Archive of Our Own

Oh how he loves to make her laugh. 

Rhaenyra has a beautiful laugh, one that overtakes her full body. She’ll press one hand to her stomach desperately trying to hold back the joy that shakes her from within. The other hand often finds itself resting against her lips, a poor attempt to hide the full face smile that even shows her gums. 

He likes to reach out then, to take her hand so he can better see the way her face lights up when she looks at him. 

Currently her giggles have her falling back in the plastic studio chair swerving it around so she faces away from the editing board in front of them. Her voice rings out along the walls of the studio. But they’re soundproof. The two of them are currently cushioned from the outside world and Daemon is grateful because it means that for today at least, his wife’s laugh is all for him. 

“I’m serious!” Daemon protests as he pinches the sound level bar between his fingertips. He slides it up, increasing the volume of the dialogue pumping out from the speakers. 

His eyes rise to scan the huge screen behind the glass in front of them where Rhaenyra, in character from footage shot months ago, crosses a pedestrian walkway over a busy overpass, her movements are rushed and unnatural as the footage plays at twice the normal speed. 

Daemon hits a button and the movie resumes in regular time, only now the horn honks and revved engines of the cars in the background fail to drown out Rhaenyra’s words.

Absorbed in his work, perfecting the movie he wrote to convince her to stay with him, he doesn’t notice as Rhaenyra slides closer until she rests her chin against his hunched shoulder. 

“I love the way you see me.” She whispers, her voice low and just for him.

“No.” He’s not disagreeing exactly, just aware of his own limitations. “I’m not sure I’ll ever truly capture you. I’m not sure anyone could.” 

He turns to face her, letting his nose brush tenderly against her own. This earns him another laugh. A softer one, accompanied by the feeling of her breath on his skin. 

She turns away from him and stares at the screen which is paused on a shot of Rhaenyra framed by the golden light of dusk, filtering through the chain link fence of the bridge she stands on.

“But you have! When I look at this,” she waves a hand towards the screen. “I see the way you love me. It’s the way I love you, reflected back.”

A blush creeps over her cheeks. He follows her gaze and sees the footage with new eyes. Her vision is there now, overlaid with his own. As she often does, Rhaenyra has inspired him to see something deeper in his own work. And it’s true that every minute of this film is dedicated to his love for her. 

He smiles. “Maybe you’re right. This is your movie after all.” He reaches over to tuck a short silver strand of hair behind her ear. It’s getting longer now, longer than when they first met.

“Ah yes! Myyyy movie.” She draws her words out, teasing him. “Written just for me by some lovesick filmmaker asking for forever.”

Daemon’s eyes drop to the band wrapped around Rhaenyra’s ring finger on her left hand, the one currently squeezing his arm with encouragement. “Seems like it worked.” He turns back to the film and narrows his eyes. “Yes, this will have to do. That is until you decide to show the world your own vision.”

Rhaenyra scoffs. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am.” He pauses the film once again and leans back in his chair, taking his time as he looks over the woman the world knows as Rhaenyra Arryn, former child star turned comeback kid. But they don’t know the real story. They don’t know what Rhaenyra has overcome. They don’t know her heart’s capacity to love despite having every reason not to let love in. They don’t know what she’s truly capable of. 

But he does. 

And it amazes him. 

He reaches over to brush her cheek. “There is nothing you can’t do, Rhaenyra. You deserve it all. Whatever life you want, it can be yours. If I know anything. I know that.” 

She looks at him then, with clear eyes that take in the truth of his words. As if he would ever lie to her. As if he was capable of holding himself back from her. 

“I eagerly await the day when I’m the one watching you behind the camera.” He adds with a smirk. Because he does. There is nothing Daemon loves more than a good story. And he is sure Rhaenyra will have plenty to tell in her future. 

No, he corrects himself, there is one thing he loves more… her. 

“We’ll see.” She says quietly.

Rhaenyra spins her wedding band around as she looks towards her own image on screen. A pensive moment passes before she shakes her head. “Anyway, back to reality, have we decided on plans for tomorrow?”

A smile twitches at Daemon’s lips but he quickly hides it, choosing to play ignorant instead. He furrows his brow and puffs out his bottom lip in mock thought. “Plans for what exactly? What’s tomorrow again?” 

Rhaenyra clicks her tongue and pokes his bicep with one finger. “Don’t play with me. I know that you know it’s Valentine’s Day. Our first!”

Now Daemon’s confusion is genuine. “How is it our first? I remember a particularly enchanting rose petal bath last year that—“

“I mean as husband and wife!” Rhaenyra pouts. “We should do something special.”

She need not worry. He has something very special in mind. But he’s not willing to spoil the surprise just yet.

He turns to her, resting his hands on her thighs and pulling her rolling chair closer. His knee slides between her legs, bumping the cushion of the seat. He’s close enough to place a feather-light kiss against her temple, then a slightly hungrier kiss against her lips. 

“I think a bath with my wife is very special.” His eyes swirling with lust.

She hums in response, annoyed by this answer. 

He pulls back so he can face her properly. “Let me take care of our Valentine’s Day plans. I promise you will not be disappointed.” 

The edges of her lips curl up as she tries to hide how pleased she is. But Daemon sees right through her. He knows what her happiness looks like. He spends every day devoted to it. 

Daemon goes back to editing the footage as Rhaenyra looks on, offering her suggestions and thoughts, sounding just like the great director that Daemon thinks she could be one day.

But there is one thing that escapes Rhaenyra’s perceptive gaze, the secret Daemon is keeping, the one that will be revealed tomorrow with the help of a little pink paper heart.

Warm bright light falls across Rhaenyra’s cheek as the sensation of morning stirs her awake. 

Eyes still clamped closed, Rhaenyra stretches her arms above her head feeling her bones creak into place, before her fisted hand hits a pile of Daemon’s books precariously stacked behind her in the headboard’s built-in bookcase. 

“Ow!” She pulls her arm back quickly and flips onto her side. “Your books–” She stops as her eyes open to find Daemon’s spot empty of the man she married. 

But there is evidence of his earlier presence: the dent in the double-stuffed pillow, the pulled back covers, and a single paper heart laying mysteriously on the sheets beside her.

Rhaenyra blinks to clear the sleep from her eyes, confused at this discovery. 

With tentative fingers she reaches out unfolding the pink paper to reveal two lines written in Daemon’s handwriting:

This is where your journey starts

Simply follow these tiny hearts

She flips the heart over, searching for a clue to what this strange couplet could mean. But there is no further explanation. No instructions on what exactly she’s supposed to follow. 

As she is reading the tiny poem for a second time, the doorbell rings. 

Still confused, Rhaenyra rolls out of bed and slides on a pair of fluffy slippers, holding the tiny valentine between two fingers as she rushes down the stairs. 

The image awaiting Rhaenyra at the door offers her no answers but it does have her stifling a laugh.

There, pouting on the stoop, is Laena Velaryon looking like she was dressed by Cupid himself! A pair of translucent red heart-shaped sunglasses sit atop her bouncing curls. Her white baby tee sports sequined cursive writing that reads “Sweetheart.” And a leather bag slung over her shoulder is covered in red roses. All that’s missing is a pair of wings.

Rhaenyra narrows her eyes, suddenly suspicious of the Valentine’s Day angel before her. “You look festive.” She draws out her words, slow and questioning. 

Laena scoffs. “Please! You must know Daemon put me up to this!” 

Rhaenyra steps aside so her friend can come in. She can’t help letting her eyes roam over Laena once again. The look feels like something borrowed from a Britney Spears music video circa the Baby One More Time era but somehow it really suits Laena. “Put you up to what exactly?”

Laena heads for the living room, not bothering to wait for Rhaenyra’s direction. She plops down on the couch and leans her head against the cushioned back. “To be your personal cupid and help you get started on your quest.” She says in monotone before unlocking her phone and scrolling absentmindedly, seemingly unconcerned by Rhaenyra’s confused gaze. “You’re lucky I didn’t have plans till dinner by the way.” 

Rhaenyra lets her shoulders drop. “What quest?!”

Laena rolls her eyes and drops her phone in her lap. “I thought Daemon explained it in the first heart or whatever?” 

Rhaenyra looks down at the paper heart, reading the words for a third time. 

Laena waves a hand at the thin tank top and plush sleep shorts hanging off Rhaenyra’s body. “Sooooo are you gonna wear that?” She raises one eyebrow accusingly. “All I’m saying is… it’s a choice.” 

“What kind of quest is this?” Rhaenyra asks, tilting her head slightly. 

Laena shrugs and picks up her phone again, tapping away with a glittering short pink manicure. “Well it’s Daemon so, I’d suggest being prepared for whatever chaos that man’s brain is capable of cooking up.” 

“Right.” Rhaenyra agrees. “Comfortable shoes then!” She looks down at Laena’s shiny red pumps. 

Her friend shakes her car keys in response. “Don’t worry! I’m driving.” 

A rush of excitement takes over Rhaenyra as she climbs the stairs back to her bedroom to get dressed. She picks out a pair of well-loved jeans and a vintage burgundy leather jacket. Daemon has sent her on an adventure. She has to be ready for anything! 

She quickly brushes her teeth and runs a comb through her short silver hair. She doubts she has time for anything more glamorous. With a quick nod to the mirror, she gathers her confidence and heads back down stairs ready to discover what Daemon has waiting for her. 

*** 

“Ta - Da!” Laena holds out her arms to showcase the weatherworn park bench, empty as it sits on the border of the busy beach. There, taped to a paint-peeled wooden slat, is a single pink paper heart, identical to the one Rhaenyra found in bed this morning. She grabs it with quick fingers, eager for the next clue.

Soft sand, rolling waves, and the sun above

May I ask you to trace the steps of our love?

This next clue may give you trouble,

But the prize in the end is sure to be double.

Rhaenyra bites her bottom lip, her mind already puzzling out what this new poem could mean. 

Laena looks over her shoulder, her loose curls tickling at the bare skin of Rhaenyra’s cheek. “Man that is cheesy. Daemon might be losing his edge now that you’re all married and deliriously happy or whatever.”

Rhaenyra clicks her tongue and pulls the heart closer to face, hiding her husband’s endearing message. There’s a part of her that feels annoyed with Laena’s assessment. Sure it’s a little corny, but it’s also a lot adorable. Also Daemon wrote these lines just for her. 

“It must be a place that means something to us.” She’s sure of it. 

“Like where you had your first date?” Laena suggests.

Rhaenyra looks around at the joggers leaving their footprints in the wet sand, kissed by the ocean waves. “Actually, that was here.” She turns back to the clue again, reading it aloud this time. “Trouble… double…”

“Shouldn’t it be double trouble?” Laena asks before going completely still. 

Rhaenyra’s head whips around to face her friend and she can see they both figure it out at the exact same time. Their voices overlap as they excitedly call out: “Double Treble!” 

***

The neon-lit karaoke bar is nearly empty when Rhaenyra and Laena walk in. The bartender leans against the sink behind the bar as he attempts to flirt with a bored-looking waitress. While a middle aged man in a Hawaiian shirt belts out a messy version of some country song on the main stage. A young couple in the audience watches him, occasionally wincing at the strangled high notes. 

No one seems to notice as Rhaenyra and Laena step into the main room and take a seat at one of the small round tables close to the stage.

“Oh that is painful.” Laena says, her eyes fixed on the man squeaking in his country twang.

Rhaenyra hates to agree, but the song feels like an assault to her ears and she’s grateful when it’s over and silence descends on them. She claps dutifully though as the man bows and heads for the steps leading off stage.

“Maybe we should show him how it’s done.” Laena says as she claps but Rhaenyra’s attention is caught by a flash of pink near the man’s sneakers as he exits the stage. 

She rises to go investigate but as she does, another man takes the microphone. He clears his throat to get the room’s attention and that’s when Rhaenyra realizes this is no tourist. The man on stage now is Jasper Wylde, Daemon’s cranky agent. Rhaenyra freezes in place. 

“And now a special request for a very special audience member.” Jasper says, looking straight at her. 

The couple seated a few tables away glance at each other, their faces twisted in confusion. They turn in Rhaenyra and Laena’s direction just as Jasper continues. “This one goes out to Mrs.Targaryen, from your darling husband!” The couple’s eyes grow wide with recognition and instinctively Rhaenyra looks away. Her eyes dart back to the stairs by the stage, where she suspects a small paper heart awaits her.  

“I’m only doing this because you two are going to make me very rich when that movie comes out.” Jasper adds as the opening notes to Rocket Man blare from the speakers on stage. 

Rhaenyra’s eyes widen but Laena seems delighted, clapping her hands and grinning like a child at a birthday party. 

“It’s the remix!” Laena laughs out clearly referring to Rhaenyra’s duet with Daemon, the one they sang together in this very room, back when their relationship was still fresh and new. 

She raises an eyebrow as Jasper wiggles his body in strangely flexible ways. “The opposite! It’s the original.” She says bending so Laena can hear her. 

But Laena shakes her head, disagreeing. “The song maybe, not the performance. Although this has its own appeal, like those reality shows about people who cut coupons so they can hoard hundreds of bottles of laundry detergent. Yeah… I get that now.” 

“Right.” Rhaenyra says as she straightens her back. She doesn’t get it at all actually but that’s okay, she’s far more interested in what the next clue has to say. Rushing to the stairs she finds a paper heart folded neatly on the edge of the second step from the top. She plucks it with zealous fingers and unfolds it to find another poem, once again a series of two couplets.

Roses, lilies, flowers in bloom

Sorry we had to leave the room

Although I prefer when it’s just the two of us,

Everyone else makes such a fuss

She’s so consumed with reading the poem aloud, letting each word linger on her tongue, parsing out which one points in the direction of the next heart, that she doesn’t notice when the song ends until Jasper is stomping down the stairs. He looks winded, taking shallow breaths as he rubs the back of his head. 

“Tell Daemon he owes me.” The man says as he passes her by, heading for the door. Rhaenyra watches him go, her attention switching to Laena as her friend strides towards her.

“So, where are we off to next?” Laena asks. 

Rhaenyra smiles. She’s just figured it out. 

***

Laenor is waiting for them as Laena pulls her shiny new aquamarie convertible into High Garden’s parking lot. 

“You’re in on this too?” Rhaenyra laughs out as she rushes to pull her best friend into a hug.  

“I’m officially relieving you of cupid duty, Laena!” He calls out over Rhaenyra’s shoulder as he holds her tight. 

“Well finally!” Laena says, but Rhaenyra can see the trace of disappointment in her eyes.

“You were getting into it, Detective Laena.” She teases as she untangles herself from Laenor’s arms. 

“Oh please! Enjoy your games! I have better things to do.” She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses higher on her nose and dramatically spins in the direction of her car as Rhaenyra and Laenor wave their goodbyes.

“Did Daemon ask you to come here?” She’s painfully aware she is being chauffeured around. She doesn’t drive. There was a time in her life when she wasn’t able to. Not because she wasn’t willing to learn but because she was too consumed by her own demons to make learning in any way safe. But that was before she was sober. 

Laenor, being Rhaenyra’s oldest friend, knows all about those days. He knows about the transition days too, the time when she called him and asked for help, the months in rehab after. And he has been there for her during recovery too. The group meetings that make her feel especially strong or the bad days when she needs his reassurance. He knew her at every stage. He watched her grow into the woman she is now. And that’s why when it’s just the two of them and Laenor quietly leans over to tell her that he’s proud of her, she knows that he means it.  

Now Laenor stands in front of her and pulls a pink heart from his back pocket, a pink heart from the man Laenor got to watch her fall in love with. “Yup!” He says, handing the paper over to her. “He also told me to give you this.” 

“Did you read it?” She asks. 

“I was tempted. Especially since I’ve just been standing here alone for an hour! But no, it didn’t seem fair. You should read it first. But if you need help figuring it out…” His voice trails off as he playfully bumps her arm with his elbow. 

“Two heads are better than one!” She says looking down at the latest clue. 

The stage was yours first before it was mine

But becomes something sacred when we combine

Memories of long days rehearsing the play that brought them together flood back to her. She doesn’t need to think too much about this one. 

“Oh you’ll get this right away!” She says, tilting the heart so Laenor can read it. Her pulse quickens as recognition spreads across her friend’s handsome face.

With a knowing lilt to his voice, Laenor asks: “Where’s our next stop, Nyra?”

***

They walk up to the Flea Bottom to find a paper heart stuck to the locked front door. Rhaenyra snags it quickly, wondering how long ago Daemon left it for her. 

“I miss this place!” Laenor says from behind her. She turns to find him looking up at the marquee that once announced their play, Love Grows Here . Now the plastic letter tiles only spell out “FOR RENT.” 

She moves to stand next to Laenor and feels a sudden wave of sadness wash over them both. “It doesn’t feel right.” Laenor says. 

She nods. “There was so much life here…” She trails off. It hurts to think those days are in the past. The time that gave her and Laenor a project to work on together. The daily practice sessions that made Laena one of her closest friends. And of course, the words of the play that made her fall in love with Daemon. 

She sniffles and reaches up to brush away tears she didn’t realize had begun to fill her eyes.

Laenor wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. “Don’t cry. I’m sure one day we’ll all be back here, working on another play together.”

“You think?” Rhaenyra asks, hopeful. 

“I mean it’s a small venue for such big stars.” He laughs. “But I could see it. Maybe this time with you directing….” 

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes. “Daemon put you up to that too?”

Laenor shakes his head. “Nope. That’s from me. I saw it from the start.” 

She wraps an arm around her friend's waist pulling him tight against her. And uses her thumb to press open the little pink heart in her hand. “Let’s do this one together.” She says before reading the little couplet out loud to Laenor. 

“The history of us once began, amongst the artifacts of which you were such a fan. I’ll take it one step further, to offer the sunset to my favorite observer.” 

“Ah!” Laenor says. “Isn’t he clever!” 

Yes, Rhaenyra thinks. This must be the last clue, the one that will bring her back to the beginning. “But he says sunset… I think that gives us a few hours, doesn’t it?” 

“At least two…” Laenor agrees, a smirk on his lips. “How should we spend the afternoon?” 

“Sure Joffrey won’t miss you if I steal you for a little bit?” Rhaenyra teases as she steps away. “It is Valentine’s Day.”

“I think Joffrey knows he’ll always have to share me with you!” Laenor’s eyebrows knit slightly. “And Laena!” Laenor digs his keys out of his pocket and follows Rhaenyra to his car.” You know she called me the other night at three in the morning? What is that? I’m in my thirties now, I like being in bed by ten okay? My club days are done and gone!” 

Rhaenyra chuckles as she slides into the passenger seat. Her club days are done and gone too. And now what she has is so much better.

***

They arrive at The History of Cinema Museum full after a late lunch at a Thai restaurant Laenor had only recently discovered. Although it’s early evening now, the museum is still bustling with visitors. They walk past a tour guide loudly touting the virtues of animation to an awed looking tourist crowd and film students comparing notes scribbled on tablets. 

A giddy feeling washes over Rhaenyra as she looks up at giant black and white photographs of the movie stars she watched as a little girl, their plastered-on smiles familiar in more ways than one. Laenor points out a display of a handwritten draft of the 1923 film, The Fever of Barrowton , and Rhaenyra can’t help stepping so close that her nose brushes the glass. Her eyes sweep over the cursive script, the lines of dialogue ringing out in the actor’s voices in her mind. 

“Amazing!” She whispers. 

“Do you think, a hundred years from now, some aspiring screenwriter will be wearing that face,” Laenor circles a finger in front of her, bringing a blush to her cheeks. “As they stare at one of Daemon’s beat up notebooks?” 

Rhaenyra can certainly picture it. There’s no doubt in her mind that her husband could end up in these very halls idolized beside the image of his actress mother, Alyssa Targaryen. Perhaps one day Rhaenyra will be recognized too, as an actress… or maybe for more. 

“Let’s see if we can sneak onto the roof.” She says, shaking off questions better saved for the future. 

Despite slipping into stealth mode as they creep into the stairwell, they find the door to the roof suspiciously unlocked. 

“Anything for a Targaryen.” Laenor quips as he pushes the door open. “Ladies first!” 

Rhaenyra steps out into the chill of dusk and is immediately taken by the warm amber of the LA sunset. The round orange sun dips beneath a swirl of fluffy clouds, lighting them up with the pale glow of the fading afternoon. 

“Beautiful.” She says softly as she steps into the center of the roof. 

Laenor hums in agreement but hangs back by the door, giving her room to enjoy the special gift Daemon has set up just for her. 

She steps forward, closer to the edge of the roof. She sat here with Daemon a few years ago, on the night they met. It was here she first saw the parts of him that seemed to live within her too. The hurt, the longing, the desperation for something more in life. The things that needed healing. They had different paths in life, different stories to tell, but it all led to the same place. She knows now that they were always meant to find each other.

Rhaenyra finds a heart tucked into the corner where she once shared herself with a man who was entirely a stranger, a man she had no idea she would learn to love. She isn’t surprised this is the spot Daemon chose for her final clue. This is after all where the journey really started. And she already knows exactly where this heart will lead her. 

She picks it up carefully and presses it against her chest for a moment, letting her memories with him flow through her mind as she takes in the sunset. It’s only when the sun dips below the horizon line that she unfolds the last paper heart.

Come home to me, Rhaenyra

Daemon glances down at the spinning gold arrow marking the seconds on the Balmain Chronograph strapped to his wrist. If all has gone according to plan, and Laenor and Laena have played their parts in a timely manner, Rhaenyra should be home any minute now. 

A whiny growl draws Daemon’s attention to the shaggy yellow-blonde mutt laying across his lap. A “shelter-special” they called her when Daemon went to pick her up this afternoon. Although he’s fairly certain that’s just a very LA way of saying mutt. Wide brown eyes stare up at him begging for pets so he rubs his hand gently over the unnamed puppy’s soft belly. 

“Don’t worry, your mommy will be home soon.” 

As if summoned, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes across the room, announcing Rhaenyra’s arrival. Their new puppy is quick to investigate, leaping from Daemon’s lap and bounding towards the front door with a wagging tail. 

Daemon follows dutifully, but stops just before the hall, peeking out behind the wall in time to see Rhaenyra’s eyes light up as the little puppy circles her and brushes against her long legs.

“And who are you?” She asks as she bends down, her voice high-pitched and extra sweet.

Daemon clicks his tongue with pretend sheepishness as he saunters into the hall. “Well that’s the thing…”

Rhaenyra’s head snaps up at his approach, her eyes wide and sparkling with love as they settle on him. 

“...She doesn’t have a name yet.” 

Rhaenyra gasps. “No name? Well that won’t do.” 

He steps closer, crouching down to run one hand along their puppy’s yellow fur. He slides it down the dog’s back till his fingers reach Rhaenyra’s own hands, currently scratching gently at the puppy’s neck. He feels the heat of her skin on his own as his touch connects.

The restless puppy breaks away, running back down the hall in search of more mischief. Daemon watches for a minute before turning back to his wife, raising their joined hands to his lips so he can place a soft kiss to her fingers.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.” She replies, a wide smile spreading across her face. 

They stand and he pulls her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her back. “And how was your day, my love?” 

Rhaenyra’s hands glide across his chest, moving upwards so she can wrap them around his neck. He leans into the touch, ducking his head so he can press his forehead against her own. The matching violet of their eyes meet as Rhaenyra hums in thought. 

“You know I woke up today expecting to lay in bed with my husband…”

“Oh yeah?” He teases. “That sounds nice.”

“It would have been but can you believe I went on something of an adventure instead.” She giggles and her breath tickles his lips. 

“An adventure? How unexpected! Tell me did you find any treasure at the end.” 

Right on cue, their new puppy returns and wiggles between them, feeling left out of the impromptu hallway love fest. 

“Oh!” Rhaenyra drops her hands and steps back slightly, making room for the furball at her feet. “I think I did.” She pauses and he can see the wheels turning in her mind. “No name huh?”

Daemon shrugs innocently. “I thought that was best left to her mother.”

Rhaenyra laughs. “And that’s me?!”

“The dog and me.” Daemon says as he crouches down again, looking back up at his wife, knowing what they have had to give up to be together. “Your cute little family. Should you choose to take us in.” Rhaenyra clicks her tongue shaking her head at his teasing but he persists. “Feel free to leave us by the side of the road. Maybe in a box marked ‘free’.” 

“Oh please…” She says, bending down to look him in the eyes. “Like I would trade you for anything.” She tilts her head, pensive as she looks over their new fluffy companion. “Hmm… What about… Syrax!”

Daemon wracks his brain for what the name could mean. “Syrax?”

“Don’t you remember?! That Reina Visenya movie we watched on our Honeymoon, her character’s name was Syrax, the goddess of love! What better name for a Valentine’s baby?!” 

Daemon’s lips curl into a smirk. “Mmm I think I was a little distracted that night!“

“Oh please” She cuts in.

“—By my new wife’s gorgeous long legs wrapped around…”

“Yes, yes!” She waves him off and pulls Syrax into her arms. “Your father is such a silly man. Let's go see if he remembered to buy you some treats.” She heads towards the kitchen but just before she reaches the end of the hall she looks back. “Aren’t you coming?” She asks. 

Yes, Daemon would follow her anywhere. 

*** 

Late into the night, after Daemon has cooked them a romantic dinner and they have taken Syrax for a walk, they lay together, curled up in the bed they share with their skin still burning from the heat of their lovemaking, Rhaenyra whispers: “This is all I have ever wanted.” 

Daemon reaches over and brushes his fingertips against the short silver strands that have fallen across her forehead, pushing them aside to reveal the soft skin underneath. 

“What is?” He asks. 

Her eyes search his face for a moment, trailing over his features with familiar inspection. 

“A family.” She says. “You… and a dog.” She laughs but her eyes betray how serious she truly is. She reaches out and brushes a thumb against his bottom lip. 

“You have me, forever.” He says, his voice soft against her touch. 

“I know. That’s why it means so much more.” Her hand falls from his lips to rest against his bare chest. He knows she feels the beat of his heart there, its rhythm quickening at her touch. “Paper hearts are nice… but this heart here, this is the one that I treasure the most.” 

He slips his arm under hers so he can mirror the gesture. Her heart beats under his chest, a thump-thump that reminds him this is real, not just some fairy tale he wrote in a notebook.

“This is home.” He tells her, moving closer so he can tuck Rhaenyra’s head under his chin. “For me and for you. This will always be home.”

She sniffles and he can feel her tears against his skin. He slides his hand around the curve of her waist and presses her closer. She holds him too, with arms that feel safe and secure. He melts into her touch as she says. “ You are my home.” 

Because that’s all he’s ever needed.