Chapter Text
“Tell me, Uncle. Was your plan to ruin my reputation, or was that just an added bonus for you?”
Rhaenyra’s voice cut through the silence of Daemon’s chambers, where the man had just stumbled through the door, beer-soaked and exhausted. She had made her way there through the tunnels, having heard the confrontation between him and her father in the throne room.
The Daemon who stood before her was a million miles away from the uncle she had always admired, hunched and filthy, moving slowly as if he’d been poisoned rather than had a night of heavy drinking. He looked up at her sheepishly, eyes closing for a moment as if to prepare himself for the confrontation.
“You really think so ill of me, Princess?” He asked, heading to the table holding a jug of wine to pour himself a glass. After a moment’s thought, he poured another for Rhaenyra, holding it out for her as a peace offering.
“I didn’t.” She said, ignoring his offer, a small smirk on her face as she watched his hand drop eventually, putting the drink down on the table with a sigh. “That was before you left me in a brothel, of course.”
Her voice was sharp, formal. Careful in a way she rarely was with him. She was leaning against a pillar, watching him mirror her position against the opposite wall, her staring at him, him staring at the floor, an unfathomable distance between them. “I made it home safe, in case you were wondering. Quite an achievement, given the patrons of that lovely establishment. Some of whom were lucky to keep their hands.”
He glanced up at her at that, at the thought she might be hurt. He knew it was foolish, to leave her there, to let her fend for herself, but he hadn’t been thinking straight at the time. His brain had been addled by the wine and by her touch. Undone in a way that he had never quite experienced before.
“I shouldn’t have left you there.” He murmured, voice quiet, hollow.
“No.” She agreed, meeting his gaze. “You shouldn’t have.”
It was hardly his only crime, but it had been the one that hurt the most. Leaving her, abandoning her, after letting her so close. She was left confused, humiliated, thoughts bouncing around her head as she tried to understand what had happened. How she had gone from the most exhilarating night of her life to being lost and alone, used and discarded.
“Did you plan for that?” She asked, quiet, not sure if she wanted the answer. After years of people warning her against Daemon, warning her not to trust her Uncle, he had finally proven them right. Proven that he wasn’t to be trusted, that he didn’t have her best interests at heart after all.
“No, Princess.” He said, taking a gulp of the wine to steel his nerves, hoping it would soothe the hangover he’d inflicted upon himself. He was stalling for time, trying to find the right words, the right thing to say to stop her looking like that at him, so cold, so distant. “Rhaenyra…”
He stood, crossing the room to be closer to her, hoping that physical touch might calm her, might close the distance between them. He saw her flinch backwards, physically recoil as he stepped closer, and he was shocked by how much it hurt.
“Do not touch me, Uncle.” She said, disgust dripping from her voice. She wrinkled her nose as she smelt him, stale and wine-soaked, all manner of things soaked into his clothes. “You look and smell like you spent the night in the sewers. You’re a mess.”
She stepped around him, heading to the table and getting the glass he had poured for her, their positions reversed now. She downed half the cup, trying to settle herself, strengthen her resolve. “Either you planned it, which is cruel, or you hadn’t even considered the consequences, which makes you a fool. Which was it?”
Daemon turned slowly, trying to figure out which answer would make her less angry with him. “Perhaps I intended for you to be seen.” He said, noticing the fury on her face. “Were you a man, no one would question it. It’s a rite of passage, to spend an evening in a brothel. Your father took me to my first himself, when I was-“
“I am not a man, as you are well aware.” She cut him off, furious.
“No. You are a Queen. Or-“ He cut himself off at her sharp glance. “You will be. You shouldn’t have to be held to any societal conventions.” He said, finally turning away from her. “You should be allowed to take what you want.”
He crossed the room, stripping off his shirt as he did so and going to the wash basin, trying to clean off the grime of the previous night. He was hardly in the mood to fight her right now, but he knew she was unlikely to back down right now.
She watched him, watched the muscles of his back flexing, the scars scattered across his skin that she had yet to have a chance to see. How casual he was, with his undressing. How easy it was for him to shed his clothes, uncaring of his audience. Or maybe it was just her, maybe she was the exception. She silently cursed herself for being so easily swayed, just by his nakedness.
“But I am held to those conventions.” She said, frowning. She watched as he cleaned himself up, trying to find the right words to express her pain. “What we did…Who would marry me now?” She watched as he stood turning back to her, and held out a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Do not suggest yourself. You really think I would let you anywhere near me after this?”
Daemon smirked at her fierceness, her ability to read his mind. He crossed the room back to her again, stepping into her space, intrigued by the defiant way she tilted her chin to look up at him. She may have been smaller than him, but like this, with this much anger burning inside her, she held power. “It’s interesting that your mind went straight to me, Princess.” He said, tracing his knuckles against the indignant flush across her cheek.
Part of her wanted to close her eyes, to lean into his touch, but she could not let him gain the upper hand. This close, she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, the same warmth that she had felt the night before, beckoning her in, a desperate craving to be close. She reached up to bat his hand away, frowning when he caught her hand, holding it to his chest.
“Last night was meant to be a lesson. To show you that you deserved to have whoever you wanted, however you wanted them. You deserve to be worshipped, Princess.” He said, rubbing his thumb across her knuckle. “I just never expected you to want me.” He whispered, a quiet confession.
“Then you truly are a fool.” She whispered back, voice softer than it had been so far. “For I have wanted you for as long as I have known what wanting is.” She said softly, a confession she never intended to make. How could she not want him, so charming and gentle, only with her? She had always known that she was an exception to him, the only one she deemed worthy of affection.
“Rhaenyra….” He murmured, bringing his hand up to cup her face, holding her gently.
She wrenched herself out of his grasp, stepping away and heading towards the passageway from where she had entered. “Clean yourself up, Daemon. I’m going to convince my father that sending you back to the Vale now would only draw further suspicion.”
He quirked an eyebrow, trying to figure out how she had known that Viserys had demand he leave the city. “I was there. In the throne room. I heard everything.” She explained, pushing on the false wall. “And if you think that was all it would take to win my hand, you are sorely mistaken.” She said, glancing back at him a final time, before disappearing through the hole in the wall.