but that doesn’t change the fact that she deserved it.” Daemon stroked her back slowly.

“I could easily ignore all her insults if only she was not trying desperately to flirt with you.”

“She does?” Daemon asked in surprise.

“She has been continuously batting her eyelashes and attempting to woo you since the beginning of the feast.”

“Truly? I didn’t even notice that.”

“She does! You don’t know how much I want to pluck her eyelashes one by one.” Harriet huffed as she snuggled closer to Daemon.

Daemon laughed as he kissed the top of Harriet's head. “You shouldn’t be jealous of that stupid girl.”

“I'm not jealous of that girl; I'm annoyed with her.” 

“Yes, yes—not jealous at all,” Daemon chuckled.

“I still can’t believe your brother allowed Laena to claim Vhagar and even brought her here to Braavos; I bet old king Jaehaerys is rolling on his grave right now.”

Daemon laughed, “If he could, I bet the old king will crawl from hell and behead Viserys himself.”

“Aren’t that a bit too extreme?”

“Nothing too extreme for the old king; did you forget he was the one who slain Saera’s lover, Ser Beesbury, with Blackfyre in trial by combat? He was around nine and forty, while Ser Beesbury, the stinger they called him, was nine and ten at the time.”

“Bloody hell! A fifty-year-old man wins against a young and healthy knight in combat? He even uses Blackfyre!?”

"I told you the old king is ruthless; people deemed his reign peaceful because they knew better than to mess with the old king." Daemon hummed, “Why do you think I let myself be wed to that Bronze bitch? You think I'm not capable of running away with Caraxes?”

“That explains a lot of things.”

Daemon hummed.

Chapter Text

$I met with the Old dragon$ Caraxes spoke while Harriet examined his scale for any signs of parasites or illness.

$Who? Vhagar?$ 

$Yes, she more grumpy that usual$

$more grumpy than usual? why?$ 

$She hate being here, no quiet place to sleep$

$Really? you should bring her here then, the lair is big enough even for her, I also believe the soundproof charm will last for another years$

$why would I?$ Caraxes ask haughtily.

$Pardon?$ Harriet blinked in disbelief.

$You made this lair for me, Its mine$

$But you are not going to use this lair anymore! We are going to leave tomorrow!$

$Dragon did not share$ 

$Vhagar is your kin!$ Harriet insisted.

$Dragon did not share$ Caraxes repeat with finality.

Harriet rolled her eyes, This red overgrown baby is impossible.

Lorath.

Harriet found the Lorathi to be unique and slightly unsettling, as their denial of self led to their followers using indefinite pronouns to refer to themselves and others.

They did not use names and referred to themselves as 'a man' and 'a woman' instead of saying 'I', 'me', or even 'mine.' Which confuses the hell out of Harriet.

Daemon also informs her that three princes once ruled Lorath: the Harvest Prince, the Fisher Prince, and the Prince of the Streets.

These princes, once chosen, served for life. Those who own land on the islands choose the Harvest Prince, those who own ships choose the Fisher Prince, and the free men of the city choose the Prince of the Streets.

While the council of princes still exists today, their titles have become ceremonial. Lorath's actual rule now resides with a council of magisters composed of nobles, priests, and merchants.

Nothing much to see in Lorath nor Harriet interested in buying any salt cod, walrus tusks, sealskins, or whale oil.

She and Daemon end up just spending two days there before continuing their journey to Norvos.

Norvos

Harriet awoken by a kiss.

The sun barely rose, and she was still exhausted after spending the whole day enjoying a festival in Norvos yesterday, where for the first time in her life she watched bears dancing their way down a flight of stairs! They’re so adorable and talented.

Her body was demanding more sleep, yet the possessive nature of the kiss Daemon gave her was igniting something inside her, filling her with fire and passion. It was all teeth and tongue, causing her body to arch against his. She twisted her fingers in his hair, holding him close as she kissed him back with the same ferocity.

His mouth still tastes like wintercakes they just ate at the festival, “Daemon—” She licks his lips. “The bell has not yet rung; we are not permitted to have carnal relations.” She reminded him playfully, unable to stop herself from teasing her husband ever since she learned about the absurd rule that all Norvoshi needed to abide by.

Norvos's three bells, Noom, Narrah, and Nyel, govern every aspect of the lives of those in the city. The bells instruct the Norvoshi on when to rise, sleep, work, rest, take arms, pray, and even when they can engage in carnal relations.

“Fuck that fucking bell!” Daemon growled as he flipped her onto her back.

Harriet squeals gleefully, “You need to respect the local culture!”

Daemon ignored her; he climbed on top of her and began to kiss her neck. His hands moved all over her body, making sure she was ready before he entered her. 

“You will get us in trouble!” She laughs, 

“You better stop mentioning those damned bells, my love.” He withdrew a bit before unceremoniously pushing himself as far and deep inside her in one huge thrust of his waist that knocked the breath out of Harriet, “Before I melt that blasted thing.” He did it a few more times, leaving Harriet breathless.

Pleasure overwhelmed her, causing her to cup his face and kiss him. Her tongue delved into his mouth as his movements grew harder and rougher, drawing moans out of her. She whimpered, her muscles growing tighter as that wonderful feeling seemed to envelop her. 

“That is it, Harry.” Daemon nipped her bottom lip as his wonderful fingers found her pearl, circling it and applying pressure. “Come for me, my love.”

She felt her body tighten around his cock, sucking him deeper as his movements became erratic. Their release came at the same time, leaving them shaking and breathless. 

“I want you to know—” Harriet stares at Daemon’s violet eye, making the man raise his eyebrow. “If the Norvoshi come to arrest us, it's all your fault.”

Daemon groaned with annoyance, rolling to his side and turning his back on her. Still laughing, Harriet hugs Daemon from behind, but Daemon wriggled away from her.

Harriet narrowed her eyes. She tried again to hug him, and like before, Daemon once more wriggled away from her.

Harriet gasped in disbelief before pulling Daemon, who lay on his back and immediately straddled his waist, preventing him from escaping. "Why are you avoiding me?!”

"I can't allow you to embrace me; we must wait until your bloody bells ring." He scoffed.

Harriet's jaw dropped. “You petty man!” 

“Two can play the game, darling.” He reminded her with a huge smirk on his handsome face.

"What kind of place is Qohor?" Harriet inquired, while packing their stuff into one trunk.

"Qohor said to be the most exotic of the Free Cities. There’s many Westerosi there; our merchants chose the city over Tyrosh in the south due to its strategic location and stability. Many rats from Citadel also flocked to Qohor in search of the higher mysteries.” Daemon answer.

“Higher Mysteries?”

"Citadel rat is a fancy way to say magic."

“Oh? I thought they were all magic-hating muggles like Otto.”

"Apparently, there are two types of maesters; one is captivated by magic and eager to learn about it, while the other, similar to Otto, believes that magic is an anomaly that must be eliminated." Daemon explains.

“Aren’t you quite well informed for someone who claims to loathe the Maester?”

“It’s important to know your enemy, dearest.” He gives her a dark smirk.

Harriet shook her head in amusement.

Daemon continue to skim through their letters that just came this morning. He throw two letter to fireplace without second thought.

“From King Viserys and Archmaester Vaegon again?”

“Yes,” Daemon huffed in annoyance,

“It’s not a bad things you know.”

Daemon raised his eyebrow at her.

“I mean to let Archmaester Vaegon to translate your book to common tongue.” she explain.

Daemon shake his head, “No, I wouldn't allow those rats to tamper with my book, and I believe that Valyria's history should only be written in high Valyrian.”

“I don’t think Vaegon would tamper with your book. He's also a descendant of old Valyria, isn't he? I don’t think he would dishonor his own history.”

Daemon begun to tap his forefinger on the table.

“you can always check the translation manuscript and if it not meet your satisfaction we could always get rid of it.”

Daemon bark a laugh, “You wish to start a war with the Citadel?”

Harriet shugged deviantly at him. “You always want to burn down the Old Town,”

Daemon blinks several times at Harriet before bursts out laughing, “Who are you? Where do you hide my pure-hearted darling wife?”

Harper rolled her eyes. “That woman married a rogue prince.” 

“Ha! So its my fault now? Turning My sweet wife became a rogue Encantress?” He asked.

“Yep.” Harriet answer with loud popping sound.

Qohor.

Harriet can’t believe this happening again!

Caraxes had warned her about the city's putrid smell.

Her own guts had warned her when she first laid her eyes on the statue of Qohor's Black Sheep; she should be aware that it's not just an ordinary statue that people bathed in the blood of animal sacrifice; she should know there's something sinister about it!

Hell, even the Elder Wand buzzed alarmingly to warn her.

Despite all of the warning, a group of muggles still manage to kidnap her and tie her to a stone altar for the second time.

Merlin’s bloody knuckle!

Harriet took a deep breath to calm herself before looking around the room.

Nothing seemed amiss, except for the bloody stone altar, unlike the creepy red-painted room with a huge burning brazier in Asshai when R'hllor maniacs kidnapped her.

“ Emancipare .” Harriet whispers the binding relashing charm wandlessly, hoping it would work with muggle-made ropes.

After the third try, she could feel the knot become loose, but not loose enough for her to slip by.

“Come on… Emancipare, ” she tried again.

The knot was finally loose enough, but before she could yank her limb free, the door swung open, and five hooded muggles with blue lips made their entrance and began to bicker among themselves.

“ We need to release her; the dragon prince threatens to burn the entire city!”

“He wouldn’t risk burning her alongside the city!”

“She is unburn you fool! No fire could harm her!”

"The magistrate has already dispatched his soldier to search the city!"

“We can’t let her live!”

“We need her alive! And keep her here to feed our magic! Her presence makes our magic stronger!”

“Not strong enough to subdue the dragon prince!”

“This is a lost cause!”

“ Better hurry and make up your mind; my husband is not known for his empty threats. ” Harriet spoke lazily as she sat cross-legged on the stone altar.

The kidnappers gasped in shock; some tried to leave the room, but Harriet had locked the door and made sure no one escaped before Daemon arrived.

Daemon is close; she can feel it; she just needs to stall. "I must say, for a mere human who borrowed magic from the devil, you all had nerve."

“How?!”

"I recognize that black goat of yours—the devil—is well known for his love of trading magic abilities with human souls." Harriet sighs, “ What he gave you is not real magic. You have been tricked.”

“You don't know what you're talking about!”

“Oh, really?” Harriet swished the Elder wand, transfigured one kidnapper into chicken, made the other one leg wobbly with Locomotor Wibbly , tied one with Incarcerous , and grew antlers on one man's head with Anteoculatia. "That's the real magic," she said smugly.

" My leg! " exclaims the victim of Locomotor Wibbly.

"Thoros!" yells the one with the antler at the chicken, who starts clucking in panic.

Harriet reveled in the chaos when she sensed Daemon's presence.

The last hooded man quickly fell to his knee, “ I beg your forgiveness! ” He wailed desperately.

Harriet cringes. “Honestly, I have no ill feeling towards all of you. The kidnapping was my own fault. However—” she swishes her wand to open the door. “—I cannot talk for my husband—”

Deamon barges into the room with a sword in hand and eyes wild with fury.

“—He always thinks killing the problem is better than settling things civilly.”

Without a single word, Daemon began to hack and slashed Harriet’s kidnappers one by one till no one left alive, not even the one that turned into a chicken.

Harriet winced wryly at Daemon, “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect they would use sedatives.”

Daemon put away the Dark Sister before cupping both Harriet’s cheeks with his blood-stained hands; his expression was unreadable.

“I’m fine, Daemon; they are not R’hollor followers.”

Daemon softly brushes his thumb over her cheekbones, "I thought I lost you, Harry." His voice was shaking with fear.

“I'm right here, Daemon.”

“I—I cannot lose you.”

“You won’t.” Harriet assured him, “And even if you grow bored of me, I'll make sure you will not be able to get rid of me.” She smiled.

Hearing that, Daemon huffed a laugh before he rested his forehead upon her.

“All is fine.” Harriet reassured him again.

“All is fine.” He agreed.

“We need to make a statement.” Its all Daemon said when Harriet ask what he wants to do with the four severed heads of her kidnappers in the sack that he carry.

Harriet didn’t ask further, she just dutifully followed Daemon to the town square and when enough curious people gathered around them, he open the sack and disposed its contents upon the dirty cobble stone.

People instantly start gasping and shrieking in horror upon seeing dozen bloody depcitated head with bright blue lips rolling in all directions.

“Let be known!” Daemon stomp one head crushed it with eerie crunch splattered his boots with mixture of blood and brain, which make Harriet grimance, “Fire and Blood would come to everyone who tried to harm my family!” He shout.

$ I have warn you! $ the blood wyrm roared on the sky above which make People quickly duck their head in fear. While Harriet bit her inner cheek and try her best to not laughing out loud.

Chapter Text

Claw Isle.

Daemon.

“You are early!” On a cliff near his castle, Alton Celtigar greets them.

“Yes, sorry for your inconvenience and for not being able to inform you ahead, Alton, but we had a bit of a'situation’ in Qohor.” Daemon answers while helping Harriet climb down from Caraxes’ saddle.

“What happened?” Alton asked curiously.

“I got kidnapped... again.” Harriet announced it proudly, with a huge grin on her face.

“Excuse me?! AGAIN?!”

“That is not an achievement, Harry!” Daemon scolds her.

Harriet sticks out her tongue at him before running toward Caraxes.

“Lady Harriet was not joking?!”

Daemon sighs, “No, she actually got kidnapped twice already, once in Asshai at the beginning of our journey, and the latest is three days ago in Qohor.”

“Gods be good! Why?”

Daemon watched Harriet hiss fondly at Caraxes as she hugged his snout. “It’s complicated.” He chose to remain ambiguous; he cannot divulge the possibility of Harriet's magic being exploited, nor can the R'hllor impose a bounty on her head, as their adversaries could exploit this information to their advantage.

“Did the Hightower—?”

Daemon shakes his head. “No, the perpetrator, not the Hightower.”

Alton let out a relieved breath. “I thought we were about to go to war once more.” 

“As much as I want to burn Old Town like Queen Visenya’s always wanted. I don't want to instigate another war in the realm, especially considering that my brother and his Hand have raised taxes twice within a six-month period."

Alton's eyes widened in surprise.

“People talk about it, Alton, even across the sea.” Daemon explained.

Alton sighs, “Otto became more bold, ever since Princess Rhaenyra, Coryls, and Lyonel left the council.”

“Lyonel left?” Daemon frowned.

“Yes, apparently even a loyal man like Lyonel Strong could grow sick of your brother's dismissive habits. Tyland Lannister and Jasper Wylde became their respective replacements.” Alton informed him, 

Daemon closed his eyes. That fool! Did he not learn anything these past years?

“I'm sorry, but Your brother is walking to the path of ruin, Daemon.” 

Daemon clenched his jaw.

“He refused to name Aegon as his new heir, but he allowed Hightower to take full control of the realm. I wouldn't be surprised if Aegon ended up usurping Rhaenyra when Viserys died.

“What with the sour mood?” Harriet questioned her as she walked towards them.

“My brother…” Daemon exhaled deeply.

"What stupid things did he do this time?" Harriet asked bluntly, which caused Alton to choke miserably on his attempt to not burst laughing.

“Dearest, we are no longer at Essos.” Daemon reminded her gently.

“Oh— Right… I better badmouth him in Valyrian then. ” She cheekily switched to High Valyrian.

Daemon shook his head while Alton wheezed for air, “Please spare me, my lady.” He wiped tears from the corner of his eyes.

Harriet grinned at the man. "Oh, by the way, Alton, I have a request for you. Could you arrange to bring ten pigs to Caraxes' lair every Sennight? When she returned to their side, Harriet made the request.

“Ten pigs every Sennight? Would that be enough for a dragon as large as him?”

"Oh, you don't need to worry; the pig is like a treat for Caraxes; for his daily meal, he will just hunt fish around here; he recently grew fond of whales after fighting a leviathan in Lorath."

Alton's eyes grew comically large. “Caraxes fought a Leviathan?!”

“Yes, he managed to bite a chunk of the enormous white whale flesh before its retreat to the deep ocean.” Daemon answered proudly.

Alton’s jaw dropped in shock.

Daemon massaged his temple as he exhaled deeply. He knew his family situation was currently not great, but to this extent? “A bastard?” He asks in disbelief.

"It's not yet certain; Daemon, Prince Jacaerys, may inherit his dark hair from his grandmother, Princess Rhaenys."

"That doesn't explain the prince's brown eyes; everyone who's seen the prince knows he appears far too aloof to pass for Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor's son." Bartimos Celtigar, Alton's nephew and heir, said so.

Alton quickly shushed Bartimos.

“We both had dark-haired wives, and our children were still looking Valyrian, uncle.” Bartimos insisted.

“Then that means we are blessed!” Alton glared at his heir, 

“Who?” Daemon is too tired to ask.

“The rumored man who sired the prince?” In a whisper, Bartimos asks.

Daemon nodded.

Bartimos glances at the door, makes sure it's completely closed, then whispers, “Ser Harwin Strong, Princess’s sworn shield.”

Daemon shut his eyes. “I am surrounded by idiots.” He grumbled.

Can't Rhaenyra at least choose a paramour who has the same coloring as Laenor? Why is she so reckless and irresponsible? Seven Hell!

“Let's not talk about this topic ever again; what else do I need to know?”

“The king had caught wind of your returning to Westeros, My Prince, but he still doesn’t know where you currently reside.” Bartimos answer.

"You think your brother would send a royal summons once he knew you were here?"

“There's no doubt about it.” Daemon sips his wine.

“I think you should accept the summons and return to King's Landing, my prince.” Bartimos said.

“No, my presence in King's Landing wouldn't make any difference, Bartimos; as long as the Hightowers were still whispering in my brother's ears, he wouldn't hear any reason, even from me, his blood." Daemon explained. “I also may end up getting flogged or losing my hand for punching the king.” He scoffed.

Alton barks a laugh, “Ha! You will definitely do that! There's no doubt about it, considering how infuriating your brother is these days!”

Daemon feigns sleep while three Valyrian brats, none older than ten name days, hover over him.

He heard that the children and Harriet grew close this past week; did they come to search for Harriet? If they do, why don't they leave once they realize Harriet is not in the room?

“I told you Septa Estelle lied to us!” The oldest boy speak up.

“Mmhm, the prince does not look like a monster at all; he’s so handsome.” A girl spoke with a dreamy voice.

“Un! She also mentioned that Lady Harriet is a crone who enjoys devouring children, but since her arrival, she has been nothing but kind to all of us!" The youngest boy said next.

“Lady Harriet told me she doesn’t like children’s meat because beef and pork are tastier!” The girl replied.

Daemon shut his eyes and bit his lip, trying his best not to laugh. 

“We should punish Septa Estelle for lying to us and badmouthing both Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet,” declared the oldest.

The two younger ones agree in unison.

“Without Prince and Lady, our fathers may not return to us unharmed.” The girl replied.

“My lord father said so too! He referred to Prince and Lady Harriet as our saviors." The younger one spoke.

The children began contemplating a plan of how they would ‘deal’ with the lying Septa. After they unanimously agree to dump horses' shit upon Septa Estelle's bed, the little miscreants leave the room.

Once he heard the door click shut, Daemon opened his eyes and muffled his laughter with his pillow. “Gods be good!” Daemon wiped the tears from his eyes. He cannot wait to watch the chaos unfold when the little miscreants carry out their plan to torment their Septa.

Daemon watches the chaos unfold while leaning on the door frame. He can’t decide which one is funnier. 

A septa, covered in horse' shit screaming like a distressed sheep, or three small miscreants hiding behind Harriet's skirt, claiming they had done nothing wrong.

“The three of you admitted that you dumped buckets of Horse’s excrement on Septa Estelle and claimed she deserved it.”

Alton's daughter, Cirilla Celtigar, stepped up. "Yes, father, Septa Estelle deserves every bit of it!” She spoke deviantly.

“We didn’t do anything wrong, Grand Uncle!" Clement Celtigar, Bartimos’ son, spoke up and backed his cousin.

“Septa Estelle deserves it for badmouthing Prince Daemon and Lady Harriet, my lord.” Daeron Velaryon, Alton's ward. Spoke calmly.

The septa's eyes widened, finally grasping the situation.

“Badmouthing Daemon and Harriet?” Alton asked in confusion.

To get all of Alton's attention, the septa quickly moved toward his line of sight. “I—It's fine, my lord; apparently this is all just a big misunderstanding because the young lords and young lady misinterpreted my words.” The septa quickly responded. "Everything is forgiven, my lord; there's no need to punish the children due to a misunderstanding." She said all sweet and demure.

“Just a Misunderstanding?” Daemon chuckled.

All the eyes in the room instantly turned towards Daemon.

Harriet looks at him as if she asks what he is up to, and he responds with a wink.

Septa Estelle nodded furiously and splattered some horse’s shit into the stone floor. “Yes, my prince, I am sure this all is just a huge misunderstanding.” The Septa said desperately.

The little miscreants tried to protest, but Daemon lifted his forefinger slightly to silence them. “If you are that sure, then you surely had no problem telling us what exactly you said to the children that ended up making them misunderstood.”

The Septa went pale and began to shutter, “My—my prince...”

“Go on, tell everyone what you had told the children; let us, the adults, decide if the children truly misinterpreted your words or not.” Daemon smiled cruelly.

The septa gaped like fish out of water, while the little miscreants were giggling happily behind Harriet's skirt.

“Tell the truth or keep your silence forever by joining the silent sister. Choose.” Daemon said coldly.

The desperate septa finally fell onto her knee and started wailing, "Mercy, my prince! I was wrong! Please! Mercy!” 

Just like everyone else in the hall, Harriet looked surprised.

“Tell the truth or lose a tongue, your choice.”

With trembling lips, Septa Estelle began to confess, “I told the young lords and young lady that—” she swallowed hard, “—that you and your wife are bad influences for them.”

People start to gasp in disbelief.

“Because—?” Daemon makes elaborate signs with his hand.

The Septa started crying uglily. 

“Finish your sentence. Estelle, tell us why you think me and my wife were bad influences for the children.”

Between her sobbing Septa, Estelle said, “Because I think you’re an incestuous monster who loves to kill people.”

Alton took a sharp breath; his face was red in a mix of anger and embarrassment.

His wife, standing beside him, pales completely as she stares in disbelief at the septa.

“And your wife is an ungodly woman, a witch who likes to eat children and seduces men with her witchcraft.”

Daemon claps, “There you go; not so difficult to tell the truth, right?”

“Daemon…” Alton looked extremely guilty and ashamed.

Daemon waved his hand nonchalantly, “This is your household, Alton; you can punish Septa Estelle any way you see fit.” He looked at Harriet. “Right, dearest?”

“Yes, I agree.” Harriet answered.

Alton nodded. He signaled to his guard to drag Septa Estelle out of the hall.

When the Septa left, Daemon turned his attention to the three small miscreants, crouching down to their eye level. "Next time, just come directly to me so we can secretly deal with traitors."

“Daemon!” Harriet glared at him.

“What will you do to traitors?” Ask Cirilla.

“Will you feed traitors to your dragon?” Ask Daeron.

“Can we watch?” Clement asks with gleaming eyes.

“No! absolutely not! Nobody is going to be eaten by Caraxes, and the three of you absolutely cannot watch," Harriet interjected.

“Lady Harriet, no fun!” Cirilla stomped her feet.

“Why not just feed Septa Estelle to Caraxes now?” Ask Clement.

“I don’t think Caraxes likes his snack covered in horse shit.” Daeron said.

“True, it would taste awful.” Both Cirilla and Clement made a disgusted face.

Daemon laughed as he ruffled all three little miscreants’ heads.

After spending almost a month in Claw Isle, the formal summoning from Viserys finally arrived. 

The children were extremely distraught upon learning that Daemon and Harriet had to leave. They remained inconsolable until Daemon took the three of them on a flight on Caraxes' back, promising to take them on another flight when he visited again.

“Thank you for your hospitality, my friend.” Daemon told Alton.

“It's nothing; do visit again soon, Daemon, Harriet.”

"We will, because if we don't, Cirilla and Clement will definitely hunt Daemon down." Harriet chuckled.

“Oh yes, those two definitely will.” Alton laughed.

Daemon, take a quick look at the Raven, which has just taken off from the castle's owlery. The raven brought message back to King’s Landing, stating that Daemon and Harriet had already departed from Claw Isle prior to the formal summons arriving. “Time to go,” he said.

Alton nodded. “Please send my regard to Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.”

“We will, till we meet again.”

“Till we meet again.”

Chapter Text

Harriet

Harriet felt like she was walking into a treasure cave when she stepped foot into the Hightide Castle's hall. The castle’s hall is filled with many beautiful gems, statues, weapons, and many beautiful things that are displayed in the hallway. “Is this all the troves you collected from your nine voyages?” She asked curiously at Corlys. 

Corlys looked at Harriet with wide eyes; he looked genuinely surprised. “You know about my nine voyages?!”

Harriet nodded. “I read all Maester Mathis' text about your nine voyages, you know.” 

“Truly?” Corlys looked positively elated.

"Daemon personally recommended the text," Harriet said as she scooted closer to Corlys, in a mock whisper, she said, "Just between you and me, the text of your nine voyages is one of Daemon's favorite texts."

“Lie.” Daemon denied flatly.

"Oh, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Daemon.” Corlys teases him.

Daemon rolled his eyes.

Harriet chuckled as she kissed the faint flush on Daemon’s cheek before she asked Corlys about his most successful and latest voyage, which made House Velaryon the wealthiest family in the Seven Kingdoms.

Corlys narrated how he filled the Sea Snake's hold with gold and bought twenty more ships at Qarth, loading them with spices, elephants, and the finest silk. "Sadly, the elephants died at sea during the return voyage, and only fourteen of the ships reached Driftmark." He said it gravely.

"Yet you end up even richer than the Lannisters or the Hightowers." Harriet retorted.

Corlys’ chest looked puffed out in pride, then his eyes caught on Daemon’s hip. "Talking about the Lannisters, why do you have a sword more suitable for a Lannister than a Targaryen, Daemon?" He posed this question while pointing at the brightroar that was strapped to Daemon's hip.

“Oh, this?” Daemon unsheathed the Brightroar from its scabbard, looking smug. He said, "It looks like Lannister’s sword, because it was once owned by a Lannister, specifically Tommen the second."

When Corlys finally recognized the sword, he gasped in surprise: "It's the Brightroar?" But How?”

"Harriet, pull it from the bottom of the sea.” Daemon answers lightly.

Corlys gaped at Harriet, and she grinned at him.

They exchange more stories of their journey in Essos while waiting for dinner to be served. Harriet told Corlys what happened in YiTi and how they almost became prisoners of Prince JarYi and his rebel forces. 

Corlys then inquires about the rumors that Harriet killed the king of Qarth and destroyed his castle after the king attempted to force himself on her.

“Merlin’s crooked nose!” Harriet gasped in disbelief. “Where did those vile rumors come from?!”

“Merlin’s what?” Corlys asked.

“Merlin is like a God to Harriet.” Daemon explained nonchalantly, “And to answer your question, the rumor is a lie; there's no such thing happening in Qarth.”

“Except Davos Dayne is indeed making moves on me,” Harriet shrugged.

“I swear I will kill that bastard if we meet him again in Dorne.” He spat.

“We can't kill our host, Daemon; it's against the guest’s right.”

Daemon groaned.

“Are you two plants to go to—?” 

“Harry.” Daemon interrupted Corly midsentence, pointing his nose at the servant boy near the door.

Harriet nodded and quickly pulled her wand to ererect a privacy bubble around the three of them. 

“What is this?” Corlys asks in wonder, touching the bubble's surface with his finger.

"Harriet's magic will make people outside this bubble unable to hear our conversation." Daemon explained.

“How ingenious!” Corlys exclaimed.

"Yes, but first, you should choose your servant more carefully." Corlys’ that boy has been listening to our conversation ever since we entered this room and seems to be paying more attention when Dorne was mentioned.”

Corlys’ eyes went wide. Corly turned around to examine the boy, who appeared uncomfortable due to the intense stares he was receiving from the three of them.

“Why Dorne, of all places? It’s not safe there! Did you know that rumors exist about Martell's involvement in the War on Stepstone? Corlys asked.

“We are aware of that rumor." Daemon responded coolly.

“Then why In the Gods’ name you want to go there?!”

“You sound as if Harriet and I would start the Fifth Dornish War.” Daemon chuckled.

“Because it looks exactly like that!” Corlys spat.

“We went there only to accept Prince Qoren Martell’s personal invitation.” Harriet said calmly, “We will be careful; you don’t have to worry, Corlys.”

Corlys look unsatisfied by Harriet’s words, yet before he could object further, the servants arrived with their dinner.

Harriet quickly dispelled the privacy bubble and stirred their conversation away from discussing Dorne. “Corlys, tell me about your grandson, Jacaerys. I heard his dragon egg hatch in the cradle.” 

Corlys, fully aware of Harriet's intention, played along; he happily informed her about his eldest grandson Jacaerys and his dragon Vermax, who had olive-green scale and orange frills.

Everything sounds innocent, but Harriet couldn’t help but find it a bit odd how Corlys keeps emphasizing how much the young prince resembles Rhaenys, especially with his dark hair. Her confusion grew when she saw the strange expression on Daemon's face.

Harriet frowned, Daemon definetly know something that she don’t and hiding it from her. 

”And more importantly! I hope my next grandchild from Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra is to be another boy.” He said it happily.

“Oh?!” Harriet exclaimed instantly, forgetting all questions that swirled inside her head, "Congratulations, Corlys! I'm so happy for you.”

“Congratulations in order, my friend.” Daemon said with strained smile.

Harriet raised her eyebrow at him, and that man quickly avoiding her eyes.

Corlys put his hand upon his heart, “Thank you; I truly can’t wait to train my grandson to be the best sailor worthy of Driftmark’s seat.” He said proudly.

“I am sure you do, Corlys.” Harriet smiled at him, Corlys kind reminded Harriet of Luna when she expressed her eagerness to hunt the Nargles with her sons, Lorcan and Lysander.

Until the end of their stay, Rhaenys still did not make her appearance in Driftmark with the excuse that her presence is needed in Dragonstone.

Daemon were skeptical, emphasizing that Dragonstone and Driftmark were just a short flight away, easily traveled on Dragon's back.

Harriet could only speculate that the dragon princess is still holding grudges against her; she honestly didn’t care if Rhaenys is still holding grudges against her or not; all she wanted to see was her dragon, Meleys the Red Queen.

“Please refrain yourself from starting fifth Dornish war.” Corlys said in serious tone.

Harriet snorted a laugh.

“You think Dorne would still had resource to wage a war with Westeros if they decide to cross the two us?” Daemon chuckled.

Corlys shake his head in amusement, “Send me raven when you arrive at Dorne, and most importantly stay safe.”

“We will.” Harriet promise.

Sunspear-Dorne

$You should start preparing a nest$ Caraxes said to Harriet upon their arrival at the beach near Sunspear.

$Worry not, I won’t miss any spells this time$ Harriet joked.

Caraxes shakes his head, $Not mine, yours$

$Nest for me? What for?$ Harriet asked in confusion.

Caraxes gently rubs his snout against Harriet's stomach. $For the new hatchling$ he answered.

“Excuse me?!” Harriet asked in shock.

“Harry? What's wrong?” Daemon asked.

“It’s nothing!” Harriet spoke to Daemon, then turned back to Caraxes. $You’re wrong! Theres no hatcling, My magic–$

$Magic not absolute; you know that$

Harriet went deadly silent.

Chapter Text

Daemon.

Harriet had been acting strangely since they arrived in Dorne. She was suspiciously quiet and dismissed all Daemon's concerns during their entire ride to the Old Palace in Sunspear, claiming that she was simply tired after a long flight from Driftmark.

Daemon didn't buy her excuses; he knew she was hiding something from him. However, before he could question her intentions, Harriet immediately locked herself inside her magical trunk as soon as they arrived at their room in the Old Palace. She did not even bother to wait for the servants to leave their room before resizing her trunk and going inside it.

Daemon sighs and quickly dismisses the shocked servant.

After spending nearly half a day confined within her trunk, Harriet unexpectedly announced her pregnancy while clutching a vial filled with a swirling golden liquid.

Daemon immediately felt the air knocking out his lung and his head filled with cotton. A wave of disbelief washed over him, quickly followed by a rush of pride and joy. 

His heart raced, an emotion he had never experienced before, surpassing even the joy he felt when his grandfather bestowed Dark Sister upon him.

Thoughts of tiny fingers and the laughter of a child flooded his mind, filling him with warmth. A smile broke across his face as dreams of long-awaited fatherhood began to take shape. 

Yet when he paid attention to Harriet’s demeanor, all his joy slowly morphed into dread. The distraught look on her face and her slumped shoulder really threw him off. “Did you not want this child?” He asked.

Harriet immediately snapped at him: "Why in Merlin's name did you ever think something like that?" She shouted angrily.

Daemon said as he took both Harriet's hands, “I'm sorry, my love.” He apologized before pressing a kiss upon her knuckle. "When I saw you so distraught upon telling me the news, I thought you regretted being pregnant."

Harriet looked surprised at first. "I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her expression gradually softening. "There's so much on my mind—the failed contraceptive spell, our current situation—I didn't even know I was pregnant until Caraxes mentioned it to me!" she said. She squeezed his hand. 

“Caraxes mentioned it to you?” Daemon asked in shock.

“Yes, he heard two sets of heartbeats in me.” Harriet answered.

Daemon finally understood why Harriet acted so weird after they landed on Dorne’s shore. “I understand you’re overwhelmed, but why do you look so distressed, my love?”

Panic returned to Harriet’s green eyes. “We are trapped, Daemon!”

“Trapped how?” He asked softly, thinking Harriet was just hysterical due to feeling overwhelmed.

“Caraxes refused to fly us to Volantis, saying that flying would harm the baby; he also threatened to burn my broom if I tried to fly off with it!”

Daemon blinked in surprise, “He does?”

“He does! I also cannot Disapparate nor use Portkey because those travel methods could harm the baby. There's much magic I cannot perform! If something happened—Oh Merlin! We are doomed, Daemon!” She started heaving.

Daemon fell silent. Traveling by ship is not possible around this time of year where the narrow sea is in the most dangerous state; they also cannot leave Dorne by land because aside from Dorne anywhere in seven kingdoms, once Viserys’ formal summoning reaches them, they have no option but to obey and return to King’s landing.

It's like leaving one snake pit for another.

“We are all going to die!” Harriet wailed.

Daemon pulls Harriet gently into his embrace, then strokes her back while softly shushing her, “Sshh, my love, everything will be fine.” He assured her.

“No, nothing is fine, and it happens because of me.” She began to sob.

“Nothing is your fault, Harry.” Daemon assured her.

“You don't understand! Things like this always happen to me! People around me would either get hurt or die!

“Harry…” Daemon calls her while slowly tilting her chin up with his forefinger; once Harriet looked at him, he said, “If you try to scare me off now is pointless and a bit tad too late; you should do it before we are married.”

“Daemon!” Harriet gasped in disbelief as she smacked his arm.

Daemon laughed; he pinched Harriet’s nose. “Stop blaming yourself, darling; truly nothing is your fault; we may be trapped in this snake’s pit; however, we still don't know fully if this snake is our enemy or not.”

Harriet stilled. "You thought Martell—" she interrupted herself before she could finish her sentence.

Daemon nodded. “Mmhm, I believe they wish to exploit the rift between me and Viserys. ” He whispers in valyrian.

“I still can’t believe I'm pregnant!” Harriet groaned while stuffing his face with another piece of blood orange. “I don’t feel anything—no cold, no fatigue, no accidental magic! no nothing! I assumed the slight bloating in my stomach was due to the substantial amount of food I consumed in Driftmark. She spoke as she nibbled on another piece of blood orange.

“Well, you may not realize yet, but your breast is definitely larger—”

Harriet throws blood orange’s peel at him.

Daemon laughed. “Just consider yourself lucky, my love. Many pregnant women would trade the world to be in your shoes, especially Aemma; she is always miserable during her pregnancy.”

Harriet hummed absentmindedly while nibbling the last piece of her fifth blood orange. 

“Daemon—” she called him.

“Yes, dearest?”

“What if our child was not born with magic?” She asked out of the blue.

The question surprised Daemon, as he had never considered the possibility. He is fully aware there's a chance of two magical parents birthing a magic-less child, but to think their children would be something other than perfect is just... strange. “With or without magic, our child would definitely be an exceptional dragon rider.”

Harriet blinked in surprise and said, "Our child would receive a dragon?"

“Of course! Our child is a Targaryen; Dragon is their birthright.”

“But…the law?”

Daemon scoffed, “Darling, if Laena Velaryon and both Rhaenyra’s brats could have a dragon, then I don’t see any reason why our child would not.”

“Viserys—”

“Fuck Vieserys, I will beat the shit out of him if he dared to deny our child a dragon.”

Harriet huffed a laugh; she no longer looked like someone bearing a weight on her shoulder.

“You are not supposed to worry too much.” Daemon said, “You need plenty of rest and eat a proper meal.”

“You sound like Hemione.” She mocks an annoying huff.

"Good, because that means you should listen to me more.” Daemon grinned at her.

Harriet groaned in defeat.

Daemon decided to announce Harriet’s pregnancy to the Martell.

He understood the potential consequences of the announcement, yet they couldn't conceal the pregnancy for too long because Harriet would start showing soon.

“Announced it? It's like announcing to the world that we are now in our most vulnerable state, Daemon.” Harriet protested.

“Yes, but the announcement would also force The Martell to protect us, because another Dornish war would follow if something happened to our child.”

“You think Viserys would wage war for us?”

“Seven kingdoms would use whatever reason to wage war against the Dorne, my love.”

Harriet contemplates for a moment before nodding. “If you think that's the best option, then so be it.”

Daemon kissed her beautiful lips, “Rest assured, my love, I will keep us safe.”

To Daemon's surprise, the Martell took the news a bit too well; Qoren Martell even ordered his servants to open a royal grain vault and distribute grain to the people of Sunspear to celebrate the auspicious news.

Harriet tried to stop Qoren or at least let them pay the grain that Qoren had given away, but the Martell’s prince wanted to hear nothing of it.

"You shouldn't feel bad, my lady; this is the smallest thing Dorne could do for my future—"

Eliana, Qoren's wife, suddenly elbowed Qoren in the stomach, causing the prince to cough violently.

"Here, Dorne, we always celebrate auspicious moments like this with our people, Lady Harriet.” Eliana swiftly wrapped her hand around Harriet's arm and dragged her away from Qoren.

Daemon closes the distance between him and Qoren, then says, “If you desire the iron throne, you should marry your daughter to either Viserys' or Rhaenyra's son, not mine.”

Qoren's expression changed as he cleared his throat one last time before straightening his back and confronting Daemon. "You don't have to pretend in front of me, Daemon."

“Pretend?”

“Doing the Westeros tour after winning a war? Who you try to fool here?”

“You mean the war that you funded?” Daemon challenge.

Qoren gave him a drool look. “You truly want to discuss that now?”

“First you try to attack us, then you invite us to your home in order to build an alliance with us? Of course we need to discuss this Qoren; I need to know if I need to burn down Sunspear or not.”

Qoren lifted his hand slightly. “First of all, I didn’t attack you; I was aiding a war to weaken your brother’s kingdom.”

Daemon scoffs.

“As a battle commander to another, do tell me, when you heard the only threat on your enemy side had left on bad terms with the enemy’s king, would you pass up the opportunity to attack your enemy?”

“The only threat? You flatter me, Qoren.” Daemon coos at the prince.

Qoren rolled his eyes. “Who else? Your cousin? your niece? Her sword-swallower husband? Laena Zalyne? You truly think those green dragon riders with little to no battle experience would have a chance against our scorpions?”

Daemon’s jaw clenched upon hearing scorpions. How many did they actually have?

"Oh, don’t make that face, Daemon. I know better than aiming my Scorpions at you.” Qoren sighs, “Let's just cut this short; I truly hope to build alliances with you and your wife. Not with the Targaryen, Velaryon, or the Hightower.”

“I told you, you are making an alliance with the wrong person. I don’t care if you believe me or not; my tour had no hidden agenda; my wife simply wanted to see the beauty of the Seven Kingdoms, that's all.” Daemon chuckled when he saw a frown forming on Qoren’s forehead: “I may have a fall out with my brother, but I have no intention to dethrone him.”

Qoren barks a laugh. “You truly want me to believe that Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince, would pass up the opportunity to become the most powerful man in Westeros?” 

“I don’t need a crown to be the most powerful man in Westeros; I already am the most powerful man in Westeros,” Daemon scoffed smugly.

Chapter Text

“Merlin’s forked beard! Is this cradle truly made with pure gold?!” With disbelief, Harriet traced her finger over the Golden Baby Cradle that Vyonar Hesten had sent to them.

Apparently, ever since the celebration in Sunspear, the news of Harriet’s pregnancy has spread far and wide, even as far as Qohor.

“Since Vyonar is the one who gifted it, yes, I do believe the cradle is truly made with gold.” Daemon responded, skimming through the stack of congratulatory letters on their letter tray.

He gave Saera’s letter to Harry; he didn't want to read whatever that bitter old hag had written.

Harriet opens the letter, reads it briefly, and says, “Saera is furious, because we choose to spend the pregnancy in Dorne.”

“Of course she does.” Daemon sighs while opening Viserys’ letter; his stupid brother Tuly doesn’t know how to take a hint.

"She said she will visit us when the Narrow Sea calms down enough; I hope she arrives before I give birth." Harriet continues.

Daemon hummed, his eyes skimming through Viserys’ usual bullshit and empty promises.

“Oh, Daemon, the Lannister has gifted us a baby's rattle made of gold, Godric's Heart! If our baby begins to play with this heavy toy, he will become the most muscular baby in the world." She crackled, “oh, It came with a letter—” After a period of silence, Harriet burst out laughing, "They wanted to meet us and talk about buying Brightroar from us!"

“They do?” Daemon asked in amusement, his eyes trailing on Viserys’ handwriting. His stupid brother wants their children to share a nurse? Seriously? His perfect child with his Hightower’s whelp? Not a chance.

Viserys speaks so highly of reconciliation, forgiveness, and familial bond, yet he doesn’t even bother to send a dragon egg for his future niece or nephew as a peace offering. 

His brother is truly full of shit.

"Are you truly unwilling to return Brightroar to them?" Harriet inquired.

“Valyrian steel sword is precious, my love; I would rather our child have it.” Daemon responds, tossing Viserys' letter into the fireplace.

“You sound really sure that our child would wield a sword; what if our child decides to be a stonemason?”

Daemon raised his eyebrow. One of many things he learned of Harriet is that his wife truly has a vast imagination.

"Our child is part of the royal family; they certainly would never become stonemasons." Daemon rationalized with her.

"If Bran, the builder, can do it, why can't our child?" She challenge.

“Dearest, Bran the builder is a Lord of Winterfell who happened to build many great things; he was no stonemason.”

Harriet frowns.

Daemon wrapped his arm around Harriet and kissed her cheek. “But, no matter what, I'm sure our child would be the best at anything they put their mind and effort on.”

Harriet finally smiled, saying, "I believe so too!"

Daemon silently sighs in relief.

“I believe Lady Harriet is around five months along.” Maester Mors announced.

“I see.” Daemon responded, “If five months, then that means the baby is convinced in Qohor.” 

Hearing that Harriet's expression changed drastically, “Those fraud magicians in Qohor!” she shouted angrily. 

“Pardon?” Daemon and the maester both asked in confusion.

"I spent months trying to figure out why my contraceptive spell had failed!" The ritual used by those fraudsters to make me the beacon of their magic must be the reason! There's no doubt about it!” She grumbled.

“Contraceptive spell? Fraud? Rituals? Beacon of magic?!” Maester Mors asked in bewilderment.

Harriet's expression softened; she waved her hand in expectation to dissuade Mors’ worry. “It’s nothing, Maester.”

Mors appears unconvinced and wants to inquire further, but he manages to restrain himself and continue tending to Harriet.

While the maester makes a list of all food that Harriet needs to avoid during the pregnancy, more and more gifts and congratulatory letters were brought to their room by the servants: a crate of furs and wooden toys made with iron wood from the north, precious gems and leather from the Reach, pearls from Celtigar, and many more.

“How could we repay all this gift?” Harriet asked while reaching candied fruits, her newfound craving.

“We don’t have to,” Daemon answered nonchalantly while tossing letters from The Hightower, Baratheon, and Peake to the burning ember. There's no need to waste time reading letters from those vile snakes.

As Daemon watched the letters slowly burn, he glimpsed Harriet's handmaiden from the corner of his eye. That maid barged into the room, running towards Harriet, smacking the candied fruit with her hand, and tackling the bowl in the process.

“Did you eat it, my lady?!” Sanna asked in a frantic voice.

Harriet shakes her head.

“Sanna releases Lady Harriet right now!” Mors yells at her.

Sanna exhales a deep breath, “Thank the gods!” She slowly releases Harriet’s wrist.

Daemon unsheathed Dark Sister and pointed its sharp end to Sanna’s throat, “Explain yourself.” 

“Daemon!” Harriet protested.

Daemon ignored Harriet. “Don’t make me ask twice,” he said as he pressed the tip of Dark Sister on Sanna’s neck, making blood bloom like a flower on the collar of her dress.

Sanna raised both her hands to the air. "I meant no disrespect, my prince; I was suspecting that the food had been tampered with poison because someone else beside me had taken Mistress' refreshment from the kitchen."

Daemon narrowed his eyes. The woman speaks the truth; since they arrived at Dorne, she is indeed the only one serving their food.

“What!” Mors snatched the candied fruit; the smell of it caused a frown to form on his forehead. The old maester then stuck out his tongue to taste it, his eyes widening in shock as he spat to the floor, "Hemlock." He declared.

Daemon's jaw clenched. “Why do you even suspect that someone would try to poison my wife?”

“There's several offers for Mistress’ life through the years you spend in Essos, my prince.”

“Bounty for my head?! Again?!” Harriet yells in disbelief.

“Again?” Daemon asked.

“Voldemort.” Harriet answered full of disdain.

Ah, the noseless maniac.

Daemon pulls Harriet closer to her and rubs her back to comfort her. “How do you possess all of this information? Who are you?”

Sanna fell onto her knee, unfazed by the broken glass that began to lacerate her knee. "I had followed the two of you since you stepped foot on Essos soil, my prince, Mistress." 

“Since our arrival at Essos? But this is the first time I ever saw you; I'm certain of it.” Harriet said.

“My God, fortunately, provides me with many faces—” Sanna literally tore off her face like a mask. “—To protect his mistress.”

“The faceless men!” Maester Mors gasped in horror.

Daemon tightened his grip on Dark Sister.

“That face! Ileah! You’re my maid at Saera’s house!” Harriet gasped in both horror and awe.

Once again, Sanna, also known as Ileah, rips off her face and says, "I only meant to keep you safe, mistress. I had no intention other than to serve you." The woman spoke with a new face on her face.

“Oh! Nesella at Vyronar’s house!” Harriet exclaimed.

Daemon pulls Harriet closer to him. “So you have followed us since Qohor?”

"Yes, my prince, ever since learning about Mistress's existence, I have been searching for the two of you."

“Why? I've heard that hiring faceless men for a single task costs a significant amount of money; why do you choose to serve my wife for free?"

“To serve the Mistress of Death is the greatest honor any faceless man could hope to achieve.”

Daemon felt Harriet grow tense in his embrace. 

Mistress of Death? What is this faceless lunatic talking about?

“What happened to the person sent to poison me?!” Harriet suddenly asked.

“Someone else had killed the woman to ensure her silence." The faceless man answered.

Daemon clenches his jaw; this is not a good sign.

“Your name,” Harriet asked.

“Qoren Nymeros Martell, Prince of Dorne, Lord of Sunspear.” Qoren answers monotonously.

“Did you hire that woman to poison me?”

“No, I did not.”

“Were you aware of the attempt?”

"No, I didn't know about it until Mors informed me."

“Did you know who hired that woman to kill me?”

"No, I never saw that woman nor knew anyone who hired her."

"It's true, my lady; no one in this old palace has seen her." Maester Mors adds.

Harriet nodded. “Qoren speaks the truth; the Veritaserum is working.” She informs Daemon.

Daemon's eyes went to Eliana.

The princess of Dorne narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm willing to take Lady Harriet’s truth potion if it would ease your mind, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon wants to entertain that idea; however, Harriet informs him that he only had four bottles left, and she cannot brew a new batch since there's no Jobberknoll bird in this world.

He cannot waste such a precious potion.

Daemon sighs, “No need; I believe the Martells had no hand in the poisoning attempt.”

“Of course we don't! Me and my family would get nothing but a painful death if you or your wife were harmed in Dorne!” Qoren stood up, looking all angry. “I told you that all we want is an alliance, not a fifth Dornish war!” He spat.

“And I had told you that you had made alliances with the wrong person; you should just marry your precious daughter to either Viserys’ or Rhaenyra’s son.” Daemon spat back.

"I would rather kill my beloved Aliandra with my own hands than marry her to a lecher or, even worse, a bastard!" Qoren roared, and as realization dawned on him, he quickly smacked his palm over his mouth.

The room went deadly silent.

“A lecher? A Bastard? Who are you talking about, Qoren?” Harriet asked.

Qoren struggled to fight the Truth potion, but he failed miserably: “The lecher is Prince Aegon, and the bastard is Prince Jacaerys.”

“What!” Harriet gasped in disbelief as Daemon exhaled exhaustive breath. 

Harriet, catching Daemon's exasperation, looks even more surprised. “Is it true?!”

“It's just a rumor, my love.” Daemon answered diplomatically.

As long as he has not personally seen the bastard prince, the rumor remains invalid to him.

“Very vile rumors.” Eliana proceeds to help Qoren into ingesting a nightshade in order to force him to sleep, thereby preventing him from further agitation and chaos. "It may be one of many rumors the green creates to discredit princess Rhaenyra," Eliana remarks.

“The green?” Harriet asked.

"It's what people call Hightower.” Eliana responds, instructing her guards to take the sleeping Qoren to his room.

“Ah, no wonder the rumor is so vile.” Harriet huffed.

Daemon can’t help but chuckle, "You still haven’t got over your grudge against our dear Otto?”

Harriet gives him a droll look, which only makes Daemon laugh even more.

“Lady Harriet had a problem with Lord Hand?” Eliana asked curiously.

“If you had no problem against someone who actively desires to see you burn at stake, you are probably an embodiment of a saint.” Harriet huffed.

“Otto Hightower wants you to have you burn at a stake?!”

"Well, not literally, but he wanted me dead nonetheless." Harriet shrugged.

“Good Heaven!” Eliana exclaimed in horror.

Daemon kisses Harriet’s cheek. “Just say the word, and I will sever Otto’s oversized head from his sorry neck, my love.”

Harriet glared at him, “And raise our child in the middle of war? No, thank you very much.” 

“We only need to wipe out Hightower from Westeros’ history, just like the Harroway.” Daemon teases her.

Harriet quickly smacked Daemon’s arm. “Stop joking, Daemon. You scare Eliana!”

Daemon glances at Eliana Martell, who turns quite pale. He put his hand over his heart and bowed slightly to Eliana. “I apologize that you do not find my joke funny, Princess.”

Harriet rolled her eyes at him.

Chapter Text

Three brothers, traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight, reached a deep, treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learning in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceeded to cross.

Halfway through the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, who had been cheated out of his rightful place. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeded to award them with gifts of their own choosing.

The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river. The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death fulfilled his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone he picked from the riverbank. The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own invisibility cloak.

“Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility.” Harriet put her wand on the table. “That very night, an unknown murderous wizard crept up to the eldest brother as he slept. The wizard stole the wand, then murdered the oldest brother by slitting his throat for good measure. That was when Death took the first brother for his own.”

“The middle brother returned to his home, where he lived alone, turning the stone thrice in his hand. The figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared at once before him. Even though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and continued to suffer. Harriet took the golden ring with the black stone from Daemon’s finger and put it beside the wand. “The middle brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide by hanging so as truly to join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own.”

“Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age that he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son.” Harriet lastly put her invisibility cloak on the table: “Greeting Death as an old friend; they departed this life as equals.”

"Some believed the three objects mentioned during the tale to be the Deathly Hallows, the most powerful magical objects in existence." Harriet explained. “It was believed that whoever succeeded in uniting all three of the Hallows would become the Master of Death. Many people believed in the existence of the Hallows and sought to reunite them, but in the end the relics were united by someone who never sought it, someone who never knew it existed in the first place.” She scoffs bitterly, “The irony—”

“And that's a bad thing?” Daemon asked.

Harriet stares at him in disbelief.

Daemon frowned. Why did Harriet act that way? He didn’t think he said something wrong: “Darling, you’re the strongest witch that ever lived, Darling. How could that be a bad thing?”

Upon seeing Harriet's expression soften, she said, "Trust me, I would rather be a mediocre witch who could barely brew potions properly than become Mistress of Death." She spoke as she returned the ring with the second Hallow to his finger, then intertwined their fingers together.

Harriet fell silent and looked distant, while Daemon was certain that there was more to these hallows than she had disclosed to him.

Should he push? Or should he just wait till Harriet wants to talk about it? He shouldn't stress her out, but he needs to find out what Harriet has been keeping from him. Before he could make up his mind, Harriet spoke first. “I am so sorry, Daemon,” she apologizes with tears rolling down her cheek.

Daemon, in his shock, quickly wiped her tears with his free hand. “What for? You didn’t do any wrong, my love.”

“I do! I took your chance to choose! I thought you wouldn’t be affected by my curse!” 

“Curse? What curse are you talking about, dearest?”

“I never aged since the day I possessed the three Hallows,” she confessed.

Daemon felt like another morning star slammed into his head. He always thought that Harriet was aging slower than a normal human because she was a witch, but he was wrong all this time.

“And you too, ever since our Valyrian wedding had stopped aging." Harriet continues, leaving Daemon even more stunned.

“...I am immortal?”

Harriet winced, "Honestly, I didn’t know for sure; I never died ever since I became Mistress of Death. All I knew was that I had never aged.

A small part of Daemon wanted to test that possibility, but the stakes were too high.

"I thought it would not affect you; I thought I would just find a way to die when the time came, but now I don't know what to do." I felt so guilty for making you shoulder such a burden.”

“Burden? Countless men have attempted to attain immortality for centuries, my love. It’s not a curse; it’s a blessing!”

Harriet shakes her head. “To a mortal, immortality seems like a blessing, but it’s actually a curse in disguise, Daemon.”

Daemon frowns, unable to comprehend Harriet’s point of view.

Harriet took both Daemon’s hands and said, “Think again; being immortal means that we will still be alive when our children and their children die of old age, Daemon; we will stay the same when the world around us keeps changing.”

The realization struck Daemon with the intensity of a morning star.

“I am sorry.” Harriet apologizes again, her hand trembling, tears wetting her cheek once more. “I should ask for your consent; I shouldn’t keep it secret from you... I mess up... I—”

“Harry…”

Harriet looked up; there’s terror in her teary eyes. Did she anticipate that he would scream at her? That he would leave her? 

Daemon brushed his thumb over the back of her hand and said, “Whatever happened, happened, Harry.”

Harriet blinked at him in surprise.

“The past is unchangeable, and there is no point in lingering on it.” He smiled softly at her, "And I would never leave you, my love; whatever it is, we would face it together; aren’t we bound for the rest of our lives?”

Harriet gasped, then hugged him so tight while mumbling that she didn’t deserve him.

Daemon shushed her, saying, “Don’t say that; it’s not your fault, my love. You didn’t know about it.” He assured her, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

When her breathing slowed, he gently kissed her temple, wrapping his arm around her. He spoke to her in low tones, reminding her of their good memories, the laughter they’d shared, and the challenges they’d overcome together. He told her stories, pulling her mind away from all worries that had plagued her and guiding her gently into a place of safety and comfort. Little by little, he felt her relax, her head resting against his shoulder, and finally she fell asleep in his embrace.

Daemon just started enjoying his drama-free life in Dorne with a very beautiful and happy pregnant wife when the Gods decided to spat on his face by making Davos fucking Dayne and Saera Bloody Targaryen happen to embark on the same ship from Volantis.

“Choose which one I should kill,” Daemon told Harriet.

“Daemon!” Harriet gasped and smacked his arm before apologizing to Eliana and Qoren.

“I cannot tolerate both, dearest; I would definitely snap!”

Harriet huffed a laugh. “You are being dramatic, Daemon.” 

“Dramatic?! "That bastard tried to flirt with you, Harry!"

“My brother did what?!” Eliana gasped in horror while Qoren tried hard not to look invested in the drama.

Harriet scrunched her nose. “It's more like harassment than flirting, though.”

Eliana’s jaw dropped. “Oh, I'm so sorry for my brother's callousness, Harriet.” She quickly apologized. “You don’t need to kill my brother, Prince Daemon; I will wring his neck myself!”

Daemon gives a grateful nod to the princess of Dorne.

“Not you, too, Eliana!” Harriet groaned. “Please, just no bloodshed. It'll bring a misfortune for our child.”

“I know, darling, I know.” Daemon kisses her cheek. “No blood,” he smiled cheekily at her.

“No killing!”

Daemon chuckled, “If you insist, my love.”

Harriet rolled her eyes.

While the two women talked about the depraved Davos Dayne, Qoren scooted closer to Daemon and handed him a piece of folded parchment.

When Daemon unfolded it, he saw the familiar handwriting of Otto Hightower, who had asked permission to travel to Dorne to 'confirm' the birth of a new member of the royal family.

“Confirming birth of my child?! Who he thinks he is!” Daemon crushed the parchment angrily. 

“I told him he is always welcome in Sunspear, but I cannot guarantee his safety.” Qoren said.

"I swear that I will sever his head in half if he dares to display his unattractive appearance."

“You just promised Harriet you wouldn’t kill anyone.” Qoren reminds him.

“Harriet would allow this one.” Daemon smirk.

Qoren shakes his head; he knows too well the animosity between Harriet and Otto. “Do whatever you want; just do not bring war to my door.”

Daemon scoffed at Qoren, “A Martell asking a Tagraryen to not bring War to Dorne? Ha! Nymeria must be rolling in her grave right now.”

“Queen Nymeria would be glad to see her people safe and away from unnecessary war.” Qoren rethord.

Daemon laughed, “Whatever you say, Qoren, whatever you say.”

When Saera arrived at Sunspear, she was accompanied not only by Davos Dayne but also by two of Essos' most renowned healers and a midwife who appeared to be older than Balerion.

“I have no intention to belittle your skill and expertise, Maester Mors. I just need to ensure Harriet's safety during the labor.” Saera spoke to Mors before introducing her entourage.

“There’s no offense taken, my lady.” Mors replies with a genuine smile.

“A boy, another Dragon Lord for the world,” the old hag announces out of blue; she does not even touch Harriet.

“A boy? Are you sure?” Harriet asked.

“Am I sure?” The old Hag laughed, “I have helped deliver thousands of babies, my lady.”

“Hear that, Daemon? Another one in line for the throne!” Saera half-smirked and exclaimed, "What rank is he in? The fifth?”

“Seventh, thank you very much.” Daemon spat.

Saera barked a laugh, “Ha! Rhaenyra and that Hightower Bitch truly need to stop popping out a baby every year; I lost count already!”

Harriet shook her head in amusement while letting the healers examine her.

After examining Harriet, both healers confirm that she is currently carrying a boy.

A boy? Who should he name his boy after?

"Have the two of you planned a name?" Saera asked. 

Harriet is shaking her head. “I always want to name my son after my dad, but James Targaryen sounds really ridiculous.” She huffed.

“James Targaryen!” Saera burst out laughing, "No, you absolutely cannot name your son James; he must have a Valyrian name.”

“Must he?” 

“He must.” Saera answers with finality.

“How about Baelon after Daemon’s father?” Harriet suggests that it makes Daemon’s heart swell.

"You can't use the name; there are already two Baelons, both of whom died prematurely."

Harriet tried to protest, but Daemon stopped her. As much as he wanted to name his son after his father, Saera was right; it's better to choose a strong name to ensure his son grows healthy and strong. 

“Our son may have a Valyrian name, but you can always call him James, dearest.” Between Saera's endless suggestions of Valyrian names, Daemon spoke.

“I can?” Harriet asked with bright eyes.

“Of course,”

Saera clicked her tongue, “Since you two are so adamant to call the boy James, there's no other choice than Jael, Jaelyx, Jaes, or Jaehaerys; other names will only confuse the boy.”

“I like Jaehaerys, but is it okay with you, Aunt Saera?” Harriet asked.

“Huh? Why wouldn't I feel okay with it?

“Because you and the Last Jaehaerys are not on good terms, Saera.” Daemon explain.

Saera barked a laugh. “Don’t worry about me, my dear; I never knew the old king as Jaehaerys; he has always been Your Grace to me since the day I was born.”

Harriet nodded. “Jaehaerys then.”

As Daemon held his newborn son for the first time, a swell of pride enveloped him like a warm embrace. He gazed down at the tiny face. Jaehaerys Targaryen was born with tufts of silver blond hair and brilliant mismatched eyes, one violet, the other green.

Every Jaehaerys’ tiny movement sparked a rush of joy—each flutter, each soft sigh felt monumental. He couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness and a desire to nurture his precious boy. In that moment, he envisioned a future filled with shared laughter, lessons learned, and adventures yet to come. 

“Well, Rhaenyra is fucked.” Saera crackles upon seeing Jaehaerys with all his Valyrian features.

Daemon quickly shushes that damn woman a bit too loudly, which startled Jaehaerys and made him cry.

"That was just a nasty rumor spread by the Hightower, Aunt Saera." Harriet said while soothing Jaehaerys.

“Many rumors start with the truth, Harry.”

Daemon quickly cut Saera, “Bastard or not, my brother already legitimized them.”

“Of course that clown would do that.” Saera scoffs, “You think all the lords and ladies of seven kingdoms would just accept that?”

“They accept Rhaenyra.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Daemon. Perhaps one day you'll come to believe that falsehood." Saera responded sarcastically, then shifted her focus to Jaehaerys, who was currently staring at her with large eyes. "Oh! Hi there, little one. Did you know that your eyes remind me of my big sister Alyssa?”

“Truly?” Harriet asks Daemon.

Daemon nodded. “Yes, my mother also had mismatched eyes, one violet and one green; Jaehaerys’s eyes are much more vibrant, though.”

Saera nodded in agreement.

King’s Landing—Viserys.

“A boy with mismatched eyes?!” Viserys inquired with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

His brother, whom he had shared so much with, recently became a father. It’s a bittersweet feeling, this happiness mixed with a touch of longing, but he can’t help the smile creeping onto his face.

He pictures his brother holding that tiny baby with mismatched eyes. It fills him with warmth, imagining the glow of pride on his brother’s face and the way his eyes might light up at the first coos and cries. There’s something beautiful about new beginnings, and this baby represents hope—hope for healing, for reconnection.

Lyman Beesbury nodded. “Yes, your grace, one violet and one green, just like Princess Alyssa, your mother.”

“Just like my mother.” Viserys murmured as memories flood his mind, each one colored by the vibrant hues of his mother’s mismatched eyes. He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining her smile and the way it would light up her face. 

The image of his mother flickers with hope in Visery’s heart. Maybe this baby will be the catalyst they need—a way to start fresh and rewrite their story. He dreams of the future, of family gatherings filled with laughter, of a little one running between them, creating a bond that could mend the past.

“Bring me my royal seal; I will grant Prince title to my brother’s heir.” Viserys announce.

“Prince title, your grace?” Otto asked in shock.

“Yes, a title and land!” Viserys answers, beaming with hope. He is certain this gesture will finally bring Daemon back.

Dragonstone–Rhaenyra

The news hit Rhaenyra like a slap on her face.

The betrayal stung sharper than any physical wound. All those moments they shared—the late-night talks, the laughter—they felt like a cruel illusion now, tainted by this reality. She is certain now that the witch truly bewitched his uncle. It made sense now—the way he had changed, how he seemed to drift away like a leaf on a wind she couldn’t control.

The Daemon she knew would never marry someone who had no Valyrian heritage; the Daemon she knew would never have half-breed as a son!

Rhaenyra imagined him holding that baby, the way he must look at the little creature with such warmth, and her insides twisted with rage. 

How could he choose her? The thought of him entranced, bewitched by that witch’s dark magic, filled her with a mix of fury and despair. It wasn’t just jealousy; it was a feeling of helplessness, as if she were watching loved one fall into a dark pit, and all she could do was scream silently into the void.

Her fingers tightened around her goblet, the steel cool against her burning skin. 

The desire for revenge bubbled up, and she felt a surge of power in her anger. She needs to find a way to break the spell. There had to be a way to reclaim what was hers, to show him the truth behind that witch's dark magic.

As she stared out the window, watching the world bustle by, a plan began to form in her mind. It wouldn’t end like this. No, she refused to accept that fate. She would confront the witch, unmask her for what she truly was, and bring her dear uncle back to the light. He needed her—she was sure of it. She just had to find a way to make him see it too.

Driftmark–Rhaenys

Rhaenys stands on a quiet balcony overlooking the Driftmark’s gardens. She fixes her gaze on her son, Laenor, as he engages in joyful play with his two sons. The light of late afternoon casts soft shadows on them, and the sound of their laughter reaches her, sweet but tinged with an underlying tension she feels too deeply.

She once harbored an abundance of dreams for her beloved son. She had imagined him riding in battles, crowned in glory, the strength of Velaryon and Targaryen blood united in one—a bond unbreakable—to carry their lineage forward. But here he is, playing in innocence with the sons who bear his name but not his blood. Such sweet boys, and yet...

Rhaenys wonders how they all ended up in this situation.

Laenor smiled at them, as if they were truly his. They laugh with him as if there were no questions haunting their birthright, as if they would grow into men whose place in this world is as certain as the dragons they ride. How could he be able to live it, breathe it, and carry it with such effortless grace?

Oh Laenor, if only he could see the world as she does. If only he could understand the weight of the storm that gathers. Because one day, they may demand to know whose blood truly flows through the veins of those boys. And on that day, she prays his son is strong enough to carry whatever comes into his path.

Rhaenys glances at the parchment on her writing table; there's news that Cannibal flew to Dorne and claimed Daemon’s son as his rider. She used to be confident that they could fight both Aegon and Daemon because each side only had one dragon, but now she is unsure.

The only thing that she is sure of is that they walk toward their doom.

Chapter Text

Harriet didn’t know how she ended up in this situation, standing before two angry dragons who were currently snapping their jaws at each other.

$Begone to the hellhole you belong to!$ Caraxes roared angrily at the Cannibal, who appeared to be twice as big as him and could have snapped his neck in two with a single bite.

$I wouldn’t go anywhere before I claimed my pet$ Cannibal roared back.

$I will not let a vile kinslayer lizard like you claim my pets’ precious hatchling!$

$It’s not up to you to decide, worm!$

$The little Hatchling is my pets’ that means he belong to me!$ Caraxes roared as he headbutted the Cannibal.

Unfazed, the Cannibal returned the favour by headbutting Caraxes back with all his power and ended up making Caraxes tripped to the side and destroyed Eliana’s garden completely.

Caraxes stood up and let out a loud, angry screeching, yet before he could spat a fire, Harriet yelled.

$STOP!!$

The two dragons freeze.

$Let me be clear, so you Caraxes went all the way back to Dragonstone just to brag about my son to Vermithor and Silverwing. Then when you halfway return to Dorne, you realise that Cannibal is following you because he wants to claim my son as his rider?$

$Yesss! This ancient bastard eavesdropping and suddenly claiming little hatchlings are his destined pet!$

$I have waited for thousands years for a pet that is worthy to sit on my back and the time had finally come$

Harriet frowns, $Why do you think my son is your destined rider?$

$Because he is the first one born with both Dragon blood and Magic since the doom of Valyria$

Harriet glared at Caraxes, $You boast about it too?$

$Our little hatchling is special; of course I boast about it$ Caraxes answers without any shame.

Harriet shook her head peevishly. $I should never tell you about James’ accidental magic$ 

$That is not something to be ashamed of; you should be more proud about it$ Caraxes said.

$True$ Cannibal agrees.

Harriet rolled her eyes, $My son is still young; it will be years before he able to ride on your back$

$Thousands of years have passed since I waited for this day; another couple of years would only be a breeze$

Harriet scratches her temple; Cannibal looks like he has set his mind and wouldn’t accept refusal.

“What Cannibal wants?” Daemon asked.

“He wants to claim James as his rider.” Harriet answered while keeping eyes on the black dragon.

Daemon's eyes went wide with surprise. "What?! Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?”

“I don’t think a dragon like Cannibal would do anything in the normal way.” Harriet grimace.

“What now? We just let this dragon claim our son?”

“I don’t think we have any other options, my love.”

Daemon let out a long sigh, “I will get James.”

Harriet thank him, then glared at the black dragon, $Harm single hair of my son and I will cook you alive in the volcano$

Cannibal let out a rumble similar to laughter. $I expected nothing less from mother of my pet$

$His name is James, Jaehaerys in Valyrian$ Harriet explained.

$That sounds like Vermithor’s pet name$

Caraxes huffed, $That is the reason I flew all the way to Dragonstone$

Harriet shook her head disapprovingly at Caraxes as she received James from Daemon and presented him to Cannibal.

Cannibal reptile pupil dilated. $Perfect$ he murmured.

James did not look scared at all upon seeing the massive dragon and his menacing green eyes; he even outstretched his hand to touch Cannibal's black scales.

Cannibal closes his eyes once James’ tiny palm touches his scale. $I will protect you and annihilate all your enemies$ the fierce dragon promised.

Chapter Text

King’s Landing 122AC King Viserys 45th Name-Day Banquet 

—Laena Velaryon—

“ What are you thinking?! ” Laena murmurs angrily at his brother as he drags him to a more private section of the garden where the King held his name-day feast. “ I will not accept it, Laenor! ”

“Laena please…” Laenor pleaded.

" How could you treat your own blood so cruelly, Laenor?" Laena spat at him, " You claim to love Rhaena, yet you wish to humilate her by marrying her to a bastard!"

“ I only do what you ask me for! By marrying Lucerys, Rhaena would become Lady of Driftmark; is that what you ask for me? To see one of your children sit on the Driftwood throne?"

" You know that this farce of a marriage will only serve to benefit that whore and secure Lucerys' position, while my beloved Rhaena will suffer the consequences for marrying a bastard! "

“ Lower your voice, Laena! ” Hissing, Laenor looked around to make sure no one had heard her. " The king had legitimized Lucys, and Rhaena would face no harm."

Laena can't help but scoff. " The king could legitimize his daughter's bastards a thousand times, but it would not stop the people from gossiping and spreading rumors about it."

Laenor clenched his jaw.

“ Driftmark belongs to Velaryon and Velaryon only! Our family survived the doom and thousands of tribulations beside it! The gods would be damned before I would see it end on the count of Rhaenyra's bastard!

“ And what will you do, sister? Contest Lucerys’ succession? ” Laenor challenged.

“ My soon-to-be-born son has more claim to Driftmark than that whore’s little bastard! ” Laena spat and covered her pregnant stomach with her hand.

" In case you forgot, your son's last name is Zalyne, and Lucerys' is Velaryon. "

“Laenor!”

Laenor lifted his finger to stop Laena from protesting further. “ By the time your son comes of age, Rhaenyra will already be the Queen. Did you think she'd give you Driftmark when you demanded it? No sister, she will brand you as a traitor and make your life hell for daring to challenge her son's claim over Driftmark. ”

Laena finally realized something: "Is that the reason you chose those bastards, who don't have a single drop of your blood, over your own family? Because you are afraid of that whore, afraid of what she could do to you? to your precious Joffrey?”

Laenor went stiff.

Laena shook her head; she can't believe that her gallant brother, who carries both Targaryen and Velaryon blood, allowed a Targaryen whore to transform him into a submissive scum.

Before she could further express her disgust, the guard made a grand announcement about the arrival of unexpected guests.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen, his lady wife, Lady Harriet Targaryen, and their son, grand prince Jaehaerys Targaryen.”

Laena's breath stops at her throat upon seeing Daemon again after so many years; he is still as handsome and dashing as Laena remembers. Daemon appears like god, unaffected by time, in contrast to the king, who always appeared decades older every time Laena saw him. 

Like Laena, everyone's attention was quickly drawn to the garden entrance, where Daemon made his entrance.

“Daemon!” The king shouted as he made his way to Daemon, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to meet them. “You’re back!” He said it in disbelief.

Daemon rolled his eyes, unbothered to mask his annoyance. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, your grace. I am not returning nor ever want to be here, however—” he nudged his head to his son. "This little prince discovered your invitation and insisted that he wanted to celebrate his uncle's birthday."

“Truly?” Clearly unaffected by Daemon's earlier remarks of condescension, the king asked Daemon's son with delight.

The perfect little Targaryen prince, who could be both Daemon's and hers if the damn witch didn't intervene, nodded eagerly. Laena believed the little prince was six name-days, two years younger than her Rhaena. “Families should celebrate together, especially birthdays!” He announced.

The king gasped, his expression showing that the little prince's words had touched him deeply.

Daemon grimaced upon seeing the king on the verge of tears; he quickly snapped his finger, and a servant arrived with a glass lantern that contained what appeared to be a bright star.

“What is this?” The king asked in awe.

“It is my gift for you, Uncle King!” The little prince declared, "I made it myself!"

"You do?!" The king, like most of his guests, stared at the lantern and stared inside it in awe as he asked.

"Well, only the light. A glassmaker in Sunspear made the lanterns." Jaehaerys confessed with a little blush over his cheek.

Seeing that, Daemon chuckled and gently ruffled the boy's hair. "The light will not extinguish; if you wish to shut the light—" he says, reaching for the lever on top of the lantern and gently pulling it. “Pull the lever to reveal the cover.”

“It will not extinguish?”

"No, it wouldn't burn anything, either." Daemon opened the case and touched the star with his finger, “just a solid light.”

“What a wonder!” The king exclaimed while also touching the star with his finger.

“Did you like it, Uncle King?”

“Like it? This is the best present I have ever received in my whole life." The king announced.

The little prince giggled in delight while Daemon again lovingly ruffled his wild hair.

The Red Keep - James

James decided he didn't like the Red Keep; despite its beauty and size surpassing that of Sunspear's old palace, something about this castle felt so cold and eerie to him.

“Something wrong, Grand Prince?” Ser Harrold Westerling asked. Uncle King had assigned the old knight as his guard for his entire stay in the keep.

“No, I just miss the Old Palace in Sunspear. It's a lot warmer there,” James smiled at the old knight.

The old knight hummed in understanding.

James misses Uncle Davos and his creative remarks; that man always commented on almost anything he laid his eyes on; he even could make discussion about old carpet really interesting. 

“This is the Royal Library, Grand Prince Jaehaerys.” The King’s Guard told James.

“Thank you so much for taking me here, Ser Harrold.” James expressed his gratitude to the old knight with his brightest smile.

Ser Harold put his hand upon his heart and bowed slightly. “Always pleased to serve, grand prince.”

The scary-looking guard outside the library bows slightly to him and Ser Harrold before opening the door for James.

“Thank you!” James thanked the guard before entering the library.

Surprisingly, the scary-looking guard smiled kindly at him. His mother was right; only bad people would react badly to kindness.

James hummed happily as he strolled in the middle of the high bookshelves. He traced his finger over the spine of the book, "Story of the Seven Kingdom... The north, the Starks, ah! There it is! The wall!” James took the book from the shelf. He frowned. Why is the book about the Wall so thin and light?

James took the book to the reading area, where he found himself not alone; there was also a boy around his age, with the same coloring as him, who was deeply engrossed in his book and whatever he was writing beside it.

James glances at the other table, but it's incredibly dimly lit, in contrast to the boy's table. He could always create his own lighting, but it would likely disturb the boy.

James carefully considered his options before approaching the boy. “Hi, sorry, but can I sit here? This is the only table with proper lighting.”

The boy looked startled at first but quickly squinted his eyes at James suspiciously. "You...”

“Me?” James asked in confusion.

The boy stared at the book James brought and said, “Do whatever you want; just don’t invade my space.” He huffed.

“Thanks!” James chimed; he took the chair across the boy and started reading his book.

The Wall is a massive barrier of mostly ice stretching across the northern border of the Seven Kingdoms, separating it from the wild lands beyond. The Wall is one hundred leagues long and reaches over seven hundred feet at its highest point, although some foundation blocks in hilly regions, such as near Greyguard, send it nine hundred feet in the air. According to myth, there are old spells woven into the Wall to strengthen it and keep creatures of a magical nature, such as the Others, from passing it.

The Sworn Brothers of the Night's Watch patrol and guard nineteen castles from the Frostfangs mountain range in the west to the Bay of Seals in the east, defending and holding the Wall. Only the Shadow Tower, Castle Black, and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea are garrisoned at the start of A Song of Ice and Fire. Those who join the Watch in order to avoid another punishment can be referred to as sent to the Wall.

“That’s it?! What rubbish!” James huffed as he pushed the book he just finished aside.

The boy in front of him ignores him and keeps scribbling in his journal; James wonders if this boy in front of him is Aemond or Aegon. James hopes he is Aemond because Dad warned him that he needed to avoid Aegon at all costs.

James then glancing at possibly Aemond’s book and realizing something: “Oh! Is that my dad’s book?”

Probably Aemond pauses his writing, casts an irritated glance at James, and quickly responds, "It is."

James noticed that the boy had two books—one that his father had written in Valyrian and the other that grand uncle Vaegon had translated. “Uhhh…”

“I'm perfecting my Valyrian.” He continued without halting what he had been writing in his journal.

James frowns. How could someone perfect a language without actively practicing it?

“Nobody actively speaks Valyrian in this castle; the maesters could, but their pronunciation is trash, so I need to find other ways to practice and expand my vocabulary.”

“Oh!” James finally understands, “I can be your practice partner if you want.”

Probably Aemond arched an eyebrow at James.

"I have spoken Valyrian with my mum and dad since I was a baby."

“Why do you want to help me? What are you aiming for?” He asks accusingly.

“Huh? I'm not aiming at anything." James pursues his lower lips, “I just want to help you.”

“Why do you want to help me?” He repeated his question, this time with less accusation.

“Because I can help?”

“You want to help me simply because you could? You truly didn’t have any hidden motivation?”

James is thinking hard; why does he need reason to help others, especially a family? “You’re my family; Mum said family must help each other.”

Aemond looked at James in disbelief. “That’s all?”

James smiled as he nodded.

“You weird.” he declared.

James gasped, “I’m not weird! You are the one who is weird for keeping questioning people’s motives!”

“That’s not weird; you should always question people's motives; we are not just ordinary people; people always want something from us.”

James scrunched his nose in distaste; he finally understood why his mom and dad kept warning him to stay vigilant during their stay in the Red Keep. He wonders, How could people live in a place where they cannot trust anyone?

Possibly Aemond extended his hand toward James. “I am Aemond.” he finally introduced himself.

James quickly received the outstretched hand and said, "I'm James!"

James winced when he touched Aemond’s dragon egg; it was cold, and there was no sign of life on it. He wanted to tell the truth, but he couldn’t do that after seeing hope in Aemond’s eyes.

Aemond confided in him that this dragon egg was his last hope of having a dragon because the last unclaimed dragon in Dragonpit, Meraxes, had refused to bond with him.

“Uhhh… I think we need my mum to run a diagnostic spell upon this egg just to make sure.”

Aemond carefully put his egg back in his bag. “I don’t want to bother your mother over this trivial thing.”

James shook his head. “Diagnostic spell is just a simple magic; it’s no bother at all.”

Aemond stared at James. "Are you aware that your parents hate my grandfather?" Aemond asked.

“Of course! There’s only three people my mum ever hates; the first is Voldemort, the second is Umbrige, and the third is your grandfather.”

“Voldemort? Umbrige?”

“Umbrige is a very bad woman, and Voldemort is my mum nemesis; she vanquished him a long time ago before she met my dad.”

Aemond lips turn into a thin line.

"You don't need to worry; my mum doesn't like killing people. I can’t say the same thing about my dad, though.” James srunched his nose at Aemond.

Aemond sighs, looking all somber.

"Are you worried that my mother won't help you because she hates your grandfather?"

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Eish, my mum will help you regardless of whoever your grandfather is.”

Aemond still looks unconvinced but says nothing.

" We can always fly to Dragonstone if your egg cannot hatch; there are many unclaimed dragons there: Vermithor, Silverwing, Greyghost, and Sheep Stealer. " James switches to Valyrian.

“ Can’t… Rhaenyra wouldn’t let me pass. ” Aemond answered gravely.

James frowned. " Why wouldn't Rhaenyra allow you to visit Dragonstone? "

Aemond quickly wrote down ‘ let you come ’ in his journal before responding, “Because she is a vile woman and she hates my family.”

“Your family?” James asks in confusion.

“The Hightower?”

James became even more confused. “But you’re Targaryen; we're all Targaryen.”

“It’s complicated.” Aemond spoke in common tongues.

“ It's not! You guys are the ones who made it complicated.”

“Maybe.” Aemond shrugs after writing another new word.

“ No wonder my dad dislikes being here. ” James huffed

“He doesn’t like being here?” Aemond asked in surprise.

James nods. “ He didn’t want to return here at all; we had purchased a big home in Volantis, you know, close to Grand— uhh… Saera. ” James scrunched his nose. “ Please don’t tell her I almost call her Grand-Aunt ; she will skin me alive! ”

“You don’t have to be afraid. It's a huge crime to hurt a Targaryen prince.” Aemond assures him.

“Saera is different; she is above any law .”

“ No one is above law. ”

“ Wait until you meet Saera. ”

“ I'm really not looking forward to it. ”

James snickered. Saera would eat Aemond alive like she always does to his dad. "If Rhaenyra refuses to grant you passage, we simply need to approach Uncle King; he is the monarch and his decrees are legally binding."

“ I don’t think he will do that for me .”

“Huh? Why? ”

“The truth is, I never saw him for more than five minutes, let alone talk with him.”

James’ eyes widened in shock. “ What?! But he’s your father! ”

Aemond simply replied with a sad smile.

James is blown away; he never imagined the situation where he never speaks to his father. Uncle King seems like a decent person and always treats James kindly, but why did he treat his own children so poorly?

“James, pack your stuff; we are leaving!” Dad's voice is booming inside the library.

“Huh?” Both Aemond and James respond in unison.

"Oh, hello there." His mom greets Aemond with a warm smile, while his father immediately frowns when he sees him. "You—” Before dad could say anything else, mum smacked his chest. “—Aemond, right?” Mum asked, still in a smile, completely ignoring Dad, who had a coughing fit.

“Yes, I am Aemond, Lady Harriet.” Aemond answered politely.

“Just call me Harriet, our aunt, if you like; there’s no need for pleasantry among family.” Mum said kindly.

Dad appeared to be about to protest, but Mum glared at him until his lip became a thin line.

“Mum, did we truly need to leave right now? I’m still helping brother Aemond with his study.”

“You do?” Mum asked as she glanced over the table between James and Aemond, “Oh? Isn’t that your dad’s book?”

“It is; Dad’s book is brother Aemond favorite! It helps him with his Valyrian.”

“Oh really?” Mum asks in amusement,

Aemond lowered his head, hiding his blushing cheek.

“Oh yeah! Mum, can you check on brother Aemond’s dragon egg?”

“Of course I can; may I see it?” mum asked.

Aemond nods, then carefully hands over his dragon egg to mum,

Mum gently waved her wand over the egg. James watched her mom's eyes turn sad. "Ah... I'm so sorry, your egg has turned into stone, Aemond," her mother said sadly, handing the egg back to Aemond.

Aemond hugged his egg close to his heart, “It’s okay; I always knew this egg wouldn’t hatch.”

James silently asked his mum if there was anything they could do to help, and she simply shook her head sadly at him.

“Are you trained with the sword beside studying?" Dad asked out of nowhere, breaking the sad silence over them.

“...Yes?” Aemond answers in uncertainty.

“Are you good with swords?” Dad asked again.

“Better than my brother Aegon.” Aemond answered, confident this time.

Dad somewhat looks proud. “If you promise me to do your best in both sword training and your study, when you come of age, I’ll help you claim a dragon.”

Like James, both Aemond and mum look at dad with wide eyes.

“What? If we take this brat now, his vile grandfather will accuse me of kidnapping him.”

Mum rolled her eyes at Dad.

Chapter Text

King’s Landing — Daemon

“Just say it, Harry.” Daemon sighs, unable to bear another moment of Harriet's silent frown, which has been a permanent fixture on her face ever since they returned from the banquet.

“ They’re Harwin’s, aren’t they?! ” She blurted out in Valyrian.

Daemon pinched the bridge of his nose; he himself could not deny those boys’ parentage any longer once he laid his eyes on them; the resemblance to Harwin was too uncanny. And to make matters worse, Rhaenyra, for whatever reason, decided to keep Harwin close by her side!

“I understand one as an accident, but three? Godric’s heart! No wonder people are so certain about the bastardry of those boys, especially when she keeps Harwin by her side!" Harriet groaned. "What was she thinking?!”

Exactly! What was she thinking?

Daemon exhaled a long, exhausting breath and exclaimed, "Fool, every one of them!" He spat. “She could at least choose a paramour with the same color as Leanor!”

Harriet glared disapprovingly at him.

Daemon lifted his hand slightly. “My point, dearest, is that my niece is making a fool of herself just like her father!”

Harriet sighs. “I gave up!” She collapses to Daemon's lap, wraps her arm around his waist, and buries her face in the crook of his neck. “Your monkey, your circus.” She mumbled.

“What?!” Daemon laughed, “That's not working that way, Harry!”

“It does! I marry you, not your family.”

Daemon laughed even more as he kissed her lips.

Harriet groaned, “I should insist that you take my last name back then!”

“Actually, there's already a House of Potter in the Reach.” Daemon informed her.

“Really?”

“Yes, a minor house, and I also don’t think Daemon Potter would inflict any fear on our enemies.”

Harriet looks at Daemon for a moment before bursting into laughter, saying, "No, it definitely wouldn't scare anyone! It sounds ridiculous!" She crackles.

“And Jaehaerys Potter?”

Harriet smacks Daemon’s chest and laughs even harder, “Stop it!”

“It's your idea, not mine!” Daemon laughed.

“Oh dear Merlin, I can't.” Harriet wheezes.

A knock on the door interrupted their laughter.

Daemon did not expect to see Rhaenyra’s handmaiden looking nervously at him when he opened the door.

He arches his eyebrow at the handmaiden.

The handmaiden swiftly shoved a folded piece of parchment into his hand, then fled without saying anything.

“What is it, Daemon?” Harriet asked from inside the room.

"Rhaenyra's handmaiden delivered this to me." Daemon responded, closing the door and unfolding the parchment.

The familiar handwriting of Rhaenyra instructed him to proceed to her chamber by secret passage, as she had urgent matters to discuss.

With a deep frown on his forehead, he continued, "Rhaenyra wants to see me."

“At this time of night?” Harriet asked with a matching frown on her forehead.

Daemon stared at the piece of parchment with suspicion. "Do you think this could be Otto's scheme?"

Harriet pursed her lower lips. “I don’t think Otto had power over Rhaenyra’s handmaiden; that girl had been with her even before Alicent became queen, right?”

“You’re right…” Daemon said this before throwing the parchment into the fireplace.

“Go to her; whatever she could not say back then at the banquet must be important and to your ears only.” Harriet urged him.

Daemon half-heartedly takes his cloak.

“You want me to accompany you?” Harriet teases him while fastening his cloak.

“Honestly? Yes, I really have a bad feeling about this. However, my fragile masculine ego demands that I face everything alone like a man.”

Harriet laughed, “I shouldn’t teach you that new vocabulary.” She patted his chest. “All done, my handsome husband.”

“Thank you, my lovely wife.”

Rhaenyra was waiting for Daemon when he entered her chamber through the secret passage. She sat on the side of her bed, resembling a very image of Aemma in her youth.

“You looking for me?” Daemon asked as he approached her. He halted upon seeing her eyes, which were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for hours. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“What’s wrong?” Rhaenyra stood up, looking all enraged. “Everything is wrong, Daemon!”

Daemon raised one of his eyebrows, unsure how he should react to Rhaenyra’s hysterics.

"How could you do this to me? Why are you abandoning me?" She cried as she struck Daemon's chest with her fist.

“Excuse me?” Daemon asked in bafflement.

“You abandoned me! Did you know how miserable I am? Fighting the Hightowers on my own?!” She kept screaming while hitting his chest repeatedly.

“I never abandoned you, Rhaenyra.” Daemon catches both of Rhaenyra's arms to stop her.

“You did! You married that witch and left me in the midst of the snake's pit! Look at what my life became without you!” She starts kicking his leg.

Oh dear gods, His niece had lost her mind.

“You shouldn’t leave! You should fight for me! You should love me after everything I have done to you! After I free you from your bronze bitch!”

Daemon’s mouth hung open in shock. "Wait—you killed Rhea?!”

“Yes, and I would do it again for you in a heartbeat. I will kill that witch and free you from her spell.”

Daemon stepped back and stared at his niece in disbelief.

“She bewitched you, Daemon. Can't you see that?! She put you under her spell to bend to her will!”

Daemon raised his hand to stop Rhaenyra from her nonsense rambling. “First of all, I never look at you that way—” 

“Lie! You do love me! I know you always loved me!” She yells as she begins to disrobe from her nightgown.

“What you think you’re doing!” Daemon hissed as he immediately tried to tie her robe back.

Rhaenyra swiped Daemon’s hand away and let the piece of fabric drop to the floor, pooling around her feet. “Fight that witch spell, Daemon! Remember your love for me!”

Daemon was beyond speechless; he honestly didn’t know how to deal with this level of delusion.

Normally, he would simply get rid of the problem once and for all and be done with it, but this is his niece, a member of his family; he cannot just cut her head off.

"Remember your love for me, uncle,” Rhaenyra approached him, wrapped her arm around his neck, and pressed her naked body against his clothed one. “Leave that witch and return to me.”

Daemon had never felt such disgust; was this the same feeling his father experienced when he discovered Vissera naked on his bed?

“I need you now more than ever, uncle.” She whispered in his ear.

Daemon stilled something clicking inside his head; he pushed her away from him and then glared at her. “Need me for what, Rhaenyra?”

“To help me, you are the only one who could help me, uncle.” She murmured upon his lips.

Daemon laughs, disbelieving the audacity of this whore of a niece standing before him. “You are truly your father’s daughter, aren’t you?” He took a few steps back to create a space between them.

She frowned. "What do you mean?”

Daemon ignored the question, "I recommend that you look for someone else who is willing to handle your dirty work, princess, because I am not going to help you clear the mess that you create."

“You wouldn’t help me?” Rhaenyra asked in dismay.

“No, I wouldn't.” Daemon smiled.

Rhaenyra approached Daemon once more and cupped both of his cheeks. “Can't you see how deep you’re under her spell?! I will kill her and free you—!”

“Listen here, you little wench.” Daemon growls as he grabs both of Rhaenyra's wrists; his patience has come to its wits end. “If you dared to harm a single hair of my wife or my son's head, I swear to the fourteen flames I will turn your precious kingdom and everyone you ever cared for into ashes; then I will take sweet time flaying your skin, severing your limbs one by one, and feeding them to the dogs.” 

Rhaenyra shook her head in denial and kept claiming that Daemon was under Harriet’s spell, insisting that he always loved her; she even showed him the Valyrian steel necklace he had given her back then as proof of their love.

“I guess this is the way God punished me for all my wrongdoing in my youth.” Daemon lets out a heavy sigh before focusing his gaze on his niece. “I don't care if you would believe me or not; however, the truth is, Princess, every action I've taken toward you has been solely for the purpose of putting my ass on the throne.

Rhaenyra gasped in disbelief; tears started streaming down her cheek. “Lie.” She shed tears and shook her head in response. Clearly still deep in her denial.

Daemon released Rhaenyra’s wrist, making her slump to the stone floor. “It’s the truth, Rhaenyra. All the warnings from your father and others about me were true; I only saw you as my way to the throne."

She looked at him incredulously and yelled, “How could you do this to me?!”

Daemon sighs. His niece is truly his father’s daughter, always blaming other people for their mistakes. “I didn’t do anything to you, Rhaenyra. It’s your father who forced you to marry Laenor, and it's your own decision to give birth to three bastards.”

"You—!"

"I may have misled you, but whatever happened in your life was your own doing, not mine."

Rhaenyra clutched her chest, her face contorted in pain as she gasped for air.

Daemon grabs a sheet and covers Rhaenyra's naked body with it. "Stop self-sabotaging yourself." He gave the final piece of advice before leaving the room.

“Desperate little thing, isn't she?” Harriet casually asks.

“Harry?!” Daemon gasped in surprise as he quickly sheathed his dagger back in its scabbard.

“Awww, did I spook the great Daemon Targaryen?” She teases.

Daemon rolled his eyes. "Yes, and for your information, I almost stabbed your face, dearest."

Harriet chuckled, "You don't have to worry about any spy; I secure the room with Muffliato charm."

"Ah~ No wonder no one has barged into the room despite all the screaming and wailing."

Harriet smiled as she entwined their fingers. “I almost barged in and hexed the shit out of that pathetic woman, you know?”

“My, my, did my pretty wife get jealous?” Daemon cooed at her.

“You said it like you would just stay still if there’s a naked man making advances on me.” Harriet rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think there's a man in his right mind who would do that to you, my love.”

“Davos would.”

Daemon’s temple twitched; yes, that bastard would definitely do that despite the consequences. “I will break every bone in his body if he dares to pull a stunt like that.” He growled.

Harriet laughed as he pulled Daemon back to their chamber and sealed the secret passage.

"My father once also experienced something like this, you know?”

“He does?”

Daemon hummed. "My aunt Viserra sneaked into my father's chamber and lay naked on his bed, believing that if she could seduce my father, she would become queen and break her arranged marriage with Lord Manderly."

“So these are 'Targaryen things'?”

Daemon scrunched his nose.

Harriet laughed, “So what happened to Viserra?”

“She died.” Daemon answers lightly.

Harriet's eyes widened in horror.

Daemon laughed upon seeing Harriet's horrified expression. “My father did not kill her; Viserra lost her life in a horse race, falling from her saddle into a wall and suffering a broken neck."

“Godric’s heart! What a terrible way to die!”

“Well, she didn’t get to marry the Manderly; she got her wish.”

Harriet quickly smacked his arm. “Have some respect for the deceased!”

Daemon just shrugged; he held no sympathy for a woman who had no self-respect for herself. 

“So what to do now?” Harriet asked.

"Now we are going to retrieve our precious son and leave this circus for good."

"Leave? But you promised Viserys to stay for the week." She reminded him.

Daemon arched his eyebrow. "After witnessing my niece try to seduce me, you still want to stay?" 

“Well, no, but Viserys would be sad. You heard what Ser Harrold said at the banquet—that this was the first time he saw Viserys truly happy since the day you left.”

“Left?!” Daemon scoffed, "That bastard banished me! I didn't leave on my own, you know that!"

"I know my love, but Viserys seems to have learned his lesson."

"One thing I am certain about my brother is his incapability to learn from mistakes." Daemon said while tossing his clothes to the crate.

“Daemon…”

“Save it, dearest. I don't care if Viserys mops the floor with his tears; we are still leaving.”

Harriet sighs. "If that is your final decision, then—" She waved her wand to magically pack all their stuff into one big crate. “Let’s go find James.”

“That won’t work.” Daemon said when he overheard James and Aemond planning to correspond, “By the time Aemond’s letter reaches Highgarden, we may have already left for Arbor.”

“Stop discouraging their friendship!” Harriet hissed angrily at him.

“I’m not discouraging their friendship, my love; I’m just stating the fact: Ravens are not owls; they cannot track down the receiver.”

Harriet deflated.

“It’s okay, Mum. Even the letter will take time to be delivered; it will eventually arrive. James tried to cheer up Harriet; even Aemond nodded in agreement.

“No, it’s not okay! There must be something.” Harriet starts pacing. "Floo—patronus—" she continued, mumbling a string of incoherent words, until she abruptly stopped and exclaimed, "Merlin's bollocks!"

Daemon laughed, not only at Harriet’s crude swear but also at Aemond’s and Ser Harrold’s shocked expression upon it.

Harriet swished her wand to summon her magical trunk. “Wait here!” she ordered before going inside it.

“Wha—!” Aemond’s jaw dropped upon seeing such a scene, unlike Ser Harrold, who had his share of shock back then when he accompanied Viserys to see inside of Harriet’s trunk.

James tried his best to explain how the trunk works, but it’s still unable to ease the brat’s surprise.

Daemon was about to tell James to take Aemond for a quick tour, but Harriet had already walked out the trunk. “Bless Hermione Granger and her overpacking habits!” She grinned.

Harriet approached the two boys and gave them a palm-size mirror in a silver ornate case. “This is called a two-way mirror,” she starts explaining. “All you need to do is just say the other person’s name into it, and you'll appear in the other mirror.”

“Aemond.” James said to his mirror.

Aemond gasped as his reflection in the mirror turned into James. “Seven hell!” he shouted.

“Mum, this is awesome!” James exclaimed, bouncing on his toes.

"Yes, but this is the only pair I own, so—" she swished her wand over the two mirrors, "—I shall place an unbreakable spell on it and hope neither of you would lose this precious object."

“We wouldn’t!” James said.

“I promise I will treasure this, Lady Harriet.” Aemond added.

Daemon sighs dramatically as he watches the two boys fuss over their mirrors. “And… they became best friends forever.” 

Harriet smacked Daemon’s arm in response. “Why are you so against their friendship?” she laughed.

“Me?” Daemon put his hand upon his heart and mocked a hurt look. “I wouldn't dare.”

Harriet laughed, “Aemond is a good and polite kid; he is not his father nor his grandfather.”

Daemon hummed in response, hoping that Harriet was correct and that Brat would remain true and not succumb to his grandfather's poisoned words.

Chapter Text

Highgarden - Daemon

“So half of Reach supports Aegon while the other half supports Rhaenyra.” Daemon stares at the map of Reach; there are green and black pawns scattered around the map. Green pawns clearly represent families close to Hightower, such as Peake, Fossoway, and Ambrose, while black pawns represent Tarly, Beesbury, and Caswell, known for their loyalty to Viserys.

“Now the only question is—” Daemon flicked Tyrell's golden rose from its pedestal before reaching two roses, one in green and one in black. “—What side will the lord paramount of Reach choose?”

Garland Tyrell put the golden rose pawn back to its position. “Tyrell will support you, my prince.” He answered.

Daemon bark laughs, "And what if I decide to leave all this chaos and move to my comfortable villa in Volantis?"

“Then Tyrell will support the victorious side.” Garland answered with no uncertainty.

Daemon laughed even more, saying, "Oh classic Tyrell, your ancestor uses the same trick to gain Aegon's favor, doesn't he?"

“Yes, and I intend to do the same to gain your favor.” Garland admitted.

Daemon’s temple twitches upon Garland’s honesty, which is unusual for Lords of the Seven Kingdoms, who always hide their true intentions at all costs.

“I'm dying; my prince and my son and heir were only a babe. If I pass, I will leave him and my lady wife defenseless.”

Daemon arches an eyebrow at him.

“It’s the truth, my prince, my body failing, and I will die by the end of the year.” Garland continues, “Illness is untreatable; many renowned healers have tried to cure me, but the illness remains the same.”

Daemon's expression hardened; he didn’t expect this kind of twist.

“No need to mourn me, my prince. What I need from you is your support for my son and wife after my passing.”

A faint frown forms on Daemon’s forehead. He was slightly perplexed as to why Garland was in such dire need of his support. Then, his gaze fell upon a painting of Garland's father, Lord Harland II Tyrell, who was well-known for favoring his bastard over his true-born son and nearly driving Tyrell into ruin. Suddenly, everything made sense to him. Daemon scoffed, "Are you afraid that your bastard brother, Harland the Young, might challenge your son's succession?"

“It's not merely a possibility, my prince; I wholeheartedly believe that Harland would do exactly that the moment I draw my last breath.”

No matter how much your late father favored Harland, he had no claim on Highgarden. Daemon tapped the Hightower pawn, stating, "As much as the Hightower wanted the Lord Paramount of the Reach title for themselves, they cannot rob that title from your family."

“They can't; they could only turn a blind eye if my son somehow died mysteriously and let an incompetent person like Harland rule my house to the ground.” Garland clenched his fist. "I didn't rescue my family from the verge of ruin only to face humiliation once more."

“Then why not just support Rhaenyra?”

“If one bastard were allowed to claim their sire’s ancestral seat, what made another bastard not attempt to do so?” Garland asked.

“My niece—”

“Is the laughingstock of the entire Seven Kingdoms, my prince. She lacked both political power and integrity, prompting even the lowly mummer to dare to openly mock her in the streets of her keep.” Garland scoffed, “All she had was her father’s words and her lineage. Are you certain that someone would take her seriously, even if she sat on an iron throne with a shiny crown on her head?”

Daemon's jaw hardened because he could not deny Garland’s statement. “You're speaking of treason right now, Garland.”

“And what could the crown do, my prince? Execute me? Feeding me to the princess’ dragon?”

“Garland…” Daemon warns him.

“I only speak the truth, my prince; Princess Rhaenyra’s reign will build on sand, and if she chooses violence like most Targaryens do, it will end in death, so many deaths.” Garland traced his finger over the golden rose pawn. "How many noble deaths do you think it takes to ignite a rebellion?"

“You’re mad.” Daemon spat.

Garland smiled at Daemon, “I am. The strange thing about dying is the closer you are with it, the more indifferent you are about everything.”

"Garland, killing yourself wouldn't help your son's case."

“I am fully aware; however, I'll make sure my death isn't in vain.” Garland responded, still smiling.

Daemon scowl. “My support will not necessarily remove every threat to your son's life.”

“Yet your support will definitely eliminate half or most of the possible threats to my son's life.” 

Daemon shook his head in annoyance; there’s no point in arguing with this stubborn dying man.

“Dad! There you are!” James shouted upon seeing Daemon entering the chamber.

“Am I missing something?” Daemon chuckled upon receiving James’ frantic greeting.

“Yes! Something just happened in King’s Landing!”

Daemon grimaced upon hearing the mention of King's Landing. “Unless the capital is engulfed in flame, I don’t want to hear anything about it.”

“Dad! Be serious a bit!”

“I’m being serious.” Daemon expressed this while pouring himself a cup of wine. “Nothing is important there.”

James groaned, “It’s important! Uncle King collapses upon receiving news about our abrupt departure.

Daemon's heart skipped a beat; he tightened his grip upon the wine canter to ensure the thing did not slip from his trembling hand.

‘Is he dead? Did his brother die because of him?’ The question is unspoken.

“Uncle is recovering now after being unconscious for almost two days.” James continues.

“Pity,” Daemon responded nonchalantly, completely masking his relief.

“Dad!” James protests while Harriet looks disapprovingly at him.

“What?” Daemon asked with a smirk.

James rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Mum, what do you see in Dad, really? Beside his face, of course.”

“Oy!” Daemon protested while Harriet laughed and embraced James fondly.

James stuck his tongue out at Daemon.

“Cheeky boy.” Daemon laughed.

“There’s something you forgot to tell your dad.” Harriet said before kissing James’ cheek.

As he settled beside Harriet, Daemon asked, "There is?"

“Oh yeah! Uncle King has dismissed Otto Hightower and appointed Lyonel Strong as his new hand of King.”

Daemon barked a laugh, “Now that's good news!”

James huffed, “Brother Aemond said Uncle King dismissed Otto because he thinks his proposal to betroth me to Helaena is the reason we are leaving.”

“Let's keep it that way so Otto wouldn’t be able to slither his way back to Viserys’ side.” Daemon hummed happily.

James looked surprised. “That's not the reason?”

“It would only become an offense if that prick proposes to marry one of his andal nieces to you, my cheeky dragon.” Daemon flicked James’ nose. "Helaena may be a little off in the head, but she is still a princess and Targaryen on top of that," Daemon said, making the boy scowl.

“You're being cruel again, Dad.” James punched Daemon’s arm. “Helaena is not a little off in the head; she’s—”

“She is what, James?” Daemon arches his eyebrow challengingly at James.

“She's just different!” James blurted out.

Daemon opens his mouth, but he catches Harriet’s stern glare and lifts his goblet of wine in a surrendering manner. “Yes, dear, I shall not tease our son further.” 

Harriet shook her head. “So what took you so long with Lord Tyrell?”

“Ah! About that, James, I need you to be Little Lyonel’s sworn brother.” Daemon announces.

“But why? Lyonel is merely a baby. What if he didn’t like being my sworn brother when he was older?”

“My silly dragon.” Daemon huffed a laugh. “You are Jaehaerys Targaryen, rider of Ancalagon the Black, Grand Prince of seven kingdoms; only a fool would not like being your sworn brother.”

James scrunched his nose, looking all uncertain, then his confusion morphed into a suspicious frown at Daemon. “Dad, what did you not tell me?”

Daemon laughed, “Why did you think I hid something from you?”

"Because you would never give consent to such a situation. You did not even approve Uncle Davos's request to make me Qyle's sworn brother."

Daemon chuckled upon realizing how his silly and slightly too trusting son had become more perceptive and critical these days; maybe his friendship with Aemond was not a bad thing after all. “Qyle is—”

“A prince and little Lyonel are merely a lord.”

“Not merely a lord but a lord paramount of—”

“Dad, just tell me what's going on.” James insists.

“You sure you want to know?” Daemon teases.

James folded his arms in front of his chest and looked at Daemon with the most deviant look he could muster.

Daemon laughed before whispering low enough just for Harriet and James to hear. “ The truth is, there are many people who want that baby to be dead— ” 

Both Harriet and James gasped in horror, “ Someone wants that innocent baby to die?! ” Harriet asked in disbelief.

“— With you being his sworn brother, it will give him safety, ” Daemon continued, “ Not completely safe, but our protection will hinder most of the threat. ”

“Why do you say it sooner?!” James fumed, "I should become little Lyonel's sworn brother!" He declared.

Daemon ruffled James's hair; his boy may have looked like him, but his tender heart was certainly Harriet’s.

Arbor — Harriet.

Harriet feels sluggish like she never felt before; she tried a couple of healing spells, like the stamina charm, but nothing works.

“Mum, what's wrong? Are you sick?.” James asked.

Harriet smiles at his son, “No, I'm fine, James.”

“You sure, mum?” James asks again. “You’re quite pale, you know?”

“James, right, my love, you are quite pale.” Daemon added.

“You two worry too much; I'm perfectly fi—” Suddenly Harriet vomited her entire stomach content onto the grass; it was so bizarre, even enough to make both Caraxes and Ancalagon quickly scamper away.

Everything went hazy; both James and Daemon quickly tended to her, Daemon keeping her steady as James offered her fresh water.

“No sign of poisoning.” Nessela, Harriet's handmaiden, said.

“James, Nessela, go to the Redwyne's castle, tell the servant to prepare the room, and call the Maesters; I’m right behind you two.” Daemon ordered as he swooped Harriet from her feet and carried her with both hands.

The sudden movement violently brought back her nausea.

“If you want to vomit, just vomit, Harry.” Daemon told her as he paced toward the Redwyne’s castle.

Harriet gagged a couple of times while shaking her head.

“Don’t be so stubborn; just let it out; it will ease your stomach.”

Harriet shook her head again while covering her mouth with both hands. She refused to vomit on her husband.

“Stubborn woman.” Daemon spat frustratedly.

“Congratulations, my prince.” The Redwyne's Maester said this after he had finished examining Harriet.

"My wife is sick, and you're congratulating me?" Daemon asked. Daemon roughly grabbed Maester’s collar. "You want to die?" Daemon yanked the man until he tiptoed away.

The Maester instantly went pale as paper. “Mercy, my prince, I don’t mean disrespect!” The Maester, frantically on his toes, exclaims, "Lady not sick; she is pregnant!"

“Oh?” Daemon abruptly released the maester collar, making the man stumble and land on his bottom.

Daemon carefully approached Harriet and then put his hand gently upon her stomach. "We only discussed it a month ago," he whispered, his expression still filled with disbelief.

"I know; I didn't even consider the possibilities." Harriet chuckled.

Daemon cupped both Harriet’s cheeks. “You make me so happy, my love.”

“Don’t kiss me; my mouth still tastes terrible.” Harriet cautioned Daemon as he inched closer.

Daemon just laughed it off and kissed her deeply.

Harriet heard the door swing open, accompanied by James's voice, “It’s true?! I’m going to be big— Ew! Dad! Stop kissing Mum!”

Both Harriet and Daemon laughed as their lips parted.

James quickly climbed the bed and sat beside Harriet. “I am going to be a big brother?”

“Yes.” Harriet smiled at his son.

“Which one will I get? Brother or sister?”

“It’s too early to tell, James.”

James scrunched his nose. “Well, it doesn’t matter; brother or sister, I will be the best big brother ever!” he declared happily.

Daemon ruffled Jame’s untamed silver hair. “I’m sure you will, little dragon.”

"I am going to be a big brother, Dad; you are no longer allowed to refer to me as Little Dragon!" James protests.

Daemon barked a laugh. “Fine point there.”

“Just call for me if you need anything else, my lady.” Nessela offered a small bouquet of bitter orange tree blossoms to alleviate her nausea.

“I will, thank you, Nessela.” Harriet smiled at her handmaiden.

“Anytime, my lady.” Nessela responded before leaving Harriet alone with James.

"James, what has been bothering you?" Harriet asked before sniffing the bouquet; the refreshing scent quickly eased her nausea that had been lingering since she woke up this morning.

“Mum,”

“Yes, dear?”

“Why do you always ask for my opinion?”

"Because I value your opinions and feelings." She smiled at her son, “Why do you ask?”

James moved to lie beside Harriet. “Brother Aemond said Uncle King and the queen never ask his opinion about anything; he was quite surprised when I said you asked if I wanted a sibling before you decided to get pregnant.” He started playing with Harriet’s hand. “You think Unle King and the Queen didn’t think brother Aemond was important?”

“Ah—” Harriet finally grasped the situation. “Honestly, I cannot say what the king or queen thinks about their children; every parent is different after all.”

James hummed, “I’m glad you are my mum.”

“And I am glad you’re my son.” Harriet kissed Jame’s forehead, “You’re the best son any parent could hope for.”

James scooted closer to hug Harriet. “Brother Aemond said he doesn’t even have an opinion on what clothes he is going to wear. It’s so strange to know.”

"Well, I'm not surprised; he's a king's son, and maintaining his appearance is important because it represents the royal family."

James pursed his lips. “Dad—”

“Never care about other people's opinions and love to do anything that could cause trouble for your uncle.”

James snorted, “Seriously, Mum, what do you see in Dad, really?”

“I told you, your father is the most interesting man I ever encountered in my life,” Harriet chuckled. “He’s kind in his own way, brave, and fiercely protective of people he loves.”

James made a face that instantly made Harriet laugh even more, “But he likes to make people think he’s bad and ruthless.”

“It's easier to live if you are feared than loved, my dear.”

“But it’s tiring to always be cautious and constantly questioning people’s motives.” James huffed.

“Lucky for us we have your dad to do that for us.” Harriet touched the tip of James’ nose, making him snicker.

Chapter Text

 Arbor — Harriet 

“Most of the lords of the Reach had solidified their choice, so which side are you on, Runceford?” Daemon asked so casually upon their supper.

“A minor house like us would simply need to wait for instructions from our overlord, my prince.” Runceford Redwyne answered diplomatically.

Daemon's eyes glinted mischievously; he looked like a big cat, playing with his prey. Harriet immediately feeling bad to the lord; Daemon would destroy his fake calmest. “I happened to hear that your lady mother, Lady Desmera, hates my niece.”

Veins on Runceford’s temple twitched violently, but to Harriet's surprise, the lord managed to keep his expression straight. “It's just a little misunderstanding, my prince.”

“Really?” Daemon hummed before sipping his wine. “I don’t think it was a misunderstanding at all.”

“My prince?” Runceford starts to stammer.

“I'm well aware how frustrated your poor old mother was at the time, considering how many Redwyne ships and precious commodities were lost during the Triarchy siege at Stepstone.”

“My prince, that…”

“Your poor old mother said And I quote,The crown is at war, princess. Though your father refuses to admit it, we have been dragged into it by his indecisiveness.”

Both Lady and Lord Redwyne instantly turn pale as ghosts.

“And my niece, in retaliation, said, and I quote again, ‘And how do you serve the realm of the late Lady Redwyne by eating cake?” Daemon chuckled, “She said it in front of the queen and all the court ladies, am I correct?”

“My prince, that—”

“Am I correct, Runceford?!” Daemon asked in a high tone.

Runceford's fork slipped from his trembling hand. “You are… correct, my prince…”

“And am I also correct to assume that your mother still feels humiliated even to this day?”

Runceford shut his eyes, like a criminal waiting for his execution. “…You’re correct, my prince.”

“Then I assume the Redwyne will pledge their support to Aegon even if Tyrell declares their support for Rhaenyra.”

Runceford took a shaking breath.

Daemon slammed his fist on the table, making both Lady and Lord Redwyne jump from their seats. “Every person in this realm is aware of how I feel about a liar, and you still dare to lie in my face?!”

Harriet leaned back in her chair, enjoying the chaos.

Runceford and his wife Magna immediately drop to their knees and beg for Daemon’s forgiveness and promise that they would pledge their support to Rhaenyra.

“What?” Daemon laughed, “I would care less what side you choose to support. What I demand from you is your honesty!”

Runceford blinked in surprise. “You don’t?”

“I don’t.” Daemon confirmed.

“But you doted on the princess and hated Otto Hightower, I thought—”

“I still hate Otto, and for Rhaenyra—” Daemon glanced at Harriet then chuckled.

Runceford blinked hard. “So you want to say you wouldn’t support either Princess Rhaenyra or Prince Aegon?”

“Correct.” Daemon said before taking another sip of his wine.

Suddenly Magna, Lady Redwyne shouted. “You can't!” 

“I can’t?” Daemon laughed.

“Forgive my rudeness, my prince.” Magna lowered his gaze while clutching her dress till her fist turned white. “Your disinvolvement will merely extend the conflict and bring harm to the realm.”

“Magna!” Runceford warns his wife to back down.

Daemon lifts his finger to shut Runceford, “Why do you think my involvement will do anything in a future civil war?”

Magna glanced at her husband.

Daemon flicked his finger. “Ah—ah—don’t look at your husband, Lady Redwyne; eyes on me.”

Magna hesitantly turns her head to Daemon.

“It seems that you have opinions on the future civil war, and I want to hear your wisdom.”

Magna chews on her lip; Harriet feels sorry for her, but she already promised Daemon that she would never intervene in this kind of situation.

“Come on, Lady Redwyne, don’t be shy.”

“My prince, please spare my wife; she—”

“is a person with her own opinion, and I want to hear whatever she wants to say.” Daemon told Runceford sternly, making the man shut his mouth immediately.

Magna’s eyes widened. “I… I think it's better for you to announce your support, my prince. Your support will definitely shut down the potential civil war, sparing the realm from an unnecessary bloodbath.”

Daemon chuckled. “You give me too much credit, my lady; I am only an exiled prince with no political power.”

Magna rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Your false modesty is very unbecoming, my prince; you know exactly how much power you hold with Caraxes, The Cannibal, and your lady wife’s magic!”

“Power is nothing without political support—”

“Forgive me, my prince, but if you decide to make yourself king right now, I wager that no houses except Velaryon and Hightower would dare to oppose your reign.”

“I like her.” Harriet chuckled.

Daemon nodded amusingly, “Redwyne’s woman honesty is indeed delightful.”

“Dad! Mum!” James entered the dining room in a hurry, followed by Nessela, who looked calm.

"What's wrong?" Daemon asks, practically leaping from his seat and rushing towards James.

“I just talked with Brother Aemond—”

Daemon's face looks indifferent, but Harriet could tell he is currently bracing for terrible news.

“—He said Lady Laena died in childbirth, his son did not survive, and there will be a funeral in Driftmark soon.”

“Oh…” Daemon blinked his worry away. “I see. Thank you for informing us.” He said while ruffling James’ hair.

“Will we go to Driftmark to pay our respects?” James asked.

Daemon glanced at Harriet, and she answered with a shrug. “We will if we were invited.” He answered.

James scrunched his nose. “Since when do Daemon Targaryen need an invitation?”

Daemon barks a laugh, “You cheeky boy.” He pinched both James’ cheeks. “You just want to meet with Aemond again, don’t you?”

James gives a cheeky smile.

"Fine, we're leaving, but I need to write to Corlys first so that old man can prepare for our arrival."

“Okay!” James answered cheerfully.

“Now return to our chamber with Nessela; your mum and I will catch up soon.”

James nodded, “Good night, Lord and Lady Redwyne!” He said politely to their host.

“Good night, Grand Prince Jaehaerys.” Answer the two of them.

After James and Nessela leave the dining room, Daemon returns to his seat. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Redwyne, Lord Redwyne.” He said with sudden formality.

“You leaving, my prince?” Ruceford asks in shock.

“Well, it's challenging to stay when you cannot trust your host.” Daemon spoke before wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I—”

“You lied to my face, Runceford.” Runceford is reminded by Daemon as he tosses the napkin onto his plate.

“They only do what they have to do, my love.” Harriet told Daemon.

“An unnecessary self-preservation.”

“Be a little considerate, my love. If I had two overgrown dragons sleeping on my lawn, I would also lie to keep my guest happy.” Harriet smiled at Magna.

Daemon glared at Harriet, silently urging her to stop trying to make him laugh. “Well, we still need to leave; there are arrangements we need to make with the Celtigar.”

Harriet nearly burst out laughing as she observed Runceford's ears perk up upon hearing the information. “Oh? I had assumed we would be staying with the Martells again. Harriet spoke slyly, trying her best to ignore Runceford's obvious interest.

Daemon’s jaw tensed as he tried to not laugh, “I'm not adding new debt to our tab while we just settle it when we help them with their pirates problem.”

"So the rumors about the second field of fire were true?" exclaimed Runceford.

Daemon arched his eyebrows at Runceford.

Runceford winced. "There are rumors about you and the Grand Prince turning the Sunset Sea into a second field of fire as you burn the entire fleet of remaining Triarchy pirates who seek revenge on the Martells, my prince," Runceford said.

“Field of fire on an open sea? What a ridiculous rumor.”

Harriet nodded, "Yes, a fire cannot continue to burn on a body of water."

“Except fire made out of magic.” Daemon chough, which sent Runceford and Magna's eyes bulging in surprise.

Harriet smacked Daemon’s arm. “Come now, James must be already waiting impatiently in our chamber.”

Daemon obediently stood up and stretched his hand to Harriet, “Good night, Lady Redwyne, Lord Redwyne.”

“Thank you for hosting us.” Harriet continued as she took Daemon's hand.

“Yes—yes, of course, my prince, my lady.” Runceford stammered as he struggled to overcome his shock.

Claw Isle—James

“By the old gods and new! I thought Caraxes was already massive enough!” Lord Alton Celtigar shouted as he marveled over Ancalagon's majestic appearance.

“Yes, he is. I think he has surpassed Vhagar in size.” His dad said this while greeting the lord of Claw Isle with a hearty hug.

“Bigger than Vhagar? Good gods!” Lord Celtigar gasped, “I hope the pigs that I already prepared are enough to keep them happy.” He starts looking worried.

“You don’t have to worry, Lord Celtigar; Caraxes and Ancalagon used to hunt their own meal to keep their instincts sharp.” James told the lord of Claw Isle.

Worry immediately dissipated from the Valyrian lord’s face once the lord of Claw Isle laid his eyes on James. “We finally met, Grand Prince Jaehaerys; those eyes of yours truly reminded me of your late grandmother, Princess Alyssa.”

“Greetings, Lord Celtigar, thank you for hosting us.” James answered politely.

“Oh praise the old gods and new! I am truly relieved that our beloved grand prince has inherited positive traits from his lady mother. Having another good-looking rogue prince would be the end of the world." Lord Celtigar teases Dad.

“Fuck you, old man!” Dad laughed as he shoved Lord Celtigar’s shoulder playfully.

Lord Celtigar laughed as he walked to hug Mum. “My lady Harriet! You look radiant; pregnancy truly suits you.”

“Thank you, Alton.” Harriet smiled at the lord.

Dad and Lord Alton talked all the way to the castle; their conversation was light till at some point Lord Celtigar mentioned the upcoming funeral: “There’s a rumor that Corlys would accompany his granddaughter Rhaena to claim Vhagar after the funeral.”

"How many times must I reiterate that inheriting a dragon is not a viable option?" Corly's greed would ultimately lead him to bury his granddaughter next to his daughter. Dad spat angrily. 

“Corlys claimed that Vhagar had become familiar with Lady Rhaena since her late mother always brought her to fly with her.”

“You well aware If things went that way, Caraxes would end up with Rhaenys and Meleys with me, not the other way around," Dad said. “Dragons choose their own rider, just like Ancalagon chooses James, not the other way around.”

“The Hightower urged the King to forbid Corlys to do so, but—”

"But my foolish brother continues to allow people to do whatever they want as long as it would keep his fake peace intact." Dad spat.

Lord Celtigar sighs, then looks at Dad.

“No, I won't waste my breath talking sense to my idiot brother.” Dad responds immediately.

“You are the only one who could address the matter to the king, Daemon.” Lord Celtigar urged.

“Nope, won’t do.” Dad said stubbornly.

“Don’t tell me you're still upset about the marriage proposal between the Grand Prince and Princess Helaena.”

“I do.” Dad lied.

“The king just wants the best for Jaehaerys. He is a Grand Prince of this realm; he may not have a seat on the succession, but he is a prince, part of the royal family.” 

James glanced at his mum, and she just shook her head.

"You may forget, but I spent decades trapped in a horrible arranged marriage." Under any circumstance, I wouldn’t condemn my precious son to the same fate. James will marry whomever he chooses, no matter if it is a man, woman, noble, or even peasant; my son is free to choose his spouse.”

“Peasants are a bit too much, Daemon.”

“Nothing is too much.” Daemon smirked.

Lord Celtigar huffed exhaustively before changing their topic into a lighter one.

Chapter Text

Driftmark — Aemond

Aemond felt his heart almost leap out of his chest when he saw the Cannibal, now known as Ancalagon the Black, and Caraxes flying low over the Draftmark castle. He had been talking with James almost every night through the enchanted mirror; however, for some reason, he still longed to see his little cousin in person again.

“My brother is here!” The king announced merrily.

“The freaks are here.” Aegon slurred upon his god knows how many wine goblets he already drained.

“You watch your words, Aegon; Daemon kills a man for less than an insult,” Aemond reminded his drunken brother.

Aegon's lips thin out, the harsh reminder seeming a bit sober to him.

“You don’t have to receive Prince Daemon personally, your grace; the King's Guard will escort him to you.” Aemond’s grandfather urged the king to remain seated.

“No!” The king refused vehemently, “I couldn’t risk angering him again!” He said while making his way toward the beach.

Ser Harrold, two more King’s guards, are quickly trailing before the King, and Aemond silently joins them before his mother or his grandfather are able to stop him.

“There they are, my favorite family member!” The king shamelessly greeted Daemon and his family with open arms.

“Viserys.” Daemon reluctantly hugs the king.

“I'm so happy seeing you here, brother.”

“I can’t say I share the same sentiment—” Daemon responded, which immediately made the king's face fall and upset the king's guard, “—as you know, I hate funerals; it never fails to dread my mood.” He continued smoothly.

Classic Daemon Targaryen always makes fun of the king.

Hearing that, the King's expression instantly brightens. “No one likes funerals, Daemon.”

When James finally saw Aemond, he shouted, "Brother!" He ran straight toward him and gave him a hearty hug, to which Aemond responded awkwardly due to the large crowd.

“Oh? I didn’t know that Aemond and Jaehaerys were close.” The king looked genuinely surprised.

“Why am I not surprised?” Daemon chuckled.

The king frowned at Daemon.

“What I meant, brother, you clueless It's the sign you need to start talking with your own son, Viserys.” Daemon spoke as he guided the King back toward the castle.

“I talk with my son!”

Lied, Aemond rolled his eyes.

“Random greetings and small talk before a meal didn’t count as a conversation, Viserys.” Daemon chuckled, “Did you ever know what Aemond's favorite color is? Or his favorite food?”

King’s lip turns into a thin line when he is unable to deny Daemon’s statement, and it strangely makes Aemond’s mood brighter.

“Did you know Aemond loves black and red like a true-born Targaryen should; however, his dearest grandfather and mother forbid him to wear clothes in our color?”

King halted abruptly, his eyes widening as he asked Aemond, "Is that true, Aemond?"

Aemond swallowed hard, sweat forming on his forehead. Must he tell the truth? What would happen if his grandfather found out that he had exposed him to the king? Will his mother be disappointed with him? Aemond's gaze darted towards everyone present, finally settling on Daemon, who reassured him with a nod. “…It’s…It’s true, your grace.”

The king looked like he just swallowed a whole bitter lemon.

The rest of the journey to the castle was filled with the king's awkward random questions and Daemon's gleeful chuckle; the blasted man seems to be enjoying the mess he created way too much.

As soon as they reached the castle's courtyard, people flocked towards them, resembling a pack of vultures at the sight of a pile of meat.

Aemond almost starts panicking, but James swiftly grabs his hand and pulls him away from the crowd.

“Don’t wander too far; the rites will begin soon.” Lady Harriet informed James in Valyrian, "Also don't forget to express your condolences to the Velaryons if you encounter any of them."

“Okay, Mum.” James smiled before dragging Aemond away from the crowd.

“Dad likes toying with them, the nobles I mean.” James told Aemond.

“Your father likes making fools out of people; it's like a sport to him.” Aemond looked at James. “You didn’t like it?”

“No, Dad only makes a fool out of people who deserve it; Dad is never cruel to his friends.”

“He had a friend?” Aemond feigns shock.

James shoves Aemond’s shoulder playfully, making him laugh.

“James.” Helaena greeted them with her usual dreamy voice.

“Sister, you look well.” James returned the greeting softly.

“I am,” Helaena smiles. “Your mother, is she well?”

“Healthy but cannot wait to give birth; she said my baby sibling kicked her inside too much.” James answered while rummaging through his bag.

Helaena chuckled, “Have you already prepared yourself to have such a willful sister?”

James and Aemond gaped at Helaena, and the princess just smiled at them.

“Is that true?” Aemond asked James.

“It is! Did the fairy pay you a visit again, sister?” James chuckled as he fished out two small wooden boxes from his bag. 

“Ah…Bloodflies and lantern bugs, thank you, James.” Helaena spoke before even receiving the wooden box.

“You’re welcome, dear sister. Be careful with the bloodflies, though.” James said this as he handed over the wooden box.

“I will.” 

As she begins to play with her new bug, Helaena starts muttering something about green and black spools and dragon flesh.

"Do you have any idea what she is talking about? She had been muttering the words ever since the announcement of Lady Laena's death." Aemond asked James in hope he could understand Helaena.

James shrugged. “I don’t know; Mum said seers often said unintelligible things like Helaena does.”

Amond blinked at James. “You think Helaena is a seer?”

“There’s a possibility. Mum and Dad believe the Targaryens are a long line of squibs.”

“Wizard-born who had no magic power?”

“Yes, you read Dad's book, right? There are many Valyrians who could do magic back then.”

“Then why didn't magic return to our blood after hundreds of years had passed since the doom?”

“I'm afraid I don’t have answers for that, brother.”

Aemond sighs, “Forget about it. Let’s go find Lady Laena’s daughter; you promised your mother to give your condolences.”

“Let's.” James nodded.

“Lady Rhaena, I want to offer my condolences.” James softly spoke to Rhaena, who appeared disheveled; her eyes and nose were red, her face slightly swollen as if she had been crying for days. Why is there no one tending to this girl? This pitiful girl may be in the lowest ranking among the royal family, but she was still a noble! She should have at least one maid to maintain her appearance.

Rhaena stares at James for a moment before slowly reaching out to accept James’s handshake. Before they could shake hands, someone slapped James' hand away, causing him to hiss in pain.

“Stay away from our cousin, you freak!” Lucerys said as Jacaerys shoved James.

Aemond quickly caught James so he wouldn’t fall to the ground.

"What in the name of Salazar is your problem?" James asks in disbelief at both Rhaenyra's bastards.

“Ignore them, James. Don’t waste your breath on those jealous bastards.” Aemond told James in Valyrian.

“Ignored them? They attacked me unprovoked. They also called me names, Aemond!”

“Like I said, they are just jealous of you, of us.”

"Why do we have to feel jealous of a freak and dragonless Targaryen?" Jacaerys questioned. Jacaerys scoffed.

Aemond admitted the statement stung quite badly; he took a deep breath and then spoke, “Because someone who somehow looks Andal despite having two Valyrian parents must envy James and me, who look completely Valyrian, despite only having one Valyrian parent.” Aemond bit back on the place he knew would hurt the worst.

James muffled his surprised gasp with both his hands. Aemond is enjoying the sight of the two bastards, who now resemble ugly rotten tomatoes.

“They are also jealous of your magic and the fact that the king favors you more than them.” Aemond sprinkles more salt upon the fresh wound, savoring Jacaerys’ hurt.

Aemond was on the verge of launching another retort but hesitated when he noticed Ser Harrold approaching them.

“Grand Prince Jaehaerys, Prince Aemond, and Lady Harriet are looking for the two of you.” Ser Harrold informed the two of them.

“Thank you, Ser Harrold. Can you lead us?” James asked while tugging Aemond.

“Of course, Grand Prince, please follow me.”

James

The funeral was really dreadful. James watched silently beside his mum and dad as the Velaryon knights prepared Lady Laena's coffin to be drowned. 

“We join today at the seat of the sea to commit the lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King, where He will guard her for all the days to come as she sets to the sea for her final voyage—" Vaemond Velaryon, Cirilla's soon-to-be father-in-law, opens the funeral rites in Valyrian.

James glanced at his dad, who absentmindedly rubbed Mum’s stomach while Mum leaned on him for support. 

“Lady Laena leaves one true-born daughter on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will all remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood—” 

Vaemond directed a hateful stare at Jacaerys and Lucerys, who were standing with their mother, Princess Rhaenyra, and their father, Ser Laenor Velaryon, who appeared completely distraught. Aemond told him that Lady Laena and Ser Laenor were close. “Ours run thick, ours runs true, and ours must never thin—”

Hearing that, Dad unexpectedly erupts into laughter, making people who understand Valyrian start to look uncomfortable, especially the king and Princess Rhaenyra. 

“Daemon!” Mum hissed angrily at Dad, who was still visibly shaking from holding his laughter.

Mum quickly gives silent apologies to Vaemond Velaryon.

Vaemond calmly nodded at Mum, “My gentle niece, may the winds be as strong as your back, your seas as calm as your spirit, and your nets be as full as your heart—” 

The Velaryons begin throwing salt onto Lady Laena's coffin as two knights tug on the rope.

“From the sea we came, to the sea we shall return.” Vaemond ended his rites, and the coffin finally fell to the bottom of the sea.

Sometimes after the rites end, Uncle Viserys approaches Dad; their conversation is light till Uncle says. “It’s time that you came home, Daemon; you should return with us to King’s Landing.”.

“Not this again, Viserys. I told you—”

“Daemon…” Uncle Viserys sighs exhaustively, “I know we’ve had our differences, but let them pass with the years. There’s a place for you in my court, if that’s something you should need.”

Dad scoffed, “I need nothing from you, your grace; I already have everything I want.” Dad said this with finality, leaving no room for further conversation.

When the tension between his dad and Uncle Viserys grew awkwardly, James tugged on his dad's sleeve and asked, “Can I introduce Brother Aemond to Ancalagon now?” 

“Yes, but no flying.” Dad answered sternly.

“Okay!” James chimed in.

Aemond sucked in his breath and exclaimed, "Seven's Hells!" upon seeing Ancalagon up close.

"This is Aemond, my brother, part of our family." James told Ancalagon in Valyrian.

Ancalagon took one more glance at Aemond, then proceeded to close his eyes and lay his head on the sand.

“You want to touch him?” James asks.

“Did I want to touch him?!” Aemond shouted in disbelief at James, “Of course I want to!”

James laughed; he carefully guided Aemond’s hand to lay flat upon Ancalagon’s black scales.

Aemond gasped, “It’s so warm!”

James grinned widely.

Ancalagon suddenly let out a low rumble that instantly made Aemond pull his hand off the dragon’s scales. “Did I make a mistake?” He quietly asked.

“No, it's not an angry growl; it's just like… umm… coughing?”

“Oh.” Aemond felt a bit embarrassed by his exaggerated reaction. “What is Ancalagon's favorite food? The dragon keeper at Dragon Pit said, Each dragon is different.

“Ancalagon and Caraxes like to hunt whales because they have a lot of meat and fats. Caraxes once attempted to consume a Leviathan, but he was only able to bite off a small portion of the monster's flesh.

“Caraxes did what?!”

James laughed, “And for snacks, Dad usually gives thirty pigs for each dragon every week.” He continued.

Aemond’s eyes widened in surprise. That meant two hundred and forty pigs a month. “All those pigs, and they still hunt for whales?”

James nodded. “Mum said dragons need to hunt to keep their instincts sharp. Dragons who spend their days being fed and chained will not grow, turn docile, and practically become useless.”

“I see.” Aemond hummed as he made a mental note of each piece of information James told him about how to care for a dragon. “How come your mother possessed more knowledge than a seasoned dragon keeper who dedicated their whole life to taking care of a dragon?” Aemond asked on their way back to the castle, the sun already set, they should hurry back.

“Because in the wizarding world, the dragon is only another magical creature. Wizards can study dragons, dissect them, and even use their body parts for potions, clothes, wand cores, and other purposes if they have the necessary permits." James repeated his mother's answer. “Illegal poacher still sent to Azkaban, though.”

“I still can’t believe you're using dragonhide boots.” Aemond scowled.

“Mum, bring this from the wizarding world.” James showed off his shiny boots.

“It’s still a blasphemy, punishable by death.”

James can’t help but laugh.

"It's not funny, James; if my grandfather knew he could use the information to stir up trouble for your mother!"

“Yeah, if he knew Mum used dragon’s blood to make potions, clean ovens, and remove stains, he would definitely declare Mum a sinner and enemy of the realm.” James snickered.

Aemond smacked the back of James’ head. “Stop laughing! No one could know about your mother’s… illicit affairs.”

“Illicit affairs! Ha!” James burst out laughing. “You really have an interesting choice of words, brother!”

Aemond groaned and rolled his eyes.

An earthshaking roar kills James’ laughter. His eyes turned big when he saw Vhagar's silhouette fly straight toward them with its maw open wide. “Run!” James shouted.

They run until their lungs burn and their feet become too weak to support their body. With the last energy left in their body, they crawl to hide behind a small dune.

“Did we outrun her?” Aemond whispered.

“No one can outrun a dragon.” James whispered back; he waved his hand to cast a revelio to determine Vhagar's location.

Before they could properly cast the spell, Vhagar's head emerged from the side of the dune, his green reptile eye staring widely at them.

Aemond let out a muffled shriek while James took a sharp breath, silently casting a fire-freezing spell upon Aemond and himself, hoping it’s powerful enough to shield them from the she-dragon fire.

“Lykiri Vhagar.” Aemond suddenly said.

Vhagar halted; her gaze turned conflicted.

Seeing how Vhagar responded to his command, Aemond took a deep breath. “Lykiri Vhagar!” He repeated, more confident this time.

Vhagar drew back her head, squinting her reptilian eyes at Aemond.

Aemond stood up tall between James and Vhagar. “Dohaeras!” he yelled.

Vhagar released a menacing growl, a fire beginning to ignite within her.

James took a deep breath to brace himself.

“I said Dohaeras! Vhagar!” Aemond shouted; he even glared at the dragon.

Vhagar clasped her maw, and the fire inside her died down. She took one look at Aemon before shutting her eyes and laying down her head.

“No way!” James shouted in disbelief.

Aemond looks in a daze. “Did I…?”

“You can't! It's too risky! There are many things to learn before you are allowed to ride a dragon, especially one as big as Vhagar!” James insisted as he tried to pull Aemond away when he decided he wanted to ride Vhagar to complete their bond.

“I need to! I need to complete the bond!” Aemond insists.

“Vhagar has already chosen you, Aemond; your bond will not break even if you didn’t ride her right now!”

“You don’t understand!” 

James tightened his grip on Aemond’s wrist. “Vhagar will not go anywhere, Aemond; let us go back to visit her again tomorrow with my Mum and Dad.”

“No! This is my only chance!” Aemond swats James' hand, then runs toward the rope of Vhagar's saddle.

“Aemond!” James shrieked in horror as he watched Aemond climb upon Vhagar's massive saddle. What if the old dragon rolled to her side and squashed Aemond to death?! Oh Merlin! James' heart is pounding loudly in his ears. Should he cast a Patronus to summon her mother? No, he can't! Mum can’t apparate while pregnant; it will be too late!

James racked his brain; did he know any spell that could aid Aemond?

In the end James could only stare helplessly at Aemond, who was still struggling to climb onto Vhagar’s saddle.

James took a deep breath when Aemond finally sat upon Vhagar's saddle and said, "Strap yourself!" He shouted, but Aemond, clouded with thick adrenaline fog, seemed unable to hear him; instead, securing himself, Aemond grabbed the handle of Vhagar’s saddle. “Soves Vhagar! Soves!”

Vhagar suddenly opened her eyes and stood up.

“Nooo!” James yelled, “You forgot the strap! The strap!”

Vhagar flailed her wing, and the resulting gust of air forcefully knocked James onto his back.

James’ blood turned cold when he witnessed Vhagar take off to the sky with Aemond dangling free without any security.

“Oh gods! Merlin! Don’t let Aemond fall!” 

“I told you!” Aemond laughed gleefully as he approached James after he successfully landed Vhagar near the place he took off from before.

Still overwhelmed with dread, James slapped Aemond hard on his left cheek. “Wha—?!” Aemond's protest died down when he saw tears run down James' cheek.

“You could die!” James burst out crying, “You are not even strapping yourself to the saddle!”

“James—”

“My dad could teach you how to secure yourself on the saddle! My mum could catch you midair if you fall!” James screamed frustratingly at Aemond.

Aemond appeared stunned and quickly expressed guilt. “…I…sorry.”

“Save it!” James spat angrily before he stomped his way back to the castle.

“I'm really sorry to make you worry, James. I don’t think clearly.” Aemond responded, matching James' furious pace.

“Obviously.” James grumbled and still looked pissed.

"I feared the king would prohibit me from riding Vhagar due to his agreement to allow Lord Corlys..."

“Save your breath.” James spat.

“I know I make you worried, but can’t you at least be happy for me? I finally had a dragon! I'm a true Targaryen now! A dragon lord! No one will look down on me anymore!”

James stopped and stared directly at Aemond’s eyes. “With or without a dragon, you are still my brother. I never see you any less than that.”

Aemond fell silent.

The two of them stare at each other in silence until "Thief!" echoes off the cave wall. 

“Pardon?” James asked in confusion about the baseless accusation.

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” Rhaena screamed.

“Your mother is dead.” Aemond answered coldly. “And Vhagar has a new rider now.”

James gaped at Aemond, unprepared for such hostility from his stoic brother. James understands the strained relationship between Hightower and the Velaryons, yet Aemond's hostile behavior conceals something else.

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena yelled.

“That’s not true; dragon is not—”

“Then you should’ve claimed her!” Aemond yelled, drowning out James' protest. “Or maybe your cousin can find a pig to ride.” Aemond sneers at Lucerys, who instantly hides behind his brother Jacaerys; both look strangely guilty.

“Pig to ride?” James asked.

“I can’t believe you're still upset over a harmless prank!” Jacaerys said.

“A prank, you say? You humiliated me! You said you found a dragon that I could claim, but instead you brought me a pig with a fake wing attached to it.” Aemond gives Jacaerys a forceful shove, which causes him to stumble and collide with Lucerys, resulting in the boy falling onto his back.

“You two did what?!” James shouted angrily, his heart aching for his brother.

Suddenly, Rhaena pushed Aemond until he fell onto his ass. "It doesn't change the fact that you're a thief!" She yelled again.

“How dare you hurt my brother!” Jacaerys yelled next as he prepared to kick Aemond.

Before Jacaerys could do so, James shoved the boy hard, making him land on the cold stone ground beside his brother.

"You freak, how dare you push me!" Jacaerys cried out as he stood up.

“My brother is not a freak! You bastard!” Aemond screamed as his fist struck Jacaerys' jaw.

The fight finally broke off as the two brothers plus Rhaena jumped on Aemond.

James reached Rhaena, the one closer to her, and he slammed the girl to the ground and pinned her like his dad taught him.

Aemond kicked Jacaerys, then choked Lucerys, “You will die screaming in flames just like your father did! bastards!” Aemond spat angrily at Lucerys.

“My father is still alive!” Lucerys denied.

“He didn’t know—does that he, Lord Strong?”

Suddenly Jacaerys draws his blade.

“Drop the blade!” James orders while still trying to keep Rhaena still. 

“Shut up, freak!” Jacaerys shouted between his reckless attacks.

“James is not a freak!” Aemond spat.

“Cease this fight, please!” James pleaded. Yet his plea went to deaf ears; Jacaerys started slashing his blade toward Aemond aimlessly, not meaning to be less deadly.

Aemond manages to evade the attack and kick Jacaerys down.

The next thing happened in a flash: Jacaerys was on the ground, Aemond holding a huge rock over Jacaerys's head, and Lucerys, with Jacaerys's blade in hand, leaped toward Aemond, slashing him in the eye.

“No! Aemond!” James shrieked in horror as Aemond howled in pain.

James quickly releases Rhaena and runs to Aemond's side.

“No, no, no, no!” James cried, placing his hand over Aemond's bloodied hand, "Vulnera Sanentur! Episkey! Vulnera Sanentur!” James cast healing spells frantically. “Merlin, please!” James cried.

Chapter Text

Harriet.

“Leonor, you should eat.” Harriet urged the distraught man.

“I can’t, Harriet. I feel like Laena is taking half of my soul with her!" Laenor wails like a wounded puppy.

Harriet glared at Daemon when she saw him about to run his clever mouth. Daemon responded by pursing his lower lips and leaning on the wall.

Harriet sighs as she shakes her head. Why did her beloved husband enjoy kicking people when they were at their lowest?

“He's not sleeping properly; the nightmare keeps plaguing him.” Ser Joffey, Laenor’s lover, said.

Harriet grabs a draught of living death from her enchanted bag; the bottle is already half empty.

“Darling, that draught is precious.” Daemon warned him.

"We have a duty to help a friend, Daemon." Harriet answered.

"We still haven't succeeded in planting the sopophorous plant, darling; your inventory is dwindling." Daemon warned her once more.

“Muggle only needs a drop, my love.” Harriet drops one droplet of the draught into a glass of water and stirs it. “We still have plenty left, see?” she gives the bottle to Daemon.

“I confiscated this.” Daemon scowled as he put the bottle inside his breast pocket.

Harriet laughed as she urged Laenor to drink the water.

“You better drink till the last drop, Laenor; that water weighs tons of gold.” Daemon warned Laenor.

“Truly?” Ser Joffrey asked while Laenor absentmindedly drank the water; he seems too distraught to think.

“The draught brings upon its drinker a very powerful, dreamless, undisturbed sleep.” Harriet answered, “Laenor will sleep for a minimum of ten hours and a maximum of twenty hours; please don’t be alarmed.”

Once Laenor drank the whole glass, he immediately fell into Joffrey’s arms. “Oh!” Joffrey exclaimed happily when he noticed Laeenor snoring softly in his arm.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Harriet said to Joffrey.

“Of course, Lady Harriet, I can’t thank you enough.” Joffrey beamed.

Harriet responded by tapping Joffrey's shoulder before leaving the room with Daemon.

“You’re too kind for your own good, dearest.” Daemon grumble.

“Laenor is a friend in need, Daemon, and—” Harriet suddenly felt a kick on her ribs. “Good Morgana!” She cursed as she held her waist.

“Our little princess kick you again?” Daemon put his hand upon Harriet’s in worry.

“Little princess? This one is more like a Bludger for me.” Harriet scowled.

Daemon gasped, “How dare you compare our beautiful daughter to an ugly rabid iron ball?”

Harriet can’t help but laugh upon the statement, despite her aching ribs: “I have been hit by one, Daemon, and I swear to Merlin it's equally painful as this little one's kick.”

"Our daughter would not shatter your bones; however, there's a high chance that she could shatter your broom." Daemon shrugged.

Harriet smacked Daemon’s arm in spite.

Daemon laughed as he kissed Harriet’s cheek, “Just a few more months, my love, and your suffering will all be worth it.”

“I hope my kidney and liver are still intact till then.”

“Oh, my poor dearest.” Daemon kissed her lips. “You will be just fine.”

“Next time you carry the baby for nine months.” Harriet scowled.

"If I could, I would gladly shoulder your burden, my dearest." Daemon is clearly making fun of her.

Harriet sneered at him, making Daemon laugh so handsomely. “Are you doubting me, my love?”

“How could I?” Harriet matches Daemon tone.

"My prince, milady," a servant frantically called out to Daemon, disrupting their moment.

“What?” Daemon asked, slightly annoyed.

“Milord Corlys wants to meet you, my prince.” The servant answered.

Daemon let out an angry huff. “Show us the way to your master.”

The servants start shuddering. “Yes—yes, my prince… do—do follow me.”

"Is it just my eyes, or have you two truly not aged since the War of the Stepstones?" Corlys inquired midway through their meal.

The question almost made Harriet spit out the piece of overcooked steak she just put in her mouth.

“Away from vile people and ugly politics keeps you young and healthy, Corlys.” Daemon casually lied through his teeth.

“I guess that’s true.” Corlys sighs, “All this stress will eventually kill me.”

“I heard you and Princess Rhaenys will take Lady Rhaena under your care?” Harriet asked to steer the conversation away from the topic of Daemon and her age.

Corlys sighs heavily again, “Yes! It's all because her incompetent father already engaged with a new woman before my daughter even had a proper burial! I cannot allow her to remain with such a disreputable individual!"

“Godric’s Heart! How heartless of him.” Harriet commented as she pushed the rubbery, overcooked steak away.

Corlys grunted, “I am ashamed to have ever called that pathetic man my in-law.”

“That Zalyne’s boy is useless, Corlys. He is only half the sailor his father ever was, and I'm sure it wouldn't take much time before he dies from his own foolishness. I heard he almost emptied his family coffers.” Daemon said this while putting a generous amount of mashed potatoes onto Harriet's plate.

“I hope his gold perishes and he dies in unbearable pain.” Corlys cursed before taking a deep breath again.

When Corlys looked visibly calm, Daemon put his silverware down. “Actually, there’s something urgent I need to ask you, Corlys.”

“Do ask, my friend.”

“It’s true that you are going to break the engagement between Cirilla Certigar and your nephew Daeron?”

Corlys' jaw tightened, and his entire demeanor turned cold. “I know you're close with the Celtigar, but these matters are not something you should meddle with, Daemon. It’s between Velaryon and Celtigar.”

“I speak to you as a friend, Corlys, and in my opinion, on a time like this, it is unwise for you to break an alliance.” Daemon spoke calmly without losing his temper.

“In time, like what, Daemon?” Corlys challenged Deviantly despite already knowing what exactly Daemon was insinuating.

Daemon stood up and offered his hand to Harriet. "In case you're unaware, James considers Cirilla Celtigar to be his elder sister, and he deeply cares for her feelings." Daemon assisted Harriet in standing up and then protectively wrapped his hand around her waist. "And with that piece of information, I hope that you, for your own good, break off the engagement very carefully."

Corlys stood up abruptly and slammed his hand on the table. “Are you threatening me right now, Daemon?!”

"I am giving you advice, you damn old fool!" Daemon finally snapped, “James is my son, but I am not capable of stopping him and Ancalagon from flying to Driftmark and melting your damn castle! No one could stop such a force! You know how Targaryen’s tempers are!”

A tense silence fell upon them.

“I think it’s time for us to retreat, Daemon.” Harriet told Daemon softly.

“We should.” Daemon agreed, “Good night, Corlys.”

The door of the dining room swung open with such force that the two of them barely moved from their positions. "Mistress! Master!" Nessela shouted.

Harriet had never seen Nessela so frantic before, and the sight of blood on her hand caused all the blood in Harriet's body to turn cold.

“This is not Little Master’s blood!” Nessela promptly informed Harriet, a revelation that brought her immense relief. "However," she added, "your presence is desperately needed, Mistress."

“Oh Merlin! Did James kill someone?” Harriet asked as she followed Nessela as fast as her pregnant body possibly allowed her to.

“No, my lady.” Nessela answered shortly.

“Thank Salazar.” Harriet sighs in relief.

“James is a gentle child; Harry, he chose to starve rather than kill a game to feed himself; how could you think him capable of killing someone?” Daemon laughed.

“Accident happened, Daemon.” Harriet scowls at her husband’s unseriousness. “He could accidentally push someone with his magic out the open window.”

Daemon blinked in surprise. “I honestly never think of those kinds of possibilities.”

“See!” Harriet rolled her eyes.

When Harriet arrived at the great hall, the place was in complete chaos. Disregarding everyone, she and Daemon went directly to James' side, where she also found Aemond, surrounded by maesters, with a deep wound on his left eye.

“Mum! Please save Aemond’s eye!” James begged.

“Prince’s eye cannot be saved; it was ruined; the blade cut way too deep.” The maester declares.

Hearing that, James slumped to the floor; Daemon quickly scooped him up and held him close.

“Please let me.” Harriet spoke as she swished her wand to cast a diagnostic spell and a couple of healing spells.

“You will faint if you keep holding your breath, James.” Harriet calmly told his son while reading the diagnostic spell.

“It's okay, James; it's not hurt that bad.” Aemond lied.

“I already told them one cannot inherit a dragon, but they don’t listen.” James sobs. "I told them that if it works like they wanted, then Dad should ride Meleys, and Princess Rhaenys should ride Caraxes."

The people who had been bickering this whole time instantly went silent; they knew James was right.

“You’re correct, James; dragons are not an inheritance; they choose their own rider.” Daemon ruffled James' hair fondly.

After reading the diagnostic twice, Harriet let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, your grace, but like the maester said, Aemond’s vision in his left eye was lost; James’ magic healed the physical wound and eased the pain, but the vision is forever lost; the blade cut too deeply, destroying the nerve; at this rate, I could only permanently close the wound to prevent infection and take away the pain completely.” Harriet told the queen.

“Anything, please…” The queen sounded completely heartbroken.

Harriet nodded; she swished her wand, vanishing the blood, and closed the wound completely with the vulneraseatur spell. "James, please retrieve the essence of dittany for me."

James quickly rummaged through his enhanced bag and pulled out the green potion.

Harriet informed the queen, "This potion will produce a green fume when it comes into contact with a wound; don't be alarmed." The last thing Harriet needs is for the queen to start screaming loudly in her ear.

Harriet carefully put three drops of Dittany essence on the wound; slowly, the inflamed area healed.

“Oh? It doesn't hurt anymore!” Aemond said while touching his left eye that it had been closed forever with a big vertical scar from his forehead down to his cheek.

“I see everything is settled…” said the king out of nowhere.

Every head in the room snapped toward the king in disbelief, especially Harriet's. Her heart burned with rage, wondering how this pathetic excuse of a man could say something like that after his son had just lost his eyes.

The injustice was met with a terrible silence, but no one had the courage to speak to the king. Harriet had to clutch the elder wand tightly to prevent herself from cursing the king with the vilest curse she knew. She gazed at Daemon, who looked ready to tear Viserys apart, but James took the initiative and spoke first. “But you haven’t punished Lucerys for taking brother Aemond’s eye, Uncle Vis.” James's statement finally breaks the silence.

Seeing the response of all the people in the room, Harriet instinctively pulled James and Aemond toward her as Daemon stepped in front of them.

“Grand Prince Jaehaerys was right: nothing is settled here. My son has been maimed, my king; good will cannot make him whole again, his eye forever lost!” The queen said.

“I know, Alicent.” Viserys said, “But punishing Lucerys wouldn’t restore Aemond’s eye either.”

“And by that, are you just going to let this go?” The queen asked in disbelief.

“What would you have me do?” Viserys inquires as if he were the most foolish person in the universe.

“There is a debt to be paid.” The Queen answered coldly. “I shall demand one of her son’s eyes in return.”

James gasped; Harriet held her son closer; she completely understood the queen because she may do the same if not worse if James were in Aemond's position.

“My dear wife—” The king pleaded.

“Aemond is your son, Viserys! Your blood!”

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment…”

“If the king will not seek justice, then the queen will.” Alicent looked at her sworn shield, “Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.”

When the chaos broke out, Harriet swiftly used her Protego to protect the boys from any harm.

“ENOUGH!” Daemon's yell caused everyone in the room to halt abruptly. “This is ridiculous!” He spat. “I'm so disappointed in you, Viserys; your son just lost his eyes, and you do nothing?”

“Like I said—”

"Yes, you're correct; it's impossible to restore his eyesight, but you can't just sweep this matter under the rug! Your son had been maimed for fuck's sake!”

“It’s justified! He slandered my sons!” Rhaenyra screamed from across the room.

“Justified, you say?! Did you truly want to justify maiming someone for life over slander, Rhaenyra?” Daemon, glaring at Rhaenyra, who had become as pale as her night robe, sneered, "Didn't your boys also call my son names just because he had magic?"

People gasped loudly, Harriet as well; she truly didn't know such an event had happened.

Harrtet looked at Daemon, and he gave her a silent apology for not informing her sooner.

“It's not true…” denied Rhaenyra’s boys weakly.

“It's true!” James shouted, “They hate me for having magic and looking exactly like Dad!” 

“James speaks the truth; they had started calling James freak since the king's last name day banquet!” Aemond added fuel to Daemon's anger.

Loud cracks were heard; it was Daemon. He looked beyond pissed and ended up breaking one of the chairs with his bare hand to temper his anger. "How are you going to handle this situation, brother? By the logic of the Crown Princess, I allowed to maimed her sons for slandering my son; I believe a tongue from each boy will suffice. May I proceed, your grace? Daemon asks in a sweet and calm manner, as composed as an angry person could be.

Harriet is still fuming in rage even when she already predicted someone would call her precious son a name sooner or later, because muggles are like that; they always think something beyond them is too bizarre and unnatural. 

Harriet’s heart ached for her son; deep down, she wanted to hex the shit out of Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, but if she harmed a member of the royal family, Otto Hightower would immediately rejoice and declare her an enemy of the realm.

Harriet sighs; she could only wait to see what Viserys would decide to settle this mess, though she wouldn’t expect much.

Viserys looks defeated. “Make your apologies! all of you! and show goodwill to one another, we are family! This interminable infighting has been dragged on for far too long!”

Daemon's sarcastic laughter breaks the silence, “Who am I kidding here?” He scoffed, “You know what, Rhaenyra? Your boy is pretty lucky, because if my precious son was the one who got hurt tonight, I wouldn’t only kill your sons; I would hurt them, flay their skin inch by inch with the dullest blade I own, and when I was done, I would throw whatever remained of them to my dragon!”

People gasped in horror in the background as Rhaenyra’s boys threw up onto the stone floor.

“Daemon, please.” Viserys begged.

“No need to beg Viserys; I won't disturb your fake peace any longer—”

Before Daemon could walk away, Viserys grabbed his wrist and said something to him. Daemon, who was still visibly annoyed, turned red in anger. “Have you lost your damn mind?!” Daemon yelled at Viserys. 

Viserys attempted to persuade Daemon once more, urging him to accompany him back to King's Landing. However, Daemon was uninterested and yanked his wrist from Viserys' weak grip. “You have truly lost your mind to think I would entrust the safety of my precious family to someone who is not even willing to stand up for his own son!”

Viserys looks hurt deeply, but Harriet thinks it well deserved.

“You cannot talk like that to the king.” A King's Guard protest.

“I can say whatever I want to my brother; and if you still want your useless head attached to your neck, stay out of it,” Daemon glared a dagger at the King’s guard, making him instinctively reach for the hilt of his sword.

Seeing the guard about to draw his sword, Harriet stepped in front of Daemon and struck the guard with Depulso , sending him flying and crashing like a ragdoll into the wall behind him. “The next spell will be a killing curse if any of you dare to threaten my husband again.” Harriet hissed angrily.

Daemon gently placed his hand upon Harriet’s wand hand. “You should refrain from doing strenuous magic while pregnant, my love.” He gently reminded her, then proceeded to kiss the top of her head.

“Killing one or two people would hardly exhaust me.” Harriet glared angrily at all the Kings’ guards behind Viserys, who looked very alarmed.

Daemon turned to face Viserys again. “I am leaving, and this is the last time you will see me, Viserys.”

“You can’t! You promise to our Father!”

"Ah yes, I promise our father that I will protect you," Daemon laughed. "But tell me, dear brother, how does one protect oneself from one's own stupidity?"

Viserys’ face contorted in pain; he even needed Ser Harrold to keep him steady. Harriet can’t decide if the pain is physical, mental, or both.

“And aren’t you also made to promise to father?” Daemon chuckled.

Viserys's eyes went comically wide.

“Oh? Did you think I didn't know that you also promised Father that you would always take care of me?

“Daemon, I—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Viserys. You took care of me so well; you banished me on a whim and kept me chained to a bronze bitch for almost two decades, dismissing my counsel, and ultimately, you plan to annul my happy marriage with the love of my life!” Daemon clapped sarcastically, “You take care of me really well, brother, the best older sibling any brother could hope for.”

Upon hearing all of that, Viserys clutches his chest and begins to struggle with breathing. The maesters quickly tend to him, encouraging the frail man to sit and regulate his breathing.

Harriet put her palm over Daemon’s raging heart. He looks ready to tear Viserys a new one but Harriet thinks it unwise, “Time for us to leave, Daemon.” she whispers.

Daemon took a deep breath, then looked at Aemond. “Aemond, come; you’re leaving with us.”

Aemond pointed to himself in disbelief, “Me?” He asked.

“Truly, Dad?!” James asked in the same disbelief.

Daemon nodded again, “Yes, from today on we will foster Aemond. Go; help him pack his stuff,” he urged James.

Otto Hightower, who looked all smug during the quarrel between Viserys and Daemon, suddenly looked frantic and shouted, “You can’t do that!”

“For the love of God!” Daemon roared angrily. “I am Daemon Targaryen. I can do whatever the fuck I want!”

Otto Hightower stepped up. “You cannot just take a member of the royal family, Prince Daemon. As Prince Aemond's grandfather, I—”

“Aemond’s grandfather?” Daemon scoffed, “You mean as a scum of a grandfather who only looked at Aemond as nothing more than a spare pawn until he became the rider of Vhagar?”

Otto glared murderously at Daemon. “I cherish my grandchildren all the same,” he said calmly.

“Oh absolutely, there’s no doubt about it.” Daemon scoffed, “Sending your youngest grandson to Oldtown for safekeeping and assigning two Kingsguard for your precious Aegon while letting Helaena and Aemond fend for themselves is clearly an exemplary way to treat your grandchildren equally.” Daemon laughed, and before Otto could run his vile mouth again, Daemon added, “And remind me again, did you ever say something to defend your grandchildren when his father treats him with injustice?”

"Viserys was my king before he became the father of my grandchildren—" Otto spoke with calculated precision.

“Oh please cut the crap, my dear Otto. Just admit that you didn't even speak a word during the whole ordeal.”

“The king’s justice—”

Daemon raised one finger to stop Otto. “I'm taking Aemond with me, end of discussion.”

Otto swiftly adjusted his strategy; the evil man would not allow Aemond to escape his control, particularly now that he was riding the second-largest dragon in the world, Ancalagon.

Otto carefully approached Viserys, who was still completely distraught, and whispered poison into the king’s ear, “Your grace, you cannot let Prince Daemon just take your son; this act of defiance will make you look weak.”

Harriet rolled her eyes.

Viserys was about to speak, but the queen preceded him, “Go on, Aemond, pack your belongings.”

Aemon's eyes widened at the queen.

The queen looked like she tried her best to look strong; she smiled at Aemond, “Don’t make Prince Daemon wait; it’s well known that the prince is hardly a patient person.”

Otto walked toward the Queen. “Your grace, you cannot—”

“I can; I am his mother and the queen of seven kingdoms,” the queen said sternly.

Otto seems to try to intimidate the queen. “Prince Aemond is important—”

The queen didn't deter; she stood tall and glared at her father, “I will be damned by the Mother and the Crone if I let my son live among his oppressor or those who only bring him injustice, pain, and sorrow!” The queen shouted with a fury reminiscent of a wounded lioness, which silenced her father completely.

Then the queen looked at Daemon. "I never liked you, Prince Daemon, but I believe you and your family are the only ones I could entrust the safety of my son to—the ones who will treat my son as one of your own."

“He is one of my own, your grace. And you have my word that I will keep him safe.” Daemon answer.

Queen Alicent's eyes turn glassy, filled with unshed tears. She stroked Aemond's cheek softly. “Go, be free, my precious boy; I’m truly sorry for not being able to give you the justice you deserve tonight,” she whispered.

Aemond swallowed hard before hugging the queen tightly. “You have nothing to apologize for, mother,” he sobbed in her mother's embrace.

“I entrusted my son—” The queen spoke, her words grave filled with sorrow and worry.

“You don't have to worry, your grace; I will take care of Aemond like one of my own.” Harriet smiled at the queen.

“I don’t have any problem taking care of this little princeling, but if he whines too much, I will ship him in a wooden box directly to you.” Daemon said with a playful smile toward Aemond.

“I won’t whine!” Aemond protests while James muffles his giggle.

The queen let out a wet laugh before kissing both of Aemond's cheeks.

“Alright then, hop on your dragons!” Daemon instructed the two giggling boys. “Don’t forget to strap yourself this time, Aemond.”

Aemond pouted at Daemon.

“What?” Daemon asked with eyebrows arched.

“Yes, uncle, I won’t forget.” Aemond scowled.

“Good.” Daemon laughed.

“Lady Harriet, I'm sorry for…”

Harriet shook her head. “Your father is not you, your grace; there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Harriet smiled at her. “Take care of yourself and your children.”

“I will, again, thank you.” The queen squeezed Harriet’s hand. “May the Seven bless you with an easy birth and a healthy babe.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

Chapter Text

Claw Isle—Daemon.

“Stop—” Daemon struck Aemond in his blind spot with a training sword. “—Defending—” another struck, “—Your blind spot, fight back!” He urged the boy.

Aemond threw his training sword to the sand and yelled frustratedly at Daemon. “How am I supposed to evade an attack that I cannot see?!”

“You lost your sight, not your sense; stop acting like a cripple.” Daemon harshly told the boy as he threw the training sword back to Aemond, “Never throw away your sword.”

“Yes, uncle.” Aemond mumbled under his breath.

James gives him a disapproving stare but remains silent, fully aware that even Daemon was harsh; throwing a sword is not something any swordsman should do.

Daemon sighs, realizing he had been too harsh. “Pay attention.” He glanced at James. “You too, James.”

James quickly fixed his posture.

Daemon slowly slashed the air with his training sword. “Can you feel it?” he asked.

The two boys frown.

Daemon put down his training sword. This lesson seems too advanced for the boys; he considers another way to teach them, but then his eyes land on the Dark Sister. “This will do,” he hummed as he unsheathed the Valyrian sword. He repeated the same movement from a safe distance. When the sword slashed through the air, its vibration made a faint, eerie melody.

“Oh!” Aemond and James exclaimed.

Daemon felt proud of himself. He instructs the boys to close their eyes, and once they do, he repeats the movement, this time slightly to their right. In response, the two of them jump away to the left to evade the strike. “Very good!” Daemon praised the two boys.

“That’s how you block a strike from behind! You sense the sword coming to you!” James exclaimed.

“Correct.” Daemon ruffled James’ hair.

Aemond looked down at his feet, and Daemon reached his head and ruffled his hair. “Everything can be learned; sometimes one person only needs double the effort than the others, too soon to be disheartened.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Aemond nodded.

Daemon concluded the training and urged the boys to fly with their dragon to lift their mood. “I expect you two to be present at dinner.”

“Okay, Dad!” James chimes in with his usual cheeriness.

“We will, Uncle.” Aemond answered more formally.

“You are a good mentor, Daemon,” Alton said as he stood beside Daemon, watching the two boys take off to the sky with their massive dragons.

“I’m blessed with a talented student; I have no patience for stupid ones.” Daemon answer.

“You had no patience for anything, except for your wife.”

Daemon snorted.

Alton sighed; his gaze went to the sun that had begun to set.

“Corlys finally broke the engagement?” Daemon asked.

“No, he got a better deal; Rhaena will marry Rhaenyra’s bastard.” Alton spat angrily.

“Bastard or not, he’s still your prince, Alton.” Daemon reminded his friend.

“They make my daughter look like a fool!” Alton spat angrily.

“Most nobles weren’t aware of the possibility of the broken engagement; Cirilla’s reputation is still intact.”

Alton clenched his jaw.

“What? You'd rather have Daeron proceed with his plan to renounce his Velaryon name and marry into your family?”

“No.” Alton sighed, “I’m glad Ciri will marry Daeron. He and Vaemond are decent men, unlike Corlys, that vile, greedy sea snake…”

“No,” Daemon shakes his head, “Vaemond complains too much; there’s no decency in him.”

Alton snorted, “He truly does complain a lot.” 

Daemon started polishing the Dark Sister as Alton went silent for a moment.

“You know what?”

“Hmm?” Daemon inquired as he gazed at his reflection on freshly polished Dark Sister.

“If the engagement truly broke, I plan to expose all of Corlys’ bastards to Rhaenys.” Alton confessed.

The shock upon hearing Alton’s confession almost made Daemon cut his finger on the Dark Sister. “For the love of Gods! Alton, are you trying to set the whole Blackwater Bay on torch?!” He yelled, “You know how Rhaenys are!”

"I planned to do this because I know exactly how she would react."

"Damn you, Alton! It's better for everyone if you just stab Corlys in the heart." Daemon laughed.

“That bastard didn’t deserve a swift death,” Alton spat disdainfully.

Daemon stared at Alton; in all seriousness, he said, “If I ever did something that angered you, I’m truly sorry.” 

Hearing that, Alton burst into laughter, no longer stewing on his anger and grudge.

King’s Landing — Alicent

“Marrying Helaena to Aegon?” Alicent asked in a mix of horror and confusion. “But—!”

Her father stares her down with such contempt that it makes Alicent instantly cower in fear.

Ever since they returned from Driftmark, there's not a single day that her father has not reminded her about her error in stripping their faction from their strongest protector.

Her father would often recount horrific scenarios in which Aemond was unable to save them quickly enough, leading to Rhaenyra successfully feeding Aegon to her dragon and destroying all Hightowers with dragon fire.

“But what, Alicent? Jaehaerys has a sister-wife now! A man as selfish and insufferable as Daemon would undoubtedly marry Jaehaerys to Alyssa in order to maintain the magic within their family! They had no use for Helaena!”

“Prince Daemon stated he would let Prince Jaehaerys marry anyone he chose.” Alicent said weakly. 

“And you believe that abomination’s word?” Otto asks in disbelief. “He beat Qi’s emissary to death only because that man dared to propose a betrothal request between Alyssa and the Jade Emperor!”

“We… we can propose for Aemond—”

“Are you deaf?!” Otto slammed his fist on the table, making Alicent start trembling like a leaf. “You think someone who refuses betrothal from a god-emperor would want to marry his precious magical daughter to a second son who has nothing to his name like Aemond?”

“Aemond had Vhagar…”

“Jaehaerys had Ancalagon and magic!”

Alicent sinks even deeper into her chair.

“Can't you see that Daemon purposely named his spawns to relieve memories of the old king and the good queen?”

“...The new babe is named after Prince Daemon’s mother...not good Queen Alyssane.”

Otto took a deep breath and balled his fist, causing Alicent to stutter and pick at the skin around her nails. “There must be another option for my daughter…” She hates herself for squeaking like a mouse.

“Did you forget you’re the one who refused Rhaenyra’s proposal to marry Helaena to Jacaerys?” Otto raised his eyebrow at his daughter.

“Jacaerys is a bastard! I wouldn’t let my daughter—”

“Bastard or not, that boy is a prince and next in line to the throne after his whore of a mother!” Otto yelled. “How many times do I need to tell you to not let your emotions precede you?”

Alicent's shoulder slumped.

“We have to marry Aegon to Helaena as soon as possible before Viserys decides otherwise.”

“Father…”

“Not another word, Daughter. I had enough of enabling your stupid choices and foolish emotions. Haven’t I given you more than enough chances to prove yourself?”

Alicent stares at her bloody finger in silence.

“Haven’t I?!” Otto roared.

“…Y…Yes, father.”

“"And how do you repay my goodwill, daughter? By dragging my lifetime's hard work through the mud?"

“…I…I was wrong…”

“You are! And because of that, from today on, I will be the one who decides the course of our family.”

Alicent closed her eyes, with a heavy heart full of guilt to all her children, she answered in a whisper, “...Yes, Father.”

Claw Isle—Harriet.

“You could just refuse!” Saera spat angrily.

“I could,” Daemon agreed.

Saera looked at him in disbelief. “Then why did you beat that emissary to death?!” 

“First of all, that cradle robber is not dead,” Daemon calmly stated.

“There's a print of your fist on the side of his head! His jaw is shattered beyond repair! If that man somehow ever made a recovery, he wouldn’t be whole again!” Saera spat angrily.

“Still not dead.” Daemon replied nonchalantly.

“He is an emissary—!”

“Then he should act like one and not a cradle robber who tries to take my daughter away from me!” Daemon yells, eventually losing his temper.

“It's just a betrothal proposal for god’s sake! James has had it since he was born!”

“James is different! He is a man!”

“You’re being irrational! You are being careless, and this will hurt your chances of moving to Volantis peacefully!"

“About that…” Harriet finally stepped up, “Daemon and I think it will be unwise to move before teaching James and Armond proper aerial battle on the dragon’s back.”

Saera frowned.

"Saera, I don't think the Essosi will be happy if they see three huge dragons coming into their land." Harriet added with a small wry smile.

Having finally grasped Harriet's perspective, Saera inhaled deeply. “You’re right; for your and the children’s safety, postponing the moving will be wise.”

“Harriet’s and children’s safety?!” Daemon asked in disbelief at Saera. “What about me?!”

“What about you?” Saera asked with one eyebrow arched at Daemon.

“I’m your blood, Saera!”

“And?” Saera asked, boredly.

“If I’m not marrying Harriet—”

“—Then you are even more stupid than your beloved brother.” Saera cut Daemon mid-sentence.

Daemon scoffed in disbelief at Saera.

Harriet shook her head in amusement; why did these two Targaryens always love to bite each other's necks every chance they got?

“I heard you planted a lemon tree in the front garden?” Harriet asked to cease the glaring competition between Daemon and Saera.

“Yes, I brought the kind that would survive Volantis’ humidity.” Saera answered without taking her eyes away from Daemon.

"How about the precious redwood door I ordered from Ulthos?" Daemon questioned, his glare unwavering. Daemon asked while maintaining his glare.

“Already installed in place, I must admit you chose the correct type of door to complete the villa’s beauty.”

Daemon’s chest puffed a little bit upon hearing the acknowledgment.

“Well, one of the few things you did right in life.” Saera jab.

“You sharp-tongued bitch.” Daemon can’t help but laugh.

Saera laughed with him, “So, no dragon surprise this time?” she asked while pouring herself a cup of wine.

“There will be no dragon surprises this time.” Harriet chuckles. “Apparently, sharing a nest with Vhagar and Ancalagon teaches Caraxes some humility.”

“Truly?” Saera asks in clear amusement.

"Yes, he made it clear that he would rather drown himself than have another dragon come into his private space. That dragon is so dramatic."

“Just like his rider.” Saera scoffed.

Daemon rolled his eyes at Saera. “Alyssa will eventually claim a dragon; he knows that, right?”

Harriet nodded, “Yes, and Caraxes hopes Alyssa waits till Ancalagon and Vhagar die first.”

Daemon barked a laugh, “I don’t think Ancalagon and Vhagar would die anytime soon.”

“That's what I told him.” Harriet chuckles.

Chapter Text

Harriet— 122 AC—Claw Isle

Harriet was just about to retire in her chamber after brewing the essence of dittany the whole day when she heard Daemon yell. “Alyssa Lily Targaryen! Get down this instant!” 

The desperate yell met with the most gleeful laughter and squeal Harriet ever heard come from her daughter.

“Oh, you little gremlin! Just see when I manage to catch you!”

“Gremlin?” Harriet couldn't help but ask in glee, “I thought she was your precious star?”

“She is my precious star, but she acts like a gremlin right now.” Daemon replied while trying to reach Alyssa, who always floats slightly above his reach. “Dearest, a little help?”

“Oh? You need my help?” Harriet acts surprised.

“Do I need to beg and grovel first?” He asked sarcastically.

“I would love to see that.” Harriet hummed.

“Dearest!”

Harriet laughed as she swished her elder wand, gently floating Alyssa to Daemon's embrace.

“Got you, little gremlin!” Daemon said before nuzzling his nose over Alyssa’s side, making the baby squeal, “This big bad dragon will eat you now!” He fakes a roar next before nibbling on Alyssa’s arm, making her squeal even more.

Harriet could only shake her head in amusement.

Once Daemon managed to exhaust Alyssa to sleep, he gently put her in the cradle and then sat on an armchair beside the cradle.

“I feel old.” Daemon blurted out of nowhere when Harriet put all necessary protection spells upon the golden cradle.

“Wait, what?” Harriet was taken completely by surprise, nearly dropping the Elder Wand.

“I felt old, Harry; I never felt this tired after taking care of James,” he sighed tiredly as he leaned back on the armchair and let his head hang in the air

“Oh, my poor husband.” Harriet cooed while circling the armchair; once she stood behind Daemon, she carefully raked her blunt finger over her husband's scalp, making him purr like an oversized cat. 

“Tsk tsk, look at their gray hair.” She playfully clicked her tongue.

Daemon's eyes immediately snapped open. “I beg your pardon? It's a perfect combination of silver and gold, definitely not gray.”

Harriet laughed before she pressed her lips upon Daemon’s forehead. “You know I would still love you even if you are old and gray, right?”

Daemon cupped Harriet’s face and brought her face lower to kiss her lips, “Of course.” He murmured before kissing her again.

Harriet smiled. “You should rest and let Nessela take care of Alyssa, my love.”

“I should.” Daemon sighs.

“And you cannot compare Alyssa and James; James is always a gentle child.”

“True.” Daemon sighs once more. “I swear our daughter will be the death of me.”

“If you let her, she definitely will.” Harriet agreed; her daughter never missed a chance to make Daemon all worked up, chasing and fussing over her.

“Let’s go to bed.” Harriet whispers above Daemon’s lips, her hand spread all over his chest.

“Let’s.” A naughty smirk began to form on his face as he spoke.

Harriet huffed a laugh. “I thought you said that you were tired.”

“The day I get tired of you is the day I die, my love.” Daemon began to kiss Harriet’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous.” Harriet laughed.

Harriet felt Daemon’s strong body pressing behind her, pulling her face towards him. She slid a hand in his hair and moaned into his mouth, trying to stop the kiss, but he fisted a hand in her hair, stopping her from taking her mouth away from his. 

Daemon grabbed Harriet's cheek. “Always so sweet for me,” he whispered, his thumb lightly brushing over her plump lips. 

A grunt came over him when she voluntarily opened up her mouth and wrapped her lips around his thumb and started to suck on it. Her eyes closed, and a sweet, quiet moan came out of her.

Daemon’s lips were all over her throat; his warm hands roamed over her thighs. Harriet's brain was getting foggy when Daemon’s finger glided down and dipped in her. “Daemon,” she moaned.

Daemon added another finger and increased his rhythm. Harriet jerked up, but Daemon held her closer by wrapping his hand around her neck. An intense feeling spread over her body as Daemon added another finger and started thrusting in and out so fast that Harry's sight blurred.

Harriet's breathing became labored, and her toes curled at the warmth that was trying to seep out of him and spread everywhere. She could sense that she was about to come undone, but suddenly, Daemon stopped and removed his fingers.

Harriet whimpered a protest.

"I know, darling, I know I’m such a tease," Daemon chuckled, before he snapped his hips forward and plunged deep inside Harriet, knocking air from her lung.

Daemon started moving, thrusting in and out at a slow pace, watching Harriet's expression in fascination, running his hands over her naked body, sending her mind clouded with pleasure that slowly built inside her belly, threatening to explode any second.

Harriet's vision was slowly swimming; she felt she couldn't breathe anymore.

Harriet was driven to the edge by the obscene sounds of wet skin slapping against each other and low, almost inaudible gasps leaving their mouths. 

Daemon sped up and was relentless, and Harriet could barely hold a coherent thought in his head. Her toes curled, then she felt him tighten, and she came undone, warmth spreading over his limbs. Daemon kept fucking him through her peak, making her internal muscles contract around Daemon's cock. Harriet whimpered, convulsing, under Daemon’s vice grip on her body.

Daemon came with a loud gasp and curses inside of Harriet and dropped on the bed, holding Harry on top of himself.

“Scourgify.” Harriet waved her hand in the air and instantly cleaned her and Daemon’s body from sweat and slick.

Daemon immediately let out a contented sigh. “I loved that spell.”

“Really? You didn't get weirded out by the tingling left by the spell?”

Daemon kissed Harriet’s cheek. “That's actually the part I like.”

“What!” Harriet laughs, “You’re weird!”

Daemon hugged Harriet; the rumble of his laugh slowly died down, and he went completely silent.

“What’s wrong? Harriet asked.

“News comes from King’s Landing.”

Harriet felt dread creep upon her spine. “Is Viserys dead?”

“No, it's about Helaena and Aegon’s child.”

“Oh?” Relief washed over Harriet. “What about them?”

“The firstborn, Jaehaerys, had six fingers on his left hand and six toes on each foot.”

Harriet gasped in horror.

“I know,” Daemon sighs heavily.

“the other twin?”

“Jaehaera is smaller than a normal baby; Maester believes she wouldn’t survive infancy.”

“Oh Merlin! That’s horrible.”

Daemon pressed his cheek upon the top of Harriet’s head. “Does it happen because of their Andal blood?”

Harriet laid her head on Daemon’s shoulder. “I really don’t have answers to that question, my love.”

Daemon sighs. “I can’t believe this kind of thing finally happens in my family.”

Harriet could only give her distraught husband an assuring embrace

James

“Someone in a bad mood,” James said while keeping his eyes on Alyssa, who floated across the room with dozens of dolls by her side. Jame truly can’t understand how his baby sister could so easily use levitating spells on herself and other stuff at the same time.

“How am I not?! My grandfather wants me to seduce Alyssa!” Aemond threw his crumpled letter into the fireplace.

“He what?!” James laughed in disbelief.

“It’s not funny, James!” Aemond glared at James.

“It does!” James snickered, his eyes still glued to Alyssa's figure like a hawk.

“Seducing a baby! That senile old man finally lost his mind!” Aemond groaned as he threw himself onto the couch. “How could he ask something like that?! Even small folks know the two of you will marry when Alyssa comes of age!”

“Do we?”

“James, be serious a bit; you two have a duty to preserve magic in your bloodline.”

“No, we don’t; Mum and Dad said he doesn’t care if magic died with us.”

“Magic—”

“Magic is not everything, brother; magic once died with old Valyria, and the world still runs without it.”

Aemond's lips turn into thin lines.

James waved his hand, summoning Alyssa straight to his lap.

Alyssa immediately threw a fit after sitting on James' lap.

“No flying near the window, remember?”

Alyssa pouted.

“Did you forget what happened to Icarus when he flew too close to the sun?”

“I'm not stupid.” Alyssa retorted.

Aemond gently flicked Alyssa’s nose. “You definitely are not stupid, but accidents happen, and magic can fail.” 

Alyssa huffed and puffed for some time before settling on James’ lap.

“Back to the topic, it truly doesn’t matter, Aemond; I can’t even do proper magic like mum does.” James tenderly kissed the top of Alyssa's head. “Also, there’s no guarantee if Lyssa and I marry, our child will inherit our magic. Squib born from two magical inbreeding parents, you know.”

“Our duty—”

“Is to keep the realm’s peace, not to wed our sister.” James cut Aemond’s sentence. “You truly need to relax a bit, brother.”

“And you need to be more serious.” Aemond rolled his eye.

“Do I need to, Lyssa?” James asks Alyssa, making her scrunch her tiny nose in displeasure upon being turned around so suddenly. “See? Even Alyssa disagrees with you.” He presses his cheek upon Alyssa’s cheek. “You prefer your fun brother over your serious one, don't you, sweetie?”

“Serious people are no fun!” Alyssa exclaimed.

Aemond rolls his eye. "As a royal family, we must maintain a certain image."

“Not this again!” James groaned.

A knock on the door shifted all of their attention; there was his mum smiling at all of them, “Have all of you packed everything you need?”

“We have, Lady Harriet.” Aemond answered.

“Good, because it will be a while before we return here.”

James’ eyes lit up in excitement. “Are we truly going to the north after the Riverlands?!”

Harriet nodded. “Yes, your father and I have something to search beyond the wall.”

“Search for what?” Alyssa asked curiously.

“Some kind of magical door.” Harriet smiled at her daughter.

“Isn’t the red door Dad’s custom order for our villa already expensive enough?”

Harriet only chuckled without giving any further explanation.

Riverrun

“Thank you for sparing your time to visit this dying old man, my prince.” Lord Grover Tully spoke while holding both of Dad's hands.

“Dying? You will live for another hundred years, Old Glover,” Dad said.

“I wish I were, my prince; I worried about my grandson Elmo; he is still too young…”

“I heard he’s a capable young man.”

“Capable he may be, but to handle Brackens and Blackwood?” Lord Glover sighs.

“They’re still at it?” Dad asks in disbelief.

"I doubt they will ever settle their feud, my prince." The ailing lord answered before he threw a fit of cough.

“What happened with the Brackens and Blackwoods?” James whispered to Aemond while his mum and dad helped Lord Grover back to his bed.

“Old territory feud: According to the Brackens, they were kings who ruled the Red Fork but were usurped by their vassals, the Blackwoods. However, according to the Blackwoods, the Brackens were petty lords and horse breeders who hired sellswords to usurp the Blackwood kings.” Aemond explained.

“King? So it has happened since before Aegon's conquest?”

Aemond nodded, “The Blackwoods and Brackens had fought a private war a decade before the rebellion.”

“And no one ever does anything to reconcile the two families?”

“Queen Visenya tried to have a double wedding between Brackens and Blackwoods.”

“That's a fantastic idea. What happened to it?”

“Maegor happened.”

“Oh…” James pursed his lower lip.

“The king could impose an ultimatum, demand an end to the feud, and determine the legal boundaries of the territory; however, knowing the nature of the two families and how weak the current king and the lord paramount of the trident are," Aemond sighs, "that scenario would likely not end well.”

“I hate politics.” James huffed.

“There’s an alternative scenario.”

“What is it?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because the scenario consists of eradicating one house or both.”

“Aemond!”

“I already said you wouldn’t like it.”

“That’s too brutal! And also inhumane!”

“Yet it's the effective way.” Aemond shrugs. “We could anonymously send sellswords to either Brackens or Blackwoods and let them kill each other to death.”

“No, absolutely not!”

Aemond chuckled, “You truly don’t have the stomach to become a ruler.”

“I don’t, and I hope you never will be a ruler either, brother. The Seven Kingdoms definitely will reduce its number if you sit on the Iron Throne.”

“That may happen.” Aemon laughed.

“It will definitely happen, you cold-hearted bastard.”

“Bastard? My father and mother are legally married in eye of the seven.” Aemond chuckled.

James rolled his eyes at Aemond before walking toward Alyssa, who was being entertained by Elmo Tully, Lord Grover’s grandson, future Lord Paramount of Trident.

“You are the prettiest baby I have ever seen, princess.” Elmo told Alyssa.

“Lady.” Aemond quickly corrected Elmo.

“My prince?” Elmo asked with a blank expression.

“The king never gave my sister a princess title, and my dad still pissed about it.” James explained.

“Oh!” Elmo went pale. “My—I—apologies!”

“It's okay.” James smiled at the young lord.

“I will inform all the servants to ensure they will address Lady Alyssa correctly.”

“That will be perfect, thank you, Elmo.”

Color slowly comes back to Elmo’s face as he smiles, “Anything, my prince.”

James smiled, “I heard you will accompany us to Harrenhal tomorrow?”

“Yes, my prince, I will be your guide during your stay in Riverrun; tomorrow we will travel by horse—”

“Horse?” Aemond scoffs.

“Something wrong, my prince?” Elmo asked in worry.

“I will not waste ten days riding to Harrenhal when I could do it in a day with a dragon.” Aemond said.

“The new road will cut the travel distance by a third, my prince.”

“Still a waste of time; we will travel by dragons.” Aemond decided.

“I—that—We?!” Elmo starts stuttering.

“I don’t think my dad would want to travel by horse either," James nodded as he patted Elmo’s shoulder. "Don’t worry, I will take you with me.”

Elmo became as white as a snowflake. “Ta-taking—me?! On the dragon's back?!”

“Be proud, Elmo Tully; you will ride Ancalagon the Black, the most fierce dragon in the seven kingdoms.” Aemond smirked.

Elmo is clutching his chest. He looks really terrible, as if he's about to pass out or shit himself.

James quickly elbows Aemond, “Stop scaring him!” He hissed.

Chapter Text

Harrenhal.

“The keep looks like a giant melted candle!” James exclaimed excitedly upon their landing near the god’s eye.

“Melted!” Alyssa chimed.

“Are you okay, Elmo?” Harriet asked the young lord of Riverrun after she floated him off Ancalagon's massive saddle.

Daemon took a bit of pity over seeing the young fish; he had never seen someone turn sickly green and trembling like newborn sheep. It looks pitiful to see.

With trembling hands, he covered his mouth with one and used the other one to give a thumbs-up sign to Harriet.

“Dying.” Alyssa, who strapped on Daemon’s chest, pointed her chubby finger at Elmo.

James pinches Alyssa’s cheek “Elmo is just sick, Lyssa; he is not dying.”

“I bet he wishes he died.” Aemond chuckled.

“Children, please.” Harriet sighs while patting Elmo’s shoulder, “Just let it out, Elmo; you will feel better.” 

Elmo quickly ran toward a nearby tree and vomited his entire breakfast out.

“Ew.” Alyssa squealed in disgust.

“First flight is always the hardest.” James encouraged Elmo as he offered his handkerchief.

“There will be a second?!” Elmo's eyes went wide.

“Don’t you need to return to Riverrun?” Aemond asked.

Elmo's mouth hung open; he looked about to say something, but James beat him.

“You surely do not think we will let you return to Riverrun by horse all by yourself, right?”

Hearing that, Elmo looks completely defeated, like someone who just heard about his death sentence.

“Weak!” Alyssa crackles.

“Alyssa, be considerate.” Harriet reprimanded their daughter.

Alyssa sulks.

“Your mum right; you should be more considerate since Fish is never not built to fly, my sweet.”

“Daemon!”

“It's the truth.” Daemon shrugs.

Harriet sighs, “Don’t listen to those bullies.” She gave something to the boy, seeing how he yelped and immediately looked healthy. Daemon bet Harriet give the pepper-up potion to the boy. “Better?”

“Thank you, my lady.” Elmo said looking much better.

“Harrenhal, the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms—” Elmo explained to them, “—currently is the seat of House Strong.”

“Currently? Are there other houses before the Strongs?”

“Yes, my prince, the first one is House Horae, the house of Harren the Black, who built the keep.”

“Then after conquest, Aegon gave Harrenhal to one of his masters of arms, Quenton Qoherys.” Aemond added.

“The line of House Qoherys ended when Gargon Qoherys died with Gargon Qoherys after he was slain by Harren the Red.” Elmo continued.

“Gargon? Harren the red? Why does it sound really familiar?” James wondered.

“Gargon Qoherys is more known as Gargon the Guest.” Daemon informs his son.

James gasped loudly and then made a disgusted face. “THAT Gargon the guest?!” 

“The one and only.” Daemon nodded.

“Who?” Harriet asked curiously.

“You really don’t want to know anything about him, dearest; trust me.” Daemon gave Harriet a wry smile, while the boys behind him nodded in agreement.

Harriet frowns. How vile could this Gargon the guest be? Did he crash into someone's party and kill everyone?

“After the Qoherys, Harrenhal was bestowed to Lord Lucas Harroway by King Aenys.” Elmo continued his historical lesson.

“Oh! Isn’t Harroway the family that was eradicated completely by Maegor? I read Maegor not only killed anyone with the Harroway name, but he also killed anyone that had Harroway blood!”

Daemon and Aemond both nodded gravely, acknowledging one of the many dark histories of the Targaryen family.

Elmo cleared his throat. “After Harroway was eradicated by King Maegor, Harrenhal was given to Ser Walton Towers by the king as his prize for winning a melee tournament. Yet the knight died from his wound before even being able to return to his domain; thus, the lordship passed to Jordan Hightower, Se Walton’s eldest son. The Tower family died with their latest lord, Maegor; he had no heir nor other family.”

“Then the old King bestowed Harrenhal to the Strong.” James chimed.

“Correct, my prince, Harrenhal is currently under the care of Castellan, Ser Simon Strong, uncle of current lord Larys Strong, after the previous lord and heir lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin died in the fire.” Elmo agreed.

Hearing all Harrenhal history makes Harriet cringe; it's only been a hundred and twenty-three years after the conquest, and there are already four families perished?

Is the keep cursed?

There's a possibility of them being cursed since so many people died an unnatural death there.

“Run!” Alyssa shrieked excitedly while pointing to the darkest corner of the hall.

“I’ve never seen that much before; Red Keep can’t even be compared to this place. Where do you think they ran off to, Mum?” James asked.

“As far as possible from us.” Harriet smiled.

Daemon remembers Harriet said the ghosts started to avoid her at all costs once she became the mistress of death; she thinks they were afraid her would make them cross to the afterlife.

“They are scared!” Alyssa added.

“I'm sorry, but what are you talking about, my ladies, my prince?” Elmo asked in confusion.

“Ghosts.” Aemond answered so casually.

“Ghosts?!” Sir Simon shrieked in horror.

“Oh, don’t be scared, good sir; it's just ghosts; they cannot harm you.” Harriet assured the distressed Castellan.

“Just a ghost?!” Ser Simon looked even more terrified.

“Yes, only poltergeists could move objects, slam doors, and create other audible and kinetic disturbances.” James explained.

“They can do that?!” Elmo asked while Ser Simon leaned on a nearby wall to prevent him from fainting.

James nodded and then turned to Harriet and asked, “You think they have their own Deathday party, Mum?”

“Probably.” Harriet smiled fondly toward James.

“Let’s just stop talking about ghosts before Ser Simon faints.” Daemon said with clear amusement.

“Oh my!” Harriet exclaimed when she realized how pale Sir Simon had become. “Are you okay, sir? Do you need to sit?” She asked while conjuring a solid wood chair out of thin air.

“Wi—Witchcraft!” Sir Simon shrieked.

Aemond, who has been silent this whole time, suddenly bursts out laughing.

“Brother!” James shushes Aemond.

“Weak!” Alyssa crackles.

"I'm truly sorry for my brother and sister, ser.” James apologizes to the castellan.

Daemon catches Harriet pondering something as she stares at the ruined roof while tapping the tip of her wand on her chin.

“What occupies your mind, my love?” he asked.

“I wonder if a mending spell could fix this hall,” she answered, still deep in reverie.

“Why not just try it?” Daemon asked.

Harriet snapped from her reverie. “Can I?"

"Who would dare to stop you, my love?" Daemon chuckled, "And the castle couldn't be any worse if the mending spell didn't succeed.”

Harriet scrunched her nose, looking not convinced.

“Just try it.” Daemon urged his wife.

Harriet pointed her wand at the nearest pile of rubble. “Reparo,” she said while making a clockwise swirl.

The rubble started shaking; bricks and beams flew to their original place.

“S–S–Sorcery!!” Ser Simon shrieked before fainting.

“By Gods, magic is so fascinating.” Elmo spoke as he held Ser Simon's head above the damp ground.

“I know, right?” James smiled proudly at his mother.

All of them stare wide-eyed upon Harriet’s works, all broken stone and wood mended, returning to their place.

“Too bad I can’t fix the melted part.” Harriet said after finishing restoring most of the hall, “Oh my, what happened to Ser Simon?”

“He saw too much magic in one day.” Aemond chuckled.

“Weak!” Alyssa crackles beside him.

Harriet gives her foster son and daughter a disapproving look, which they both pretend not to see.

Harriet only allows them to stay in Harrenhal for two days due to her fear of the molds that infested almost whole Keep, affecting the children's health.

Daemon doesn’t mind the short stay since he already finished mapping the entire keep and finding the best spot to station Ancalagon and Caraxes during the siege if the worst happens.

“Where is Alyssa?” Daemon asked Harriet when she came without Alyssa strapped to her chest.

“She wanted to ride Vhagar.” Harriet answers nonchalantly.

“She what?!”

"Oh, don’t be dramatic, Daemon; Alyssa will be fine.”

"But she has never ridden Vhagar before!”

“She will be fine, but if you insist and are willing to deal with our beloved daughter’s legendary tantrum, I will gladly bring our daughter to you.”

Daemon winces at the possibility.

“As I thought.” Harriet chuckled, “Let's go.”

They were halfway to Riverrun when Caraxes alerted Daemon and Harriet.

“Herd of armored sheep? Where?” Harriet asked in confusion.

Daemon squinted his eyes, and he found the armored sheep Caraxes mentioned. Two legions of armed soldiers marched toward each other; Bracken’s brown and yellow banner flew on one side and Blackwood's black and red banner on the other.

“Fuck!” Daemon spat, and Caraxes immediately roared, alerting both Ancalagon and Vhagar.

James looked confused while Aemon grasped the situation immediately.

Daemon signs both James and Aemond to keep in the air before he descends toward the potential battlefield.

Caraxes landed on a shallow creek between Brackens and Blackwoods; he roared toward both sides, petrifying every man on the site.

“What in the name of Gods do you think you are all doing?!” Daemon yelled from the top of Caraxes’ saddle. “Cease all your weapons! Now!” He ordered, followed by Caraxes’ furious roar.

Daemon pinched the bridge of his nose while Humfrey Bracken and Samwell Blackwood yelled at each other.

Elmo tried his best to dissuade the situation, but both Samwell and Humfrey paid no mind to their future liege lord.

Aemond suggests feeding Samwell and Humfrey to their dragons to set an example for future treasonous actions, while James suggests properly measuring each house's land and setting up a proper border.

Alyssa—well, Alyssa, being Alyssa—enjoys every bit of chaos in the room.

“We cannot set borders without Lord Tully or the King's presence.” Aemond told James.

“But they will keep bickering if the border is not properly settled!”

“They will find another thing to bicker about! It's what these two idiots have done ever since the first men came to Westeros!" Aemond spat, making Humfrey and Samwell finally stop arguing.

Daemon sighs; Aemond was right; the Bracken and Blackwood problems were deeper than just a territorial dispute; they only dare to pull stunt because they knew Lord Glover is incapacitated and Elmo is way too young to be feared.

Daemon scratched his head. “Elmo.”

“Yes, my prince?”

“I, Daemon of House Targaryen, in the name of my brother Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.” Daemon stares at the wide-eyed young man who seems aware of what Daemon is about to say: “I bestowed to you, Elmo Tully, the title of acting Lord Paramount of the Trident till your grandsire, Lord Glover, is able to resume his duty.”

Humfrey was about to open his mouth, but Daemon glared at him until he shut his mouth.

Why do people love to dictate what he could or couldn't do?!

"I am truly grateful, my prince, but I can't accept this; it's not our way." Elmo said this after he finally found his voice.

Daemon smiled at the young man, and it turned out the young fish had a strong backbone. “And what is your way, young lord, letting your men fight among themselves and wreak havoc in your domain?” 

“That—”

“That is the truth. If we let these two ruffians go unchecked today, they will definitely be on each other's neck again in no time.”

Humfrey and Samwell winced in shame.

“But my grandfather is still alive; I cannot disrespect him." Elmo clenched his fist.

“You act in his stead, not disrespect him. My mother and grandfather ruled instead of my dying father for years already.” Aemond spoke harshly, finally reaching the end of his patience.

Elmo closed his eyes and took a deep breath when he opened them. Daemon smiled a little upon seeing newfound confidence in the young man's eyes.

“There’s no sign the boundary stone had been moved.” Elmo stated this after examining the pile of rocks.

"That's what I said to this idiot!” Humfrey Bracken spat at Samwell Blackwood.

“This is the boundary stone?” James pointed at the pile of rock in disbelief, “Even a baby is capable of moving it! No wonder these two keep fighting over it!”

“It is what it is, James.” Daemon hides his amusement upon seeing how upset James is.

“No! I would not accept such a poor excuse!" James waved his hand angrily, lifting the pile of rock from the ground, turning it into a solid ten-foot slab of marble, and planting it deep in the ground. “There! Now no one should be able to claim that the boundary stone is being moved anymore!”

James turned around and found three wide-eyed Rivermen and a very amused family.

James’ cheek turned pink instantly. “I shouldn't do that; I act rashly.” He looks at his mother. “Mum, can you turn it back, please?” he pleads.

“Must I?” Harriet teases.

“Mum!” James walks closer to Harriet. “I didn’t even know how I managed to turn the boundary stone into a slab of marble,” he whispers shyly.

Harriet ruffled James’ hair fondly.

“Why not ask the acting lord paramount?” Daemon turned to Elmo, who was still admiring the slab of marble. "Young Lord Tully, would you like the stone to return to its original pile of rock, or is this gigantic slab of marble acceptable?”

“What? Oh! I personally prefer this solid marble, but Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood have the final say."

Daemon gives the two idiots a sharp glare. He silently threatens them with a painful death if they dare to refuse.

“I accept this new boundary stone.” Samwell Blackwood was the first to speak.

“I accept this boundary stone as well.” Humfrey Bracken quickly followed.

Harriet pulled her wand out, and with a single wave, a golden inscription in Valyrian appeared on the marble stone.

“May a painful death come upon those who dare to move this stone.” Aemond read it aloud, making all the Rivermen and James gasp.

Daemon raised his eyebrow questioningly at Harriet, and she replied with a silent, ‘Play along’ look.

“Gods! Is it truly necessary to curse this stone, dearest?” Daemon uttered the fakest gasp he had ever made.

Aemond immediately masks his snort with a cough while James, oh, his innocent son, looks completely horrified, believing his creation had turned into a cursed object.

“I only wish to save our dear Elmo from further headaches, knowing how Brackens and Blackwoods behave.” Harriet looks at Elmo and says, "Why do you look so surprised, Elmo? You are such a great host and good friend of my children; of course I hold you dear.”

“You flatter me, my lady, truly.” Elmo, with rosy cheeks, put his hand upon his heart and bowed slightly.

After Elmo finished his business with Brackens and Blackwoods, who want nothing but to be as far as possible from their new boundary stone, all of them return to Riverrun.

Chapter Text

James

“Oh gods, I can’t see them anymore.” James stood from the top of the wall as his parents' silhouettes disappeared from his view.

“Should we send two rangers to follow them, Prince Jaehaerys?” the commander of the night watch asked.

James shook his head gravely. “No, my father would be angry if he knew they were being followed.”

“Did you know why your parents wanted to search for the ancient weirwood tree, my prince?”

“My mother said they wanted to find a door, but she didn’t elaborate.” James sighs, “They wouldn’t cut the ancient tree and make a door out of it, Commander!” He quickly said it when he saw the Commander of Nightwatch go impossibly pale.

The commander looked relieved.

"I believe the one you should be concerned about is the unfortunate creatures who happen to cross Daemon and Lady Harriet's path." Aemond said.

“Aemond!” James protested.

“Your mother and father single-handedly end the battle of Stepstones, James.”

“So it’s true?” The commander asked. “I heard Lady Harriet create a flame dragon with her magic and burn entire Triarchy pirates.” He continued when he saw James and Aemond raise their eyebrows questioningly at him.

“Not only burning the pirates, Lady Harriet’s flame turns the entire sand on the beach into beads of glass.” Aemond said.

The commander’s eyes went impossibly wide.

“Haven’t you read Lord Commander’s Journals?!” James asked, “There are sightings of ice spiders, direwolves, and even giants!”

“Mum once beat Aragog when she was thirteen!” Alyssa chimed.

“Mum escaped Aragog the Acromantula, Lyssa. Mum never killed the man-eating spider; Aragog died in old age, remember?” James corrected his sister

“Lady Harriet had an encounter with a man-eating spider when she was thirteen?!” The commander asked.

“Gigantic man-eating spider,” Aemond corrected the lord commander, “10-foot body and 18-foot leg span.”

“God be good!” The Lord Commander shrieked.

“My mother had a rough childhood.” James grimaces as he explains to the commander.

"I believe that 'rough' is an accurate description." Aemond said, “Nobody ever slew a fifty-foot basilisk at twelve, fought a soul-sucking wraith at thirteen, and fought a dragon at fourteen, James.”

“Lady Harriet did all of that and survived?!” Lord Commander asks in disbelief.

“She had no choice; trouble always found her.”

“More like Calamity than Trouble.”

James rolled his eyes at Aemond. “I know my mum is powerful and my dad always protects her, but accidents happen, you know!”

“Mistress and Master will be just fine, little master; they cannot be killed.” Nessela said.

“I know mum and Dad are powerful, but anything can be killed, Nessela.”

Nessela replies with a strange smile, like she knew something that James didn't.

James scratched his head. “I need to do something to distract my mind, Lord Commander. Do you have something for me to do?”

“You’re a guest, Prince Jaehaerys; I surely can’t let you work.”

“Nonsense, everyone needs to work to earn their keep.”

Lord Commander blinked at James in surprise.

“I'm not my cousin Aegon, lord commander; I am used to manual labor.” James laughed as they walked toward the elevator.

The lord commander gawked at James.

“Little Master is the best woodcutter in the realm; he always cuts the firewood neatly.” Nessela said.

“James is obsessed with having the piece of wood cut equally.” Aemond added.

“The firewood stacked more easily if it was cut equally!” James defended himself.

“Mum said James was obsessive-compulsive.”  Alyssa chimed.

“No, I am not obsessive-compulsive!”

“You are.” Aemond and Alyssa said in unison.

James groaned in defeat.

Haunted Forest, Northeast of First of the First Men.

Harriet and Daemon

“Is that a ghost? Why are they not fleeing like usual? Their coloring is also a bit off…” Harriet asked while examining tall and gaunt creatures with flesh pale as milk. They have cold blue eyes that burn like ice.

“Harry, my love, that’s not a ghost.” Daemon drew the Dark Sister from its scabbard. “Because I can see them.”

The ghost-like creatures also armed themselves, drawing what appeared to be ice-made weapons.

Harriet's eyes went wide. “That doesn’t look good.” She quickly drew her wand.

“Not good at all.” Daemon agreed.

“They’re definitely not and worse than inferi! Bombarda!” Harriet explodes one of the creatures to only make severed limbs crawl at her, “Gross!”

“At least we know Valyrian steel and fire are their weaknesses.” Daemon stabs one limb that tries to crawl onto them, reducing them to ice dust.

“Their numbers seem not to be reduced at all! Incendio! Depulso! Where did they all come from?!” Harriet lit one creature on fire and launched it at another, burning the whole lot around it.

Daemon tried to kill as much as he could, but like Harriet said, the creature seems to keep coming.

“This is ridiculous!” Harriet spat; she circled him from the tip of her wand, erupting a blue flame. “Pestis Incendium!” Harriet roared; a jet of flame burst from the tip of her wand, morphing into a massive dragon.

The ice creatures halt abruptly, their blue eyes fixed on the cursed fire.

One of the creatures with heavier armor than the rest lifts its spear and shrieks like Harriet has never heard before.

Harriet and Daemon prepared for the worst; they thought the shriek was a battle cry, but it was not. They watch those creatures quickly retreat into the dark of the forest.

Harriet frowned. “That’s…disappointing…” She reduced the cursed fire into a palm-sized baby dragon and let it fly around them for protection.

“They are undead but certainly do not act like one.” Daemon said this as he resheathed the Dark Sister.

“At least we know they are unable to cross the wall.”

“Should we hunt them down for safety measures? A creature like that would be a pain in the ass south of the wall.”

“I want to, but our children will be worried sick if we do not return by the end of the week.” Harriet said,

“You’re right; let’s just find the bloody tree and the veil before James decides to lead search parties for us.”

Castle Black—James.

“You saw a fire pillar from that direction?” James asked one of the watch.

“Yes, Prince Jaehaerys, the flame rises so high as if it touches the heavens!” Said the man.

“That direction is first of the first men, 276 miles from here,” the Lord Commander informs, looking all troubled. “Should we send rangers, Prince Jaeharys?” 

James weighs his options; 276 miles means a 10-day ride by a normal horse. Even if they send the rangers now, they won't help his parents and may cause more trouble.

Before James could make up his mind, another member of the night watch came and frantically said, “Commander! There is a badly injured young man who collapsed near our gate!”

“What?!”

“We brought him to Maester Gormon, but I don’t think he would survive; the injuries were too severe.”

“I can help!” James said, “Lead me the way.”

“Vulnera Sanentur.” James cast the healing spell upon the stranger's many stabbing wounds.

“Magnificent! Truly magnificent!”  Exclaim Maester Gormon as he closely watches one by one the wounds on the stranger disappear.

“This is nothing compared to what my mother could do.” James said while retrieving Wiggenweld Potion from his bag to restore the lost blood.

Yet, before he is able to pull out the stopper, Aemond grabs his wrist and asks, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving this man?” James answered in confusion.

“Did you forget how precious this potion is? This should be used only in emergencies, James.”

“This is an emergency situation, brother. This man would die if he didn’t drink this.”

“This stranger is nobody to us!”

"This person is also a human being, Aemond."

“Lady Harriet—”

James yanks his hand from Aemon clutch, “My Mum will be glad that her potion was used to save life.” He said this before pouring almost half a vial of Wiggenweld Potion into the man's mouth.

Color began to return to the stranger 's skin. He no longer looked just to step away from the gate of the afterlife.

James cast a diagnostic spell upon the man. “Thank Merlin,” he sighs when he sees the man is pulling through his critical condition.

With a wave of his hand, he cleaned the man of dirt and dry blood.

“Did you recognize the man, Maester?” James inquired after the man became more recognizable.

“I’m afraid I have never seen this man before, Prince Jaeharys.” The Maester of the Nightwatch answered.

“I told you to waste precious potion on nobody!” Aemond yelled.

“Every life is precious, dear brother.” James reminds Aemond.

“This man could be a criminal or even a rapist!”

“He could also be a son to a worried mother or a brother to someone.” James replied calmly.

Aemond let out a harsh breath before exiting the room very dramatically by slamming the door behind him, leaving the whole door and its frame rattling.

James looks apologetic at Maester Gormon.

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize, Prince Jaehaerys,” the Maester said. “I must say I was quite surprised to see you giving away such a precious potion so easily.”

“How could I live my life knowing I let someone die only to preserve something I may not use in the future?” James asked. “This man may be somebody, nobody, or even a criminal, but I doubt someone would waste a second life granted to them by fate only to repeat his past mistake.”

Maester Gormon's eyes turn soft. “It gladdens this old Maester's heart to know that there’s still a kind soul that exists in this cruel world, especially one like you, my prince.”

“You think too highly of me, Maester.”

“Why did the Gods choose a corrupted one inside of you to be in the highest position in this realm?” Maester Gormon sighs; his eyes immediately go wide when he realizes what he has just uttered: “Forgive me for my treacherous speech, my prince!”

“You’re forgiven, dear Maester; however, please refrain from ever speaking of it again. Most people are not as forgiving as me, especially the royal family.” 

“Of course, my prince. Thank you, my prince.” The old Maeser quickly said,.

“And I don’t think I would be a good king." James chuckled, "I believe I would lead the realm to ruin."

“Why so? You're popular among small folks; you’re kind, benevolent, and also humble. This old Maester thinks you will definitely be a good ruler, my prince.”

“Kindness and humility are not traits to become a good ruler, dear Maester; also, I don’t have any political astuteness like the one my father and my brother have; I’m aware I trust people way too easily and always look at the good in people. Moreover, I also cannot stand court politics; the intrigue and deception always give me a headache.”

“You’re truly a magnificent person, Prince Jaehaerys,” Maester Gormon smiled fondly at James. “Ever thought about joining the Citadel?”

“Actually, I do.” James answered, “Yet my parents forbade it, quite strongly actually; they were afraid that instead of teaching me, the Maester would kidnap and dissect me into pieces so they could study my magic. They’re so dramatic.” James laughed, but his laughter died down as he saw Maester Gormon’s troubled expression. “Is there something wrong, Maester?” He asked.

“Your parents worry is actually valid, my prince.”

“What?!”

“I'm ashamed to admit this, but there are people in Citadel who value knowledge more than ethics.”

James gasped in horror.

“Where am I?” Ask in a weak voice.

“Oh! You’re awake! Thank Merlin!” James said.

“Who is Merlin?” The stranger asked.

“Don’t worry about him; you’re in Castle Black. How are you feeling?” James asked.

“I… Do I manage to arrive at Castle Black?

“Yes, you’re safe here, but can you tell me what happened? Certainly, a wild animal did not inflict your wound." James remembers all the horrifying stab wounds that he just healed.

“My uncle sent killers to get rid of me.” The man grunted. “Wait…those eyes…what is a Valyrian doing this far north?”

“To heal you?” James grinned.

“Be more grateful, boy! Without Prince Jaehaerys’ magic and his precious potion, you most likely already crossed to the afterlife.” Maester Gormon said.

The stranger's eyes open wide. “Jaehaerys? Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Daemon Targaryen?”

James nodded. “And may I ask, who are you?”

“Cregan…” The stranger looks wary, but he continues, “...Stark of Winterfell.”

Maester Gormon prayer beads that he has been holding all the time fall to the floor.

“Aemond owes me an apology.” James clenches his fist triumphantly.

Chapter Text

The White Tree.

“Don’t be disheartened, my love; we had all the time in this world to search for the veil.” Daemon spoke after Harriet had been silent for an extended period. “There’s still time.”

“There’s no time, Daemon. People have begun to realize that we haven't aged since the Battle of Stepstones! They would definitely question us if they were not too afraid of you.”

“Me?” Daemon laughed. “I’m not the one who created a dragon made of cursed fire out of thin air, my love.”

Harriet smacks Daemon’s thigh. “Be serious a bit! We are in imminent danger!”

“Everything will be fine, my love.” Daemon said softly.

“We are not Daemon! If they knew we were immortal…” Harriet shuddered. “It won’t be just us; people will come for our family too!”

“I won’t let anything happen to you or our family.” Daemon assured her.

“I know you wouldn’t, but—” Harriet sighs.

“We can always fake our death with a draught of the living dead and live somewhere in Sothoryos,” he smirks mischievously.

“We can’t run forever, Daemon, and anyone could identify a man and woman with their oversized–lanky–crimson dragon anywhere in this world.”

Daemon's eyes glinted mischievously.

“Are you crazy? Did you already forget how Caraxes reacts when Alyssa’s accidental magic turns his scale to blue? He almost burned the entire town in rage, for Merlin’s sake!”

Daemon snorted, “I never thought he could howl like that.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Even if we could change his scale color, we cannot change his unique features.”

“True.” Daemon, hmm.

“I'm just afraid people did to us what they did to me in my previous life, Daemon; people never react positively upon immortality.”

“I’m aware, my love; you did not need to apologize.”

Harriet leaned her head on Daemon’s shoulder, then sighed deeply. “I wish I could glamorize us both at the same time. Why have I never bothered to learn about it before?”

“You’re a witch, not a god; you can’t possibly do everything.”

Harriet huffed a laugh. “but if I had studied more seriously back then, we wouldn’t have most of the problems we have today."

“With all the crazy shit going on during 6 years of your schooling, I am amazed you still have time to study.” Daemon chuckled.

“Well, if you put it like that, I am amazed that I am still alive.” Harriet huffed.

“You know what, my love, I really hope we will end up back in your world once we cross the veil.” Daemon said it out of the blue.

“Huh? Why?” Harriet asked.

“I itch to wring Albus Dumbledore’s neck with my bare hand.” Daemon said while making a strangling gesture with his hands.

Harriet snorted loudly.

Daemon pressed his cheek upon Harriet’s. “I will make him pay for every misery he inflicted upon you, my love.”

Harriet reached for Daemon’s other cheek. “I sometimes wonder what my previous life would be if you were in it.”

“Only joy.” Daemon kisses the corner of Harriet’s mouth, “and burning Britain Wizarding world.”

“Daemon.” Harriet laughed.

“After torturing Dumbledore to death, I will burn the ministry of magic to the ground and kill every single incompetent ministry worker, especially Fudge and Umbridge. I will hold every individual accountable for their actions against you." Daemon spoke before reiterating his plan for each individual who had hurt Harriet.

Rationally, Harriet should get weirded out upon hearing Daemon's bizarre annihilation plan, but instead she felt her body gradually getting warmer and as if there were butterflies tingling in her stomach. “Are you trying to get another child from me, mister?” She asked jokingly.

“Does it work?” He teased back.

Harriet smacks Daemon’s thigh, which only makes him laugh even harder.

“But honestly though, I want you to spare Dudley, Petunia, and—”

“Absolutely not!”

“They’re my family, Daemon, and Duddley; he's not so bad.”

“One handshake and you forgive and forget everything he did to you through your childhood?!”

“He’s just a child, Daemon; he doesn’t know better. He worried about my well-being—”

“Even a stranger would worry about your well-being if they knew a megalomaniac murderer was coming after you, Harry!”

“I just can’t, okay! As much as I resented them, they are still my family!”

Daemon muttered something that sounded like ‘Heart made out of gold’ under his breath. “Fine, I will spare the piglet.” He finally said.

“What about Pet—”

Daemon shushed her, “Don’t push your luck, my love.”

Harriet, knowing better than to push her husband, sighs and remains silent; at least Dudley is safe from Daemon's bloody warpath.

Castle Black-James

“How could you do it so easily?!” James asks his little sister as he watches her repair the castle wall with such ease.

“Stop thinking too much; let the magic work.” Alyssa told him just like the way their mother always tells him.

James sulked; he tried another reparo spell, but the damaged wall did not even rattle. He sulked deeper.

“Just give up repairing and come help me train these bumbling idiots.” Aemond shouted from the courtyard where he and Cregan teach new recruits basic swordsmanship.

James's pout became more prominent.

He felt useless; why is mending magic always so hard to execute?

“Let the magic work,” Alyssa reminded him again while repairing the castle roof.

James wondered If he had a wand, would he control his magic better? Could he be as powerful as his mother?

What is the point of having enormous magical power but not being able to utilize it well?

James sighs in defeat.

He nods at Nessela before walking toward the courtyard where Aemond is having fun bullying all the new recruits.

“ They don’t even know the proper stance. ” Aemond huffed angrily over all the recruits who lay on the cold ground panting like they were just running for their lives.

“ They’re young, brother. ” James reminded Aemond.

Aemond rolled his eye. “ Even Alyssa knows how to properly handle a sword .”

“ They don’t have Daemon Targaryen as a father and mentor; also, they’re not warriors; most of them are merely farmers. ”

“Fine!” Aemond spat, “On your feet!” He roared, “Up!” He smacked one young recruit's hamstring with the fuller of his wooden sword. “Up your lazy ass!” He smacked another recruit’s leg.

James shook his head; his brother became more and more like their father.

“Water?” James offers his water pouch to Cregan, who is covered in sweat and dirt; the young man looks disheveled, like he has been through a storm.

“Thank you, prince Jaehaerys.” He said while receiving the pouch.

James pouted, “I told you to call me James; we are friends.”

Cregan only replied with a small smile.

“Is the training too hard on you?” James asked.

Harriet

“Are we in a different castle? How come a crumbling, miserable castle a week ago turns pristine in a short amount of time?” Daemon asked.

“Daaaad!” Alyssa shrieks in joy as she runs toward Daemon.

Daemon feigns a loud grunt when Alyssa crashes onto him, "There you are, my precious star." He said before lifting her up and giving her cheek wet and loud kisses that made her squeal. “Did you do all of this, my dear?” He gestured to the freshly repaired castle.

Harriet caught glimpses of James flinching; his body language became tense, and he looked uncomfortable, like bracing for the worst. Did something happen to her son while she was away?

“James and I fix the castle while Aemond beats the newbie's asses!” Alyssa answered.

James blinks at Alyssa; he looks relieved? What truly happens when they are away?

“Language.” Daemon flicked Alyssa’s nose softly. “Lady don't swear.”

Alyssa herself immediately scrunched her nose at Daemon. “But, Mum, swear! A Lot!”

Harriet cringes; she does swear a lot, especially in distressing situations.

“Your mum is the strongest person on this planetos, she can do whatever she wants.”

Harriet rolls her eyes at her husband’s logic.

“That is not fair!”

“Life is never fair, my precious.” Daemon flicks Alyssa's nose. “I thought you learned that by now.”

Alyssa responded by huffing and puffing, which only greatly amused Daemon. “What else did all of you do when we were away?” He asked next.

Alyssa's demeanor changed; she was always happy when she talked about her siblings. “While Aemond bullied the new recruits, James  cut down a huuuggeee tree and filled the shed with firewood to the roof!” Her hand made a big circle to emphasize how big the tree was.

“Hey! I’m training them!” Aemond protested.

“He made those poor muggles crawl on the mud; he is a worse bully than you.” Alyssa whispers in Daemon’s ear.

Daemon laughs while nuzzling the tip of his nose on Alyssa’s cheek.

Alyssa squeals in delight; she grabs both Daemon’s cheeks and then asks, “Did you find it?” She asked next.

“Unfortunately, no, but we happened to encounter many creatures.”

“Really!?!” Alyssa's eyes beamed in excitement. “Ice Spiders? Direwolves? Giants?” Her voice is getting higher and higher with all the excitement.

Daemon smiles while nodding.

“Did you kill all of them?!”

“Only one who threatened us; your mother did the most work; all I did was stab here and there.” Daemon answered as he poked Alyssa's stomach and thigh, making her squeal.

“If your dad didn’t stab here and there, we wouldn’t know that Ice spiders have more than one heart.” Harriet added.

“Truly?!” Alyssa asks in excitement, which contrasts with all the horrified looks on other people's faces in the background.

“That’s a close call,” Daemon told Harriet.

“Indeed.” Harriet agreed.

“I told you to bring me there! I can set the spider on fire! Or strike it with lightning!”

“Can you?” Daemon asked in amusement.

“I can—you know that!” Alyssa puffed her cheek.

The bell rang on the tower, informing everyone that the supper was ready. Harriet, Daemon, and their children joined the supper; they sat at the high table where Lord Commander and Maester Gormon sat.

“And who is this whelp? Why did he share a table with us?” Daemon asked while pointing his knife at the young man who kept shadowing Aemond and James from the courtyard to the hall.

“Dad, you’re being rude.” James protested.

Both Lord Commander and Maester Gormon look like they wanted to say something but seem too afraid of Daemon; they decide to stare at their plate like it was the most captivating plate they had ever seen in their lives.

“What did I tell you about taking in a stray?” Daemon asked James.

James gasped in disbelief at his father, “Cregan is not a stray!”

“You named him?!” Daemon feigned surprise.

James looks completely speechless.

Suddenly the young man—Cregan—cleared his throat and said, “Greetings, Prince Daemon, Lady Harriet, apologies for the late—”

“Overdue.” Daemon cut the young man off mid-sentence.

Cregan nods acknowledgment, “I apologize for my overdue introduction.” He corrects himself calmly, a bit wary, but the young man doesn't look intimidated by Daemon’s presence. “My name is Cregan, of house Stark.”

Hearing Cregan’s last name, Daemon's whole demeanor changed; playfulness disappeared completely from his expression. “What warden of the north is doing this far north without a single guard?” he interrogates Cregan coldly.

“I’m not here to seek you or your family, my prince. I can assure you that none of the Northerners are even aware of your presence here in the North.” Cregan explains carefully.

“He fled from the assailant that was sent by his uncle.” Aemond finally breaks his silence, looking all impatient.

“Cregan almost died; James, heal him.” Alyssa added.

“You did?” Harriet, filled with pride, asked her son.

James answered with a sheepish smile.

“Then why haven’t you called your bannermen and reclaimed your ancestral seat already?” Daemon continues interrogating Cregan.

“We’re currently in harvesting season, my prince; calling bannermen now means letting the crops wilt.”

“If you wait for the last grain harvested, your uncle would already kill every single person that could verify your identity.” Daemon nonchalantly said.

“I’m aware, but the north cannot afford crop failure.” Cregan stood strong in his decision.

“We can help!” James suddenly suggests.

“No, we wouldn’t help.” Daemon responded with a cold demeanor.

“But, Dad—”

Daemon lifted his forefinger to silence James. “We do not even meddle with our family dispute. Why in the Gods' name would we meddle with this man, who is practically a stranger's problem?”

Aemond spoke before James could utter another protest, “We should help him, Daemon,” he said.

Both Daemon and Harriet appeared shocked; they hadn't anticipated that Aemond would propose such a suggestion. Of all people, he is the most practical and no-nonsense person in this family.

“If we leave him, he would definitely be dead, and that would mean we would waste Wiggenweld Potion that had been spent to save his life.” Aemond explains.

James gasped loudly, “Brother!”

Aemond pretends not to hear James as he continues to eat his food.

Daemon fell silent for a moment, and once he registered Aemond’s explanation, he clenched his jaw as he glared daggers at James.

Harriet swore if Daemon were an animagus, he would already have turned into a fire-breathing dragon.

“I can explain!” James quickly defended himself.

“Jaehaerys James Targaryen—” Daemon half growled, controlling his anger, “What part of ‘emergency’ didn’t you understand?”

Harriet noticed that, one by one, the Nightwatch from the other table began sneaking out of the hall, clearly terrified of Daemon.

“It is an emergency, Dad. Wiggenweld Potion is the only way to save Cregan; there are a dozen stabbing wounds—” James's voice gradually became quieter upon seeing Daemon getting angrier by the second.

“You—!”

Harriet put her hand over Daemon’s clenched fist. “Don’t,” she said softly. “You will say something you will regret.”

Gritting his teeth, Daemon slammed the table hard as he stood up, causing everyone around him to flinch in fear.

Harriet also stood up; she put her palm over Daemon’s heart. “ Let’s go outside, ” she said softly.

“It’s the last—” Daemon closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, trying his best to not explode.

“I know, my love.” Harriet said while rubbing Daemon’s chest, "Let’s go outside, find Caraxes, and maybe fly a bit." She suggested with hope that the northern wind might be cold enough to temper her husband's wrath.

Daemon, eyes still closed, nodded.

“Aemond, watch your siblings.” Harriet said.

Aemond nodded. “I will.”

Harriet gives James, who looks so guilty, an assured smile before leading Daemon outside.

Chapter Text

Castle Black - Harriet

Daemon outstretched his open hand toward James. “Your bag.” He demands coldly.

“Why?” He asked while carefully handing over his enchanted bag.

Daemon chose not to respond; instead, he placed James' enchanted bag on the table and began removing its content. He carefully inspected all potions one by one; once he reached the half-empty Wiggenweld potion, his jaw once again hardened.

James scoots closer to Harriet for comfort; his poor boy looks so guilty and sad.

Daemon took a deep breath before calling Aemond.

“Yes?” Aemond asked.

“Since James has proven to be irresponsible and impulsive, I decided that you will be the one responsible for handling these potions from now on,” Daemon said.

James's jaw fell, displaying utter speechlessness and hurt.

Aemond looked uncomfortable as he carefully put all those potion vials into his own enchanted bag. Harriet believed that her eldest child didn’t expect things to escalate this much, as Daemon usually treats James leniently.

“Dad…” James called Daemon weakly.

“What?” Daemon asked coldly. “Did you have another artifact you wanted to delegate to your brother?” 

James’ lower lip trembled slightly, his eyes glistening with tears. “I apologize for disappointing you…” James took a shaking breath, trying his best not to cry.

Harriet gently placed her hand on her son's shoulder. She catches the tail of her husband's eyes twitching. Although her husband can pretend to be cold and stern, Harriet knows that, like her, he is also heartbroken to see their firstborn so distraught.

“…However…” James clenched his fist. “I wouldn’t apologize for saving Cregan's life.” He finally spoke, his eyes blazing with a mix of tears and determination.

“Suit yourself.” It's all, Daemon said before leaving the room with Alyssa in tow.

James’ shoulder began to tremble.

“Harriet… uh…” Aemond scratches the back of his neck, looking all uncomfortable.

“The potion book?” Harriet opens her trunk with the Elder Wand and then accios the said book to Aemond's open hands.

“Thanks, I will return after memorizing everything.” Aemond said this before hurriedly leaving the room.

“Oh, James.” Harriet sighs when she sees James’ tears finally fall.

James didn’t move from his position, just sobbing silently while staring at his feet.

Harriet hugged her son and began to pat his back softly. “There, there, my dear.” 

“Dad hates me.” James sobbed on Harriet’s shoulder.

“Don’t be silly; your dad would never be able to hate you,” Harriet said softly. “You’re our pride, our firstborn.”

Sounding unconvinced, he asked again, “Do you think dad will ever forgive me?”

“Oh, of course, he will.” Harriet assured her son. “All you need to do is give your dad time.”

“I'm so mad at myself.” James said after some time, “You’re not here… I barely managed to close all of Cregan’s stabbing wounds… the potion—” he choked a sob.

“The potion is the only way you know that would keep Cregan alive. Harriet finished her son’s sentence.

James nodded before sobbing even harder, “I'm sorry, mum…”

Harriet shushes James softly as she gently sways him in her embrace, “You only made a slight misjudgment. Making mistakes is part of growing up, remember?” 

James pouted, “You and Dad never make mistakes.”

“That’s not true; your dad and I just don't make the same mistakes twice.” Harriet, smile.

“I…don’t understand…”

“People make mistakes, James. Becoming an adult means taking responsibility for your mistakes and learning from them."

James' shoulder slumped.

Harriet cupped both James’ cheeks, tilting his head slightly so their eyes would meet. “You already atoned for your mistake by apologizing to your dad; now you have to learn to prioritize your family above others.”

James pressed his lips together. "I just want to help."

A savior complex, Harriet sighs; undoubtedly, James inherited it from her. “I know, my dear, but we cannot help everyone.”

James sniffled. 

“We truly cannot help everyone, James. Last time I tried to save Ginny, I was almost killed by the Basilisk, and remember when I tried to save everyone from Voldemort, I needed to be dead for what? Half an hour?” Harriet snickered.

James let out a wet laugh. “You're crazy, mum.” 

Harriet winks at her son.

James suddenly pulls Harriet into a tight embrace. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, my baby.” Harriet replied softly.

“Mum! I'm not a baby!” James protested.

“You will always be my baby, even when you are old and gray.” Harriet kisses her son's cheek fondly before resting her cheek on top of James' head.

“How long exactly do you plan to punish James?” Harriet asked.

“We are not revising this topic again, Harry.” Daemon answered with annoyance.

“It's how he is, Daemon. You know him more than he knows himself.”

Daemon's eyes hardened. 

Harriet cupped Daemon’s cheek and ran her thumb over his cheekbone. “Forgive him.” She pleaded.

Daemon remained silent; he closed his eyes and leaned on Harriet's touch.

“It's been done; the potion has been spent, but there’s still plenty left for our children; they may not even have to use the potion at all. As long as we keep them safe, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Daemon opened his eyes, his violet irises darkened under dim light.

“Our children are more than capable of defending themselves; there's nothing to worry about, Daemon."

Daemon wraps his arms around Harriet’s waist, pulls her into a hug, and rests his head on her chest.

“Everything will be alright.” She reassured him with a gentle pat on the back.

Daemon let out a long sigh. “Three more days.” He mumbled.

“What?”

“I want to torment James for three more days to ensure the lesson sinks in.”

Harriet snorted, “You impossible evil dragon!”

“You’re an evil dragon.” He chuckled.

Harriet bent slightly to kiss the top of Daemon’s head. “Three days, and you will stop antagonizing our son.”

“…Fine.”

Winterfell—Bennard Stark.

“Patience, cousin; every available Stark guard has been deployed to search for them,” Bennard Stark said calmly despite his raging heart inside his chest. He kept reminding himself that this action was necessary.

“Patience?!” Harrion Karstark exploded, “How dare you ask Patience from me?!” He slammed his fist on the table, making the solid wood crack. “My son is out there and probably dead!”

“Your son is alive.” Bennard lied through his teeth. He knew for sure that his nephew Cregan and his companions Rickard Karstark and Artos Umber were dead, and their corpses were left in the woods to be eaten by wolves.

Well, at least that's what the assassins he hired told him before he killed them all to cover his tracks.

“We must send more men.” Mors Umber said, “I will send a missive to Last Hearth to request more men!”

Bennard stood up and held Mors Umber back. “We need all the men we have to harvest the crops before they start to wither.” He reasoned calmly; he needed to be sure that those boys did not discover too quickly; they needed to be in pieces so nothing could be traced back to him.

Mors let out a frustrated yell before slamming his head on the wall.

Bennard couldn't help but feel a little pang of guilt for his old friend; he knew how Mors loved his brother Artos, but it had to be done.

It had to be done.

Bennard forget how many times he has uttered those words already.

“The Stark guards will find them soon.” Bennard assures Mors while making a mental list of things that are needed for his nephew’s funeral.

“Soon is not good enough! The trio had been missing for a week! Mors yelled.

“The three of them are more than capable of surviving in the wild like all northerners do.”

Surviving wildlife they may, but the assassins Bennard hides among their small entourage?

Harrison stood up. “I cannot wait any longer! The crops may wilt, but all I can do is—"

“Dragons!” People shouted outside, followed by an earth-shaking roar: “Dragons!” People yell even louder.

Bennard’s office door swung open. “Regent Stark! There's a dragon flying low above Winterfell!” Shout-out to the Guard who stood by his door.

Bernard spared no time as he grabbed his cloak and made a run toward the courtyard.

There among gray clouds in the gloomy winter sky, Bennard saw three massive Dragons, one red, one green, and the biggest of them all, black as night.

“It's Prince Daemon Targaryen and his family.” Maester Castos declared",

“Are you sure, master?” Bennard asked,

Castos nodded. “The red one is Caraxes, owned by Prince Daemon; the green one is Vhagar, owned by prince Aemond; and lastly, the Black one is Ancalagon, formerly known as The Cannibal, owned by Grand Prince Jaehaerys.”

“What are Daemon Targaryen and his family doing this far north?”

“I'm afraid you have to find the answer by yourself, Regent Stark. No ravens have arrived to announce their visit." Castos answered flatly.

Bernard clicked his tongue in displeasure.

“Prince Daemon, welcome to Winterfell.” Bennard greeted the fierce Dragon Prince and his family with his best smile.

Daemon Targaryen gave Bennard a side glance, as if he considered him nothing more than dirt on his boots, then dismissively waved his hand at the maid who brought bread and salt, saying, “There’s no need for that.” he told the maid,

Benard frowned deeply. “Are you refusing the hospitality of Winterfell, my prince?”

“Spare me of your false courtesy….” Daemon Targaryen stares at Bennard. “Who are you, again?” he asks Bennard in the most condescending tone he's ever heard in his lifetime.

Bernard bit his tongue. “My name is Bennard Stark, Prince Daemon.”

“Ah! The infamous regent of Winterfell.” He scoffed.

“I beg your pardon? Bennard couldn't believe what he was hearing; he had singlehandedly brought his house to even greater prosperity than his brother ever could; how dare this southerner treat him like this?!

“My Family and I didn’t come all the way here to be your guest, Regent Stark.” Daemon Targaryen said, “I came here to straighten something out.”

Bennard blinked in confusion, yet before he could utter another question, Mors Umber split the crowd to approach them: “Prince Daemon! Prince Daemon!” He yelled, “My Prince! My name is Mors of house Umber; I beg for your aid!”

“Whatever you need from me, Mors of house Umber?” Daemon asked,

“My dearest little brother, Artos, young lord Cregan and Rickard Karstark had been missing for a week! We have searched everywhere to no avail; please aid us in searching for them, my prince.”

No! They must not be found! Not yet!

“Mors, you have lost your mind; how could you burden Prince Daemon with our problem?” Bennardies tries to persuade Mors while trying to pull him away from the Targaryen Prince.

Mors breaks free from Bennard's grasp, then drops to his knees in front of Daemon Targaryen and starts wailing, “Please, my prince, I beg you.” the olaf grabbed both Daemon Targaryen’s hands and said, “If something happened to Artos, I wouldn't be able to face our late mother in the afterlife!”

Benard couldn’t help but feel a second embarrassment from seeing his friend beg like a dog for a southerner. “Harrion! help me!” he said while trying to make Mors stand up.

Harrion approached them, and instead of helping Bennard lift Mors off the ground, he also dropped to his knees, saying, “If you help us, Karstark will forever be indebted to you, Prince Daemon.” Harrion uttered these words with conviction.

Benard feels as though he wants to rip out his hair.

“I wouldn’t lie; I’m thrilled at the possibility of having two major houses in the North indebted to me; alas, I don’t think it’s necessary to search for the three missing boys.”

The entire courtyard fell silent and stared at Daemon Targaryen as if he were a heartless monster.

Daemon Targaryen put his hand upon Mors’ shoulder. “I didn’t diminish the value of your younger brother’s life, dear Mors. However—” The southerner bestowed upon Bennard a menacing smile that shivered through his spine. “ It would be faster to ask our dear Regent Stark here about the whereabouts of the three young nobles."

Bennard's heart falls to the pit of his stomach.

No! No! No.

Daemon Targaryen smiled knowingly at Bennard. “Bennard Stark, what happened to your nephew Cregan Stark, Rickard Karstark, and Artos Umber?”

Chapter Text

Bennard Stark

“What are you talking about, Prince Daemon?” Bennard asks between nervous laughs. “My nephew and his companion went missing during the hunt; that’s all I know.” 

Daemon Targaryen clicked his tongue in displeasure as he grabbed Bennard's eldest boy, Benjen, and dragged him across the courtyard toward a hitching post.

Then, without any warning, Daemon Targaryen suddenly nailed Benjen's palm to the post with a short blade.

Benjen immediately screamed in horror as he saw the blade run through his hand like a knife through butter.

Daemon Targaryen said, “Stay still; struggle only worsens the pain.” He held Benjen’s wrist to prevent the boy from yanking his hand free.

“Prince Daemon, what have you done?!!” Bennard yells in horror.

Entirely ignoring Bennard, The Dragon Prince called for his spawn. “Aemond, James, come here!” 

Two young Targaryen princes approached them; the one with an eye patch looked calm and collected, while the one with mismatched eyes looked clearly suppressing his emotions.

Daemon Targaryen mercilessly pulls the blade from Benjen’s palm, spraying Bennard’s firstborn’s blood everywhere. “James, heal the boy.” He spoke casually while showing everyone the gaping hole in Benjen’s palm.

People in the courtyard gasped in horror; some women even fainted at the sight.

“My prince! This is barbaric!” Bennard yells in protest while restraining his wife from lunging at the smug Dragon Prince.

The mismatched-eyed Targaryen Prince took a deep breath before hovering his hand over Benjen’s bloodied palm. Suddenly, the gaping wound on Benjen’s palm completely disappeared, only leaving a trail of dry blood.

People around them once again let out a collective gasp, but this time in a mix of surprise and awe.

Bennard heard people murmuring about miracles, witchcraft, and godsend in the background.

“See? There’s no mortal harm done to the boy.” Daemon Targaryen, looking all smug, patted Benjen’s bloodied hand. "Now, Aemond," he smiled, "stab the boy every time Bennard Stark lies or fails to answer my question."

“Understood.” Aemond Targaryen answered dutifully with his Valyrian short blade ready in hand.

Aemond

“Please, I can’t take it anymore! Please have mercy!” Benjen wailed.

“ Be strong, James .” Aemond whispered in Valyrian when he saw James getting paler each second that passed.

James nodded weakly.

“ If we didn’t do this, Daemon would take the matter into his hands, and this boy would definitely die. ”

“ You think I didn’t know what our dad was capable of doing? ” James hissed between his gritted teeth.

‘Our dad,’ 

Oh, how many times Aemond had wished to the old gods and new to make him the true-born son of Daemon and Harriet Targaryen.

But no, the gods hate him; not only did they take his eye, they also made him born from the seed of a lesser, weak dragon who fell ill because of a scraped wound on his finger!

“ If you know, then straighten your back! ” Aemon spat, unleashing anger that had been bubbling inside his stomach.

James glared at Aemond while straightening his back.

“ Good, now heal him. ” Aemond said more softly after realizing that he directed his anger and hurt onto the wrong person.

Warm breeze emitted from James’ palm, and in the blink of an eye the wound once again vanished.

Benjen Stark endured a couple more stabbings and healings before suddenly passing out, his eyes rolled alarmingly to the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground.

“I thought Northerners would be tougher than that.” Daemon clicked his tongue in displeasure. “Aemond, go grab Bennard’s other boy.” He ordered.

Aemond approached the second oldest boy.

“No! Not my Brandon!” Margaret Karstark wailed loudly as she embraced her secondborn tighter.

Aemond mercilessly yanked the panicking boy from his mother's grasp.

“Brandon! Brandon!” Margaret yelled desperately while being held back by Harrion Karstark.

Aemond stomach churns when he finally realizes how young the boy he is about to torture is.

Seven Hells! This boy probably won’t last the third stab!

Also, what if this boy was out cold before Daemon got his confession? There’s only one child left, and he’s barely a toddler.

Surely Daemon wouldn’t push him to torture a baby… would he?

Aemond looked at the confused baby who clung to his mother's skirt; he suddenly felt his stomach knotted so tightly he wanted to throw up.

Daemon must have his confession.

“If you know anything, say it right now and spare yourself from pain.” Aemond said this before pinning Brandon’s hand against the bloodied hitching post.

Aemond tried his best to picture Lucerys Velaryon's face on the young Brandon as he raised his blade high in the air.

Then, right before the blade touches the back of his hand, Brandon yells, “They’re dead!” 

The entire chaotic courtyard instantly fell silent.

Aemond pulls his blade away.

James let out a quiet, long sigh of relief before leaning toward Aemond.

“Cousin Cregan, Cousin Rickard, and Artos are dead!” The boy added frantically.

Aemond felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he saw a sadistic smile slowly form on Daemon’s face.

Aemond realized that his uncle never truly mellowed down after marrying Harriet and having two children; he just got better control of his inner dragon.

“The boy lied!” Bennard let out an awkward laugh. "He doesn't know what he is talking about; you know how kids love to imagine things.”

“Are you?” Daemon looming over pitiful Brandon.

Brandon's eyes went impossibly wide at Daemon like he just saw a living embodiment of a demon.

The pitiful boy let out a terrified shriek, then he shut his eyes close in fear. “N-No!” the pitiful boy shook his head furiously. “I'm telling the truth! I swear I'm telling the truth!” The boy started bawling. “Please! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Lie!” Bennard began to yell desperately.

“Grandmother also knows about the plan! Ask her!” Brandon shouted before hiccuping, ‘Please.’ Over and over again, like a broken record, inside Harriet’s trunk.

Another round of collective gasps was heard.

“My—my—” Daemon, looking all amused, clicked his tongue. “What kind of grandmother wishes death upon her own grandchildren?”

“That mutt is no grandchild of mine!” Lady Lysa Locke spat. “Flaunting his vile grandfather's face wherever he went! Disgusting!”

“Mother!” Bennard went impossibly pale.

“I need a chair and a cold drink.” Aemond told the nearby servants that he needed a chair and a cold drink while he wiped dry blood from his hand with a damp cloth.

The said servant went beyond pale; she stared at Aemond like she was looking at a mythical monster.

“Do you not understand mother tongue?” Aemond asks sarcastically.

The servant shook her head furiously before scrambling to her feet, fetching a cold drink and a chair.

“I will not be ashamed of my choice!” The old-clearly-mad Lady Locke yells at the top of her lungs. “I have suffered silently all these years! They owe me Winterfell!”

“Yep, confirmed mad.” Aemond settled on a rather fancy chair that two servants brought for him.

James looked all unimpressed at Aemond.

“What? When will a family drama like this ever end swiftly?” Aemond quickly hovers his hand over James’s mug, preventing him from sipping the cold ale right away. “Diagnostic spell first.” He reminded him.

James huffed, “you are paranoid like dad.”

“Only a fool would eat anything served in a kinslayer home, my dear foolish brother.”

“It’s clean.” James rolled his eyes.

“See? Not that hard.” Aemond commented before drinking his own ale.

James scowls, only getting deeper.

“I told you not to scowl in a public setting; you’re a Targaryen prince, not a stable boy.”

James gives Aemon the fakest smile he could give.

“James.” Aemond warns him.

“ It's not like there’s anyone who would dare to criticize my manner. ” Retort in Valyrian.

"There will always be at least one person foolish enough to criticize you." Aemond ruffles James’ bird nest hair and says, " If it comes to that, either Daemon or I would have to kill that person to protect your honor. "

Aemond watched Cregan finally remove his cloak and reveal his face. The entire courtyard held its breath. “Brandon, speak the truth.” He announced.

“ I can protect my own honor! And why did you and dad always take everything to the extreme? There are many other ways to punish someone! ”

“ If anyone thinks they could make a fool of one of our family members with impunity, then we are no longer a family to be feared .”

"Targaryens and their obsession to be feared." He huffed.

“ You think these stupid andal lords, would remain kneeling to us if they did not fear us? ”

James' lips became thin.

“Look what they are capable of doing to their kin,” Aemond pointed at Lysa Locke and Bennard Stark. “You think they would pass up the chance to obliterate us and take our crown?”

“Cregan, what happened to Artos?!” Mors Umber grabs Cregan by his shoulder and starts shaking him senselessly.

Cregan put his hand firmly on Mors’ broad shoulder, stopping the oaf “Brandon, speak the truth,” he repeated. “Artos and Rickard… they’re dead…”

Mors Umber gasped loudly, “No…” The big oaf fell to his knees.

“Rickard and Artos, they sacrificed their lives so I could survive the assassins my uncle planted upon my hunting party.” 

Crowd’s murmur became more prominent; some even dared to point their finger at Lysa Locke and Bennard Stark.

“Kinslayer!” Mors Umber roared like a battle cry.

Cregan acted quickly; he held Mors down before the olaf could draw his battle-axe and split Bennard Stark in half.

On the other side of the crowd, Harrion Karstark pushed Margaret down to the cold ground. “Rickard is your Nephew!” he yelled at his sister.

“Leave my wife out of it! She didn’t know anything!” Bennard yells.

“Why should I believe the word of a kinslayer?” The lord of Karhold spat.

James sighs, “ I'm tired of living like this. ”

Aemond scoffed, “ Feel free to live as a commoner; I won’t stop you. I'm actually curious how long you could last .”

“I may thrive!” James spat, completely in denial.

“I highly doubt it.” Aemond laughed even harder when he saw how offended James became. “My gullible brother.” he shook his head in amusement, then finished the rest of the cold Ale in his mug. “ You are blessed with magical abilities; you are blessed to be bonded with the most feared dragon in this world, and you are blessed to belong to the most powerful family in this realm .”

James stares wide-eyed at Aemond.

Aemond gives his empty mug to a nearby servant. “ Did you know how many people would gladly die to have a glimpse of your blessing? ” he asked while watching the Starks’s drama finally reach its conclusion, and Cregan orders the Starks’s guard to apprehend Bennard and his treacherous family. 

Only Bennard and Lyssa Locke resist the capture; the rest of the traitor family look dejected.

Aemond cupped James’ cheek. “I didn’t ask you to be Daemon, nor am I asking you to be me,” Aemond pinched Jame’s cheek fondly. “I just need you to stop whining like a girl,” he grins.

“I am not–!” 

James' protest was cut short by Alyssa’s distress shriek, “Mummy!”

Aemond stares in horror at the sight of Harriet being held at knifepoint by Bennard who demands he and his family be released.

“Give me and my family safe passage to White Harbor, or this woman will die!” Bennard shouted.

“Mummy is fine, Lyssa; no need to be upset," Harriet said calmly, despite knowing that a blade was hanging dangerously close to her throat.

" I can't disarm him; the blade is too close to mum's throat ." James told Daemon, who looked like he was going to turn into a very angry Dragon.

"It's okay, James." Harriet smiled, "Daemon, love, give this man his demand, would you?"

Daemon let out an upset breath. "You heard my wife! Drop your sword, bring the horses!" he yells at the guards. "Clear the courtyard!"

Aemond watched Bennard hurry his family to mount horses while the courtyard was being cleared of townspeople.

Why didn't Harriet fight back? Aemond knows she is more than capable of snapping Bennard's neck with a flick of her wrist.

Why didn't she do anything? What is she waiting for?!

Once the courtyard was finally clear of all lurkers, Aemond saw a translucent-like veil slowly engulf Harriet whole. "You should really surrender when you can," she said.

"What are you talking about, woman?" Bennard demands.

Harriet pointed her finger up to the sky; from the clouds, Caraxes descended upon them with its mouth open wide, ready to spit fire.

"You will burn too!" Bennard yells in panic.

"You sure?" Harriet asks right before Caraxes' flame engulfs both of them.

Otto Hightower—King's Landing.

"Ridiculous!" Otto scoffed. "It must be a made-up story; no one ever survives dragon's fire!"

"But, there are so many witnesses stating that Lady Harriet was truly untouched by Caraxes' fire while Bennard Stark was completely burned, Lord Hand." said Grand Maester Owrlye.

"She is a Witch and witches cannot be burned, my lord," added Jasper Wlyde.

"Enough of this nonsense!" Otto slammed the table with his fists. "What we need to discuss is how to prevent Daemon Targaryen from spreading his influence further; we already lost Dorne, the North, The Trident, Claw isle and half of the Reach!"

"Prince Daemon also had full support from The Thirtheen of Qarth and Triarchs of Volantis." Larys Strong added.

The council instantly turns grim.

Otto never thought Daemon could do something like this, how could someone so despised turn out to be loved by so many in such a short amount of time?!

Otto's irritation increased upon realizing that his entire effort to discredit that bastard had been in vain!

"My Lord Hand." Larys Strong raises his hand slightly.

"Yes, Lord Strong?"

"I think we must proceed with the betrothal between Prince Aemond and Lord Baratheon's eldest Daughter to strengthen our influence in the Stormlands."

"Yes." Otto agrees, "We should."