Notes: This chapter covers about one and a half years of Daemon's life in Runestone. At the end, he receives an interesting over.
Daemon Targaryen (107 A.C. Frist Moon)
Runestone – A week after Daemon's arrival.
He hated all of it. Every part of Runestone wasn't to his taste. His wife had been, as had remembered. An annoying woman was forced upon him. But he had built his strength and, one day, reclaimed what was rightfully his. Not that of his younger half-breed brother, and now he would sire half-breeds as well. A thought irked him, but if he wanted Runestone under his control, he needed an heir by his wife.
Why couldn't he have been betrothed to Laena, or his niece, for that matter? No, he was to be shipped to Vale. Then, his child with Mysaria died at the sea, and he blamed both his brothers for the child's death.
He drank deep from the arbor gold, and the drink burned his throat, and he stood up. He was going to do what he munched and sire the heir he needed to rise again. If everything went alright, he had an heir until he could sire a true heir on a Valyrian. If everything went even better, his wife would died in childbirth. That thought made him hard, so he supposed it could all work.
(Warning Non-consensual).
He opened the door of the bronze bitch chambers. "Ah, dear wife, how perfect you are already in a sleep garment; it will save us some time." With a smile, he sat down on a chair in the room and removed his boots. "What do you think you are doing here" She scowled. "Do something we both loath to do." He said as he removed his vest and upper garment. "What!"
"What you think I jested when we last spoke? I need an heir." He snarled as he removed his shirt. Leaving him bare up to his chest. It was still hard to think of her death. He smirked.
"Hmm, at least you're hard husband. Last time, you couldn't get it up." His bronze bitch said with a smirk. He stood up in anger and walked toward. "I loath you." As he pushed her to the wall. "I loath my brothers for having to sire an heir on you." He growled in anger as he held her wrist. He moved his hand to her waist, grabbing it tightly.
"A prince, in name only, the rest of you, is just as low as a common beggar. A pity your younger brother was born first. He seems like a fine young man." She snarled in the face.
"You bitch," He said as he pushed her toward the bed. Pushing her on her belly. "Stop, not like this." She cried out. "Well, I stop the moment seed has taken root in this hostile environment." He growled in her ear as he held his wife down.
"Duty, my brother calls it. Just think I'm him. I shall imagine someone else as well." He spat toward her, undid his trousers, and lifted her sleeping garment. "Daemon stop this, I'm not a whore, to be taken like one." She growled, but he didn't listen anymore.
He just thought of taking his niece instead. Breaking her maidenhead, however, he wondered if that was still around with all the riding his Bronze Bitch did. He spits on his cock, and aligns himself with the bitch cunt. He had said this to her she had a fine round ass.
He growled as push his cock inside, a tight hole and all, as he pushed through his wife's maidenhead. "Ahh," he heard his wife hiss out. She didn't move after that as he took her like a bitch. She was, after all, his bronze bitch. After closing his eyes, he imagined Rhaenyra with Silver-gold hair and purple eyes. He grunted at the thought and, after some time. He didn't know how, but he was able to spill his seed in his bronze bitch cunt. He pulled out of her cunt, and his seed spilled out. With some blood, well, at least she was a maiden. He thought as he looked at his bitch cunt.
He put on his clothes and left his wife's chambers. Not a word was uttered between them.
Two moons later (107 A.C., Fourth moon)
He slashed down at his opponent with dark sister. Crashing through his defenses and pointing the blade at the man's throat. "Yield?" He questioned Borik. "I, yield my prince." He helped the man up.
"You're more fierce than ever, my prince," Borik said after the man stood up again. He had to, the nights spent with his bitch, didn't cause relief. As did at brothels or with Mysaria. Instead, it irritated him, at least at the beginning, and his frustration was at being stuck at Runestone doing nothing didn't help. His own fort was being built, but not much had been done, and it would take time before he would be able to leave this place.
His wife had been difficult, but he was able to spill his seed in her. After a week of his bitch struggles and cursing, she had stopped it. Just lining up for him so he could do the deed, resigning to her fate, as he had. To sire an heir for the both of them, a Targaryen and a Royce heir. He found some relief in his bitch cunt, but everything else he spit on.
"My Prince, your wife has received a message from Kingslanding. She requests your presence in her solar." He grunted, gave the man a nod, and placed dark sister back in its sheath.
He entered the room. "Dear wife, how are you?" He said with a smile that he didn't mean a word when he spoke to her. "Oh, quit, you bastard. We both know you, and I don't care how the other person is doing. This arrangement has been quite unpleasant for both of us." His bronze bitch snarled through gritted teeth.
"Well, my bitch your cunt has been quite accommodating. Better than I expected." He said with a smirk. To be honest, it helped his wife's had a fine cunt, and ass.
"Ugh, you disgust me. But reminiscing about our pleasing time together is not why I summoned you." She growled out. "You did not summon me," He retorted.
"Well, I called you came. What else could be?" She said with a smirk. He grunted at her and waved her away.
"Good with bullshit out of the way, a raven to start. Your brother Aemon is getting married in moon time. Seven days of feast and tourney." Well, he said that his brother would marry Laena.
"So Seahorse finally joined with the dragon again." He said, but Rhea had a grin on her face that he could not place. "As is your niece, our King has passed a new law. The heir and the King are now allowed to take two wives." "What!!" He shouted as he jumped out of his chair in a rage.
"Ah, a rise out of you. It seems your brother now has you wanted with your whore. What is her name again, Missy? Or something like that." His bitch said he wanted to strike her for that, and he did. "Well, here we are, the great Daemon Targaryen, The Rogue Princess, hitting his wife. For speaking the truth, you are indeed a great man." She said mockingly, spitting out the blood from her mouth. He raged at that.
"As for the King has chosen a new wife to wed as well. He is to marry the lady Alicent Hightower." She said with a scoff. "He what! What is happening at that crushed place? Have they gone mad? My brother married to two fricking wives, and my brother to marry the Hightower whore." He slammed his fist on the desk, sending stuff flying off it.
His bitch chuckled, making him groan in annoyance. "There will also be war. Your brother Aemon is leading an expedition into the Stepstones. He set sail two or three moons after his wedding." Well, his younger brother would, begone. Perhaps even died, and with him gone, no one else could interrupt his plans. He doubted they would send the woman to war if trouble arose in the land.
Damn, why had his brother decided to join his blood with those Hightowers? He loathed to be admitted, but why didn't he marry Visenya? She at least had some dragon blood. The Hightower was a full-blooded Andal cunts. His bronze bitch had at least, a strong first-men descent.
"Well, it seems both my brothers are making stupid plans. I suppose soon enough, I will receive good news from them, and of you, wife, let's hope you aren't barren." He snarled out as he closed the door behind him with a resounding smack, he seethed with rage, his mind consumed by thoughts of vengeance and retribution. He longed to take to the skies, escape the suffocating confines of Runestone, and reclaim the destiny stolen from him. But for now, he was trapped, a prisoner of circumstance, his fury burning like a beacon in the darkness.
Two moons later
"Your Highness," Master Derico Vopantis began, "the Rogue Fort—still awaiting a final name decision—is progressing admirably. Most of the foundations are laid, and work on the tunnel leading to the dragon caves is well underway. The only challenge remaining is the budget, as labor is abundant with your men working diligently."
"I have plans for it. How long will my inheritance sustain us?" He inquired.
"Perhaps for four moons, depending on whether you opt for wooden or stone walls. Wood is plentiful in the Vale, as is stone, though the latter requires skilled stonemasons its main difficulty. The pine trees here are ideal for palisades," Derico explained.
He grunted in acknowledgment, considering his options. "What if we construct an earthen wall reinforced with rows of wooden walls and a mortar mix made from the gravel waste of the Dragon Caves?"
"That could work, Your Highness. A blend of both materials would significantly bolster the walls' strength," Derico agreed. "Very well, see to it," he commanded, and Derico hastened away to oversee the task.
Surveying the camp below, once inhabited by his former Gold Cloaks but now dubbed the Golden Dragons, he noted its transformation into a burgeoning settlement. Trade flourished, providing goods for the men, some of whom had begun to form families with Vale natives or had sent for their existing families from King's Landing. It reminded him of Aegon's beginnings in Kingslanding.
As he watched, Borik approached, bearing a missive from his wife. "My Prince, there is a message from Lady Rhea," Borik said, slightly winded from the ascent. Accepting the scroll, he read the contents.
Prince Dick,
I am pleased to inform you that our marriage duties have been successful. I'm with child, a moon or so, and by the maester. 'He 'had to watch them, he wasn't sure if Aemon's letter was bullshit. Perhaps the maesters might kill his heir. He would put a servant in pay sone enough, as he with many of his wife servants.' He thought As read the words of bitch letters.
I suppose the King will be happy. I suppose you shall send him a letter soon. He is your brother, after all.
Your Wife, Princess Rhea Royce, Lady of Runestone.
Bitch calling herself a princess, although she was being married to him. "Well, it seems my Bronze Bitch has finally conceived a child. It will no be even more difficult for the lords so the Vale to rote us out." He said with a smirk. "Congratulations, my Prince." "Well, still be mixed-blooded, but let's hope the Bronze Bitch births me a son." He said as he looked back at the foundations of the Rogue Fort.
Seven moons later - (107 A.C. Eleventh moon)
He sat outside the room of his chambers, where his wife labored. The wails and groans echoed through the corridor as she birthed his heir, hopefully. 'He couldn't bear the thought of the drama that came with having a girl. Another babe needed to after this again, as they both needed an heir. Fucking a child in her three times felt.' He shuddered at the thought of bedding his wife more times than he needed. She also needed an heir to inherit Runestone, as was damn to make this jerry place his future seat for his bloodline.
He wasn't quite sure how he endured the wait until Maester Dunbar emerged, bringing the scent of blood with him. "Congratulations, my prince. You have twin boys, both healthy," the maester announced.
Twin boys? The notion felt alien. "Twins? Well, that's... good. Let me see them," he mumbled, rising to his feet and following the maester back into the chamber.
"Ah, my lovely husband graces us with his presence," his wife, the Bronze Bitch, remarked weakly, her tone mocking. "You have your heir, and I have mine."
He glanced at both newborns, one with the silver-gold hair of his house, the other with dark brown locks resembling Rhae's. "Seems we have both our heirs," he said smugly.
"I suspect you want the eldest to be your heir," she remarked, a smile playing on her lips as she gestured towards the dark-haired boy. His irritation flickered momentarily.
"Well, I suspected as much. But don't worry, you can have the silver one as your heir. As long as you write your will, Yobart will carry my name. Yobart Royce is your firstborn, for all to know. And whatever you decide to name my silver-haired son, he will be placed in my care if you pass. You will also have no say in Yobart's upbringing," she declared.
He nodded reluctantly, agreeing to her terms, and instructed the maester to document them.
"His name will be Baelon Targaryen," he stated, his gaze lingering on the boy. Conflicted emotions churned within him. He had his looks, but still, he had the blood of his bronze bitch inside him. He had his heir now and thought he would become King one day. Just like him, or at least his blood, he vowed as he took the boy in his arms.
"I shall write to my brother to inform him of the children and request dragon eggs. It's their bright right, even if they are half Valyrians." He said as he placed the babe back in The Bronze Bitch arms.
"Yes, as is Runestone." She said as he walked out of the room.
(108 A.C. sixth moon) (The same time a moon after the fall of Little Tyrosh).
He sat beside his bitch as a Pentoshi envoy arrived. "What do they want? They aren't part of the Triach." His Bronze Bitch said. "I don't know. My little brother has taken Little Tyrosh. I doubt many of the Free Cities are that happy with his actions. I know for sure Otto isn't." He said the last part he chuckled, leaving his bitch to sigh.
"Evoy, Lymaco Fenfaris, magister of Pentos." A Royce household announced. The Pentoshi was old, greying, and fat, but the man was dressed well. He wore rich silks of blue, and green and two golden rings on his fingers.
"Your Grace, my lady, is an honor to meet you. It's wonders to arrive at the ancient seat of Runestone." They spoke in accented common tongue. "It's an honor to have an envoy, hear at Runestone. Magister Lymaco was it?" He said as the man finished his ass slicking.
"Yes, Your Grace, I come on, behave the City of Pentos. To request the protection of the famous warrior Daemon Targaryen and rider of Caraxes the Blood Worm. The Triach has been a true torn in our great city, and your brother, sacking of Little Tyrosh, has let Tyrosh withdraw their support for the war. They have now let loose their ships, on our ships, and raids along the border with Myr also have steadily increased." He knew then what the man wanted. "What do want, Magister. As you well know, Westeros wouldn't support any armed attack on the Essoshi mainland." He said toward the man.
"I humbly ask for you, Prince Daemon. Come and join our forces to protect Pentos and its land. We are also more than willing to grant you one of our many mansions along our coast and its surrounding lands and incomes for your own use." A mansion that was all, but Magister wasn't done. "As well as heavy summon of 100.000 gold dragons, pay you yearly. I already have 50.000 gold dragons with me as payment to be made as trust between partners." There were gaps in the hall; it was a som, and he needed gold, other incomes, and 50.000 gold dragons. Would allow him to continue his plans in the Vale.
"I a generous offer, Magister. I am more than willing to entertain it." He said with a smile. "I hoped, appreciated ours over Your Grace. I am more sure you would emulate your exalted forbear Aegon the Conqueror, who joined our cause against Volantis now. I hope we can now join together against the Tyrosh." The man said with a bow. "To Aegon." He said, and the rest of the hall ego him.
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