Rhaenyra and Daemon

The Dance of the Dragons had finally come to an end. Rhaenyra Targaryen sat upon the infamous Iron Throne, her enemies forced to heel. She had achieved everything she had fought so hard for, everything was perfect…..except it wasn’t.

The Dance had taken her children from her. Her precious sons, ripped away from her too soon because of a war she was pushed into fighting. She had no heir. The council had immediately found this a problem, they’re insisting words pecking at her every day. Daemon had managed to silence them, for now, but it wouldn’t take long for them to start up again. A queen without an heir was a risk.

Rhaenyra’s past births had been hell, long and torturous. She wouldn’t be able to face those challenges while ruling over the Seven Kingdoms.

She needed someone else to bear her heirs. A maiden, preferably. A young women.

Rhaenyra stood in front of a line of women, her gaze scrutinizing. Daemon, her husband, lingered behind her, his hands resting on the hilt of his sword. He also seemed to be studying each person, unclear what part of them he was judging.

Too old. Bad genes. Too lowborn. Rhaenyra named off the flaws of the women standing in front of her in her head, slowly but surely crossing them all off her list. That was until her eyes reached the last woman in line. You.

You stood tall, bowing your head in respect in response to her lingering look. You were young, beautiful, and from a respectable family. She had just found the perfect solution to her problem.

Daemon and Rhaenyra shared a look of agreement, Daemons lips curling up into a noticeable smirk. You were the one they wanted.

“The rest of you are dismissed.” Daemon spoke, his tone demanding immediate action. The women filed out of the room like a flock of sheep, grumbling as they left. The room was left in a searing silence, the queen still standing in front of you.