Dorne - Blog Posts

Valyrian Demigods of Westeros - Daughter of Vermax

Lady Laena Velaryon held Princess Rhaenyra's hand as she screamed, stuck in the birthing bed for the 5th time. Her brother, Ser Laenor, stood on the other side of his wife, wincing at the hold she had upon his arm but supportive and encouraging. Very few men chose to join their wives in the birthing rooms, declaring it against propriety but Laenor cared deeply for Rhaenyra and would not see her endure this pain alone.

With a final scream, the midwife was able to remove the babe, using a knife to cut the life chord from her body. Wailing, the woman happily announced, "A girl, your highness. Healthy and joyous to be here."

Rhaenyra laughed, as the babe's wails softened. "Clean my daughter first, then I shall hold her."

"Right away, your highness."

The midwife rushed towards the small bath that had already been prepared and began cleaning the babe of fluid and blood, gently cooing to soothe her.

"Do you have a name for her, dear sister?" Laena asked, taking a rag to gently wipe away the sweat upon her brow.

"We do. She shall be Princess Visenya, Second of Her Name." Laenor could not help the cheeky grin that appeared, quickly catching his twins attention.

"What did you do this time?"

Switching to High Valyrian, Laenor explained, "We contacted Doran Martell to talk of uniting Dorne and Westeros. We spent moons conversing through letters and creating a contract for Dorne that would allow them to keep the independence they so desire without being allowed to rise against us. Their are conditions, for both of us, and ours happens to be that our next daughter shall marry their 3 year old son, Prince Trystan Martell, when she comes of age."

"If she wishes to. I will not allow my daughter to be forced into a marriage she despises," Rhaenyra added, wincing and gasping as the afterbirth began.

Luckily, the afterbirth was quickly epxpelled and the healers were able to tend to her. Laenor was forced into the sitting room so they could see if Rhaenyra needed stitches or just the ointment. Visenya was quite small and had slipped out in the height of day after barely a few hours of pushing.

The ointment the used would help her heal and prevent infection, a common disease women caught after giving birth. A cold wetcloth was brought to Rhaenyra to help with the pain from her womb, much to her relief.

"I wish to see my Visenya. And my husband," She added as an afterthought, making Laena snort.

"So dear sister, tell me, did you invite Dorne here for your birth? I heard rumors that a delegation arrived late last night but I was far more worried about you to question it."

"They did come. We plan to announce the contract as well as the betrothal in a few days time. I offered to allow them the chance to meet Visenya first in a more familiar setting, so that Prince Trystan may meet his future wife."

Visenya was gently placed into Princess Rhaenyra's arms as Laenor was let back inside. He smiled down at the adorable babe in her arms, reaching out to run a finger over her little chubby cheek.

She had thick curly silver-white hair, inherited from her father with the same dark skin. Her eyes though were the most beautiful shades of green either of them had seen, stunning all three of them.

"Didn't your grandmother, Princess Alyssa have a green eye?" Laena asked, leaning closer to the babe who cooed.

"She did," Rhaenyra agreed, smiling down at Visenya who reached up to smack at Laenors hand. "Did you pick out an egg for her? Or are we allowing her to claim one as her siblings did?"

"I thought it would be best to give her an egg due to her betrothal to Prince Trystan Martell," Laenor admitted. "I picked one from Dreamfyre's latest clutch."

"Good."

The door opened and a maid stepped inside dipping into a shallow bow. Laena scowled at the disrespect.

"You are in the presence of the future Queen, the Crown Princess, the future King, the Prince, and a Lady of a Royal House, wife of a Prince. You will show us the respect we command," Laena snapped, blue-purple eyes sharp as seaglass. The maid flinched back and dipped into a far deeper curtsy.

"I-I have a message. From the Queen," The maid stated, voice trembling, though none could tell if it was from fear or fury.

"Queen Consort," Rhaenyra corrected. "Queen Consort Alicent is not a Targaryen and as such is not gifted the title of Queen as my mother was."

"What is the message?" Laenor asked, frowning.

"She wishes for the babe to be brought to her before the ceremony so she may greet them. The Queen Consort was upset that she has not been granted the priveledge of meeting her grandchildren before they were introduced to the Realm."

Rhaenyra, Laena, and Laenor had all gone still before the Red Keep shook beneath the fury Vhagar voiced, making the maid flinch.

"Laena," Rhaenyra stated, staring down the maid. She switched to High Valyrian. "Find my uncle and the delegation from Sunspear, bring them to the Queens Apartments. Let them see how the Future Queen is treated."

"Your uncle is with the King, Rhaenyra. Hopefully he will see the kind of woman his chosen consort is. Green as her dresses," Laenor stated, grinning sharply at the woman. "Our mother and father would be most upset to hear what their gooddaughter is going through as well."

"Yes, they will." In a swirl of skirts, Laena dissappeared.

"Get out," Laenor ordered. "We shall bring our child to the Queen Consort ourselves."

"I could take the babe, ser."

"If you lay a hand on my child, I will order them to be removed," Rhaenyra snarled. "Tell your Queen Consort that I will come myself for what kind of mother would I be if I passed my child onto another."

The maid gaped at the blatant insult but scurried away as Ser Harwin, who had entered when Lady Laena had left, reached for his blade. He left behind her, closing the door as the servents, maids, midwives, and healers stared at the door in shock.

"Your highness," A midwife, Laya, began, "It is too soon after the birth. You could hurt yourself from walking."

"The Queen Consort has ordered my presence. Dress me. Please." Her maids immediatley rushed forward, pulling on one of her silk hose and pulled her hair into a simple, messy braid that fell down her back. A soft robe was then pulled over her shoulders and Visenya was cradled back in their arms.

The clothes she had chosen were done on purpose. Alicent would expect a show of power but this would show the Lords and Ladies of how cruel the Queen Consort was, and bring more to her side.

They were interrupted when the egg that had been placed in the fire, cracked and began hatching. A beautiful creamy white hatchling crawled forth, stubby horns of pale gold glinting and black frills swaying as it moved. Laughing to herself, Rhaenyra allowed the hatchling to clamber up her robe and perch on her shoulder, giving it free range to look down at Visenya.

Rhaenyra murmured a quiet thank you to the Gods who had so far shown to be protective of their children with her. Laenor appeared behind her, gently supporting her.

"Shall we, dear wife?"

"We shall, dear husband."

Together they made their way through the halls, Ser Harwin and two healers behind them. They earned odd looks as the Crown Princess was dressed in night clothes, holding a babe, with a hatchling perched on her shoulders. Immediatley whispers spread, so Rhaenyra played into it.

Her voice trembled, "Why would she do this, Laenor? Is she not a mother herself? To order me to have my babe taken to her when she is freshly born? What have I done to the Queen to deserve this?"

She made no attempt to keep her voice low as Laenor soothed her, shaking his head. Around them Lords, Ladies, and servents alike shook their heads in disgust.

Upon arriving at the Queens Apartments, they were met by the Dornish Delegation, the King, Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenys, and Lord Corlys all of whom looked angry.

Princess Elia looked furious, arms crossed over her chest as her husband, Prince Dorian loomed at her side. Ser Cole looked shocked, furious, and afriad all at once as the King ordered him to open the door.

Queen Consort Alicent turned towards the door as it opened, a poorly concealed smirk on her lips. "Princess–"

She cut herself off, paling as the King stared back at her, flanked by his family and a group of Dornish strangers at his back.

"Husband, what–"

"Did you order my daughter . . . to bring her newly born child . . . to you?"

"My king, I would nev–"

"Ask her maid, Father. The one who came into my rooms, blatantly disrepsected me, and told me the Queen commanded my child be brought to her," Rhaenyra interrupted, looking at the maid who paled dramatically.

"Well," Viserys snarled, looking every bit the dragon he had once been. "Did you? As your King, if you do not tell me the truth, I will have you imprisoned!"

"It's the truth! Queen Alicent sent me to the Crown Princess' rooms to bring her the babe!" The maid nearly sobbed. Alicent looked horrified as the hatchling perched on Rhaenyra's shoulder shrieked in victory.

As Princess Rhaenys and Princess Elia tore into the Queen Consort, absolutely furious that she would abuse her power in such a way towards a member of the royal family.

Noting that it was taken care of, Princess Rhaenyra was taken back to her chambers to rest before the feast that night.

At the feast, Princess Rhaenyra and her husband stood before the masses with the Martells to the right and the King to their left, using a cane to keep his balance.

"Lords and Ladies of the Realm. You have been invited here today to be informed of not one but two miracles," Laenor announced.

"The first is our daughter. Introducing, Princess Visenya Velaryon, Second of Her Name," Rhaenyra called, lifting the babe higher as the crowd cheered. "Whose egg cracked and hatched barely two hours after her birth!"

The dragon on her shoulder shrieked, rearing up to flap its wings.

Lifting his hand, the King called for silence. "When my ancestors came to Westeros, they tried to force Dorne to bend the knee but they fought back. Each King after has tried to do the same, demanding Dorne bow to their true King. But none succeeded. No King was able to bring Dorne into the fold. But the future Queen did.

"A contract has been drawn up for Dorne to be formally added into the Seven Kingdoms as long as a Targaryen Queen or King sits the Iron Throne. As per the treaty, Princess Visenya Targaryen and Prince Trystan Martell shall be betrothed and married upon her six-and-tenth nameday!"

Cheers made the hall itself tremble as the true Heir's supporters made themselves known. Lady Jeyne could be seen holding Princess Alyssa with Prince Jacaerys at her side while Lord Corlys held his heir – as the titles had been relinquished from Ser Laenor. Prince Maegor was in Prince Daemons arms alongside his cousin, Princess Baela as her mother carried her twin sister, Princess Rhaena.

Prince Aegon's supporters, who had grown weaker over the years, gave false cheers, seeking out the Queen who wore black and red upon the order of her husband. Much to Crown Princess Rhaenyra's delight the woman looked pale and washed out in the regal colors of the Royal House. It was a stark reminder that Queen Consort Alicent Hightower was no true Queen for even Aemma Arryn, who was oft bedridden, had looked absolutely stunning in black and red, her maternal house colors.

The strength of the Blacks grew and grew, furthered by the birth of Crown Princess Rhaenyra's fifth child, and second daughter.

Princess Visenya Targaryen, Second of Her Name, Future Princess of Dorne, Future Princess of Sunspear, the Traveler, the Diplomat, the Intelligent, the Learned, had been born.

What if... arya in dorne...

The new Prince of Dorne was highkey fine

Also Robin Arryn’s glow up was like the best thing ever

Star Wars HOTD AU

An AU where it is the HOTD setting with Star Wars characters. There's so many ideas that won't leave my mind. Like:

The jedi as dragon riders who protected the republic. Having the force and their dragons. With lightsabers being an equivalent to Valyrian steel swords.

Coruscant as King's Landing. With the king being replaced with the chancellor.

Each mayor planet being a kingdom with the lesser ones being cities.

Mandalore as Dorne, with their dragon killing beskar spears and hatred of the jedi. Having been able to resist conquest and refusing to join.

The unkown regions being the zone beyond the wall. Where sith magic and the darkside abound.

Plot wise I was thinking about how similar Daenerys and Luke are. Maybe Luke is the one that brings dragons back into the realm in a parallel to the ritual Daenerys did, only with Darth Vader, Sidious and himself instead of Khal Drogo, Mirri and Daenerys.

Or maybe we could see Anakin falling to the darkside and leading to the end of dragons and jedi alike.

There's so much that could be done with this idea, but i am curious as to what other people think.

It has been a year an a half since I began painting digitally. Before I only worked with traditional media, mainly oil and watercolor, but between med school and moving to another city for studying, traditional painting became a little impractical. The first picture is my first finished digital painting (done on IbisPaint, on a stylus-less samsung tablet) and the second one is one of the paintings I am more proud of ( on infinite painter, on a samsung tablet with s-pen).

I do miss painting with traditional media but shifting to digital allowed me to grow a lot and keep painting in the scraps of time, which is GREAT. I also improved a lot beacuse I felt freer to experiment without the fear of ruining a piece forerver ( God bless the undo button, my saint and patron).

In case you are wondering, the first picture represents Sunspear, the seat of house Martell. I kinda love the concept and as soon as I have the time I wil probably paint in again. The second one, of course, is Carcosa from "The King in Yellow", reimagined for my "Tales of the Dreamer" project.

Here- have a rushed Ashara Dayne before my trip to Poland. Not pleased with it, but I have nothing better to post

Into The Night | Daemon Targaryen

pairing: daemon targaryen x Original Character

summary: A moment of boredom in the most strange place to meet. Both Daemon Targaryen and Nadia Sand gets inrigued by each other. Which leads to games they’ll play.

‘‘..But I believe that unique things must have unique owners.’’

words: 5.8k

warnings: kinda smut, blood, red flags because Daemon Targaryen is a big fat red flag.

author's note: There is more to this story. I will probably share it as Part Two but let me know if you like it!

English is not my first language so spare me for any grammatical mistakes I made!

Might I add that Reblogs and any kind of  feedbacks would be amazing.

***

Daemon Targaryen was a man with great anger in his heart.

And as he had many reasons for this anger, he also had troubles that could disturb many people in many unique ways for the sake of reflecting his feelings.

Sometimes he would take care of Caraxes. Flying too close to the city, terrifying the common folk was scared for their lives.

Sometimes he inviteted the knights of Westeros to duells. Knowing that all would end in bloody ways.

And ofcourse, aparts from all kind of small and big efforts to annoy his brother who was the king. The simplest of all and perhaps his most innocent way to distract himself was wondering around the brothels of the Kings Landing.

Many times the reason of this wonderings wasn’t to find a parnet. Ofcourse the night usually would have ended with one but that wasn’t the first thing in his mind.

The reason was the study the simplicity of those people. He watched the entertainment they had, not needing to think anything strategically. He saw through people’s eyes the absence of anger and their simple desires for life.

But that never made him jealous. His anger, his strategies, his desires was what made him the Rogue Prince. And for that he embraced all of those qualities.

It was only that this simplicity was enough to distract him at some annoying moments of his life.

And while this moment of trying to distract himself. Daemon saw something beyond naked bodies and moanings full of desires. He someone fully dressed. And in that moment he was imediatly intrigued. Walking towards that direction with curiosty then while walking he realised that the someone was a woman. With a White big shirt and leather trousers on herself. Holding the win cup, looking at the direction of the bodies dancing but not watching.

In that moment Dameon smiled, realizing that he had found something more interesting to distract himself.

On the other hand, when the woman watched the dance move in a slightly different direction in the area, which was very slightly demarcated with orange, dark pink and blue fabrics, what she actually thought was not even the image in front of her.

She could even say that the show hasn’t been successful in attracting her attention.

Because her mind was too full.

And unfortunately because she was too distracted.

So she found herself in such a ridiculous situation which she couldn’t exactly think exactly what to think. Nor was it succesful to enjoy herself like she would many nights after hard days.

Taking a sip of her wine with a sigh of boredom, she heard a voice saying, "You must not be enjoying the show," over the music. And for a moment, when the fog in her mind dissipated for a moment she turned her attention to the owner of that voice.

The woman didnt say anything. With a slight smile she looked to the light purple eyes and silver hair. Immedietly knowing who she is facing. But that didnt stop her from turning her back and looking to the bodies of many men and women.

“At this point, people start to join the dance.” Said Daemon. Not minding the way she acted.

On the other hand while feeling the presence of this taller rogue prince behind her even more, she looked at the group of people trying to kiss and touch each other. Not caring for the dance they started. The groans and voices of those who had intercourse drowned out the music. The environment seemed to have turned into a more steamy, warmer place now.

‘’I am not interested.’’ She said with a clear voice. Feeling the hand of this man on her arm, gently moving. Clearly not wanting her to leave. But when she felt his other hand on her other arm she immedietly turned to him and with a slight smile got close to the ears of this tall men leaning to her.

‘’It seems that you are very interested.’’ She showed the stage with her hand. ‘’I shall leave you to it.’’

The woman did feel the burning under the gaze of this man as she walked down tge corridor. And before she turned left to leave the room. Feeling the sensation those hand left on her body for a slight moment she looked at the man one last time.

But when she saw the prince’s very slight grin ahd the narrowing in his purple eyes. She was very damn sure that it wasn’t the their last look.

No one was sure where Nadia Sand was originally from. At first sight, because of her white skin and dark red hair most people would have thought of her as a northerner. Mainly because those qualities was not something to be found in the south of the continent.

Many thought she was also a noble. With her dresses of good quality and knowing the manners to be appreciated by the upper classes. More precisely, when she wanted to get their likings, she could easily achieve it.

And the reason for that was simply because of growing a family like Martel’s. Know how to adapt when necessary, but don’t need to provide.

In time, besides her womanhood Nadia managed to go for capital’s need for fabric and spices to help her succed. Her stubbornness and leaving no choice but to work with her stupid men who stood on her way. She somehow managed to achieve the success she wanted in the Capital and Dorne.

But to hold that success was a hard deal with many paths never to be easy to go.

But she never stood back. Not leaving this patriarchal order stop her. She even started market researches over time. Finding the needs of the capital. And while exporling for those needs. She realized that life in Kings Landing was not as boring as the southern lands would say. Offering a different beauty in change for the lands she grew up in.

And in time while she learned to amuse herself with those beauties and relieve the stress of her difficulties. Still no entertainment was ever enough for her to sit in peace.

Still, she knew it was her best chance as a bastard.

Because for someone like her it was expected to be one of those women at the entertainments. Or, at best, a mistress to keep a wealthy Lord's nights warm.

But she was not a prostitute nor a mistress. She was a merchant who had managed to buy a house just outside the capital. She was an active business woman. She was not a Lady who was expected to get pregnant and have children. She was not a woman who was expected to entertain men. She was a woman standing on her own, with little help from her adoptive family, but in essence still on her own.

That night, she tried to remind himself of this as she watched the night sky trying to calm herself.

When she heard the knock on the door. However, She had to direct her attention to her bodyguard, who had entered. And when she heard the words, what she was thinking now had completely changed.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen is here."

The woman frowned slightly and nodded in agreement. Moving towards the door, she stopped in front of the balcony watching curiously as the man entering the living room.

For some reason, she didn't even feel surprised. But in the same time she wasn't sure how to act. What to say.

As a matter of fact, the man before him was one of the most dangerous men in the Seven Kingdoms. And it wasn't just a rumor. The woman knew this very well. Witnessing those scenes of criminals whose body parts were cut off and killed in the streets without waiting for court. Many times watching the dragon flying over the city to frighten people.

“Prince Daemon.” Shee spoke without taking her eyes off the man. "It's suprising to see you here."

The man smiled slightly as he surveyed the room. Glancing casually at the papers on the embroidered table in the middle. Both knew that he was trying to establish dominance in the room with his demeanor. But for the moment they acted like they didn't know.

From there the man started to study the painting on which the woman received as a gift. At first it seemed to interest him. But without saying anything, he changed his direction again.

''Nadia Sand. I can't say I had a hard time finding you."

"I can't say I'm hiding."

This time he started walking towards the woman. The room was large, but at that moment, Nadia felt as if the room was small as the man slowly moved towards her. Despite the high walls and large windows, the room felt not spacious at that moment but very intoxicating.

But she continued to watch the man casually as he stopped and held his hand over the burning candle. Then he looked up and continued to study her.

"I've heard that you do other things other than strolling the streets of the capital. In the dark of the nights."

Pulling away his hand from the fire, he ran his fingers over the skin that should have been burned. As if showing his skin without any burn marks. Trying to impress or maybe scare the woman. But when he realized that the woman was not going say anything and wouldn't react, he continued.

"I can't say I'm not interested. You know." The woman smiled and walked through the balcony door into the room. She considered offering wine, but also remembered that being too close wouldn't do any good.

"I'm sure the best fabrics and spices are always supplied to the Red Keep.’’

This time, the man moved towards the balcony and watched the city lights. He could also see the fires lit from the castle what he supposed to call his home. Looking just like little stars.

Bu at that moment, he felt that the place he should call home was too far away from himself and his heart.

But it wasn't his home that he had to focus on. He had found a more fun game. So he began to speak;

“Clothes and spices are what the capital wants, I'm sure. But they are not what I am looking for.” He turned to the woman. Wanting to suprise her and knowing what he is doing from the rumors he heard. "I've heard that the Dornishmen are skilled at making daggers." He began to approach again. He didn't stop himself when he realized that the woman wasn't backing down. He continued until he was close enough. As he got closer, he first examined the woman. Her features, her white skin, her full lips, her beautiful neck.

"Maybe you can offer me something that I want." He stopped. ‘’You know, a dagger. A well worked unique dagger.’’

Nadia didn't move. She just looked up at the taller man. She watched the man's eyes roam over her shoulders, which was left uncovered by her dress. On her neck, lips, cheeks, and lastly, her eyes. She was aware that a game was being played and luckliy she always enjoyed such games.

“Maybe I can offer that,” she said. Then she took a step back and continued speaking. “But I need time to choose the most beautiful one for you, my prince. I can't make out anything right now. Since nothing would suit you so easliy.” She wanted the teasing to be felt in her voice, so with a smile she added, "Your Grace." And bowed her head just a little. As not to put herself in too much danger.

The man smiled and looked across the room this time. "I didn't think Dornishwomen were this complimentary if this is not adulatory."

The woman did not give the reaction the man wanted. On the contrary, she smiled. “Oh we're not complimentary and not in any way ass lickers.” She took a single step towards the man. “We only know the people who aren't worth the trouble.” She tried to pull back, but a firm hand grabbed her arm and stopped her. Nadia waited for the man to say something. But she was only caught under the sting of his light purple eyes. "I'll wait for the dagger. Nadia.” He didn't neglect to say one last sentence as he let go of her arm and started walking towards the door. "I'm looking forward for your night rides."

That night, the woman did not go anywhere. Or the nights after.

On the other hand, she knew the dagger suitable for the prince from the very first second. But still, perhaps to calm her mind, perhaps to make things clear in her mind, she also studied the other daggers from Dorne. All of them had fine unique embroideries, some had colored stones, some had slight curves.

But as she studied these unique works, there was a voice inside her that shouted that what he really wanted wasn't the Dagger. And while she knew that voice was true, she still didn't take it seriously walking down to the cellar that she store the valuable things. She took the special box inlaid with scarlet and yellow stones and silver metals, which she had admired since the pieces arrival there. She slowly unlocked it, pulled the red silk cloth aside, and looked at the dagger, the details of which she knew so well.

She hoped she wasn't making a mistake as she lifted the box up, knowing very well that she was making a mistake.

For a week, the woman did not go to any kind of entertainment. She ended her evening wanderings, but it wasn't because of the spies she felt that were following her. Some days she had problems with the products that arrived late. Then with the tradesmen whining about the late products. And she encountered their willingness to pay less.

They way she solved thing was not very Lady like.

She slowly entered the room, not saying anything. And then calmly puttig her two hand on the table which this old obese man was sitting she presented the terms.

“Either you are going to buy our products at the price we shook hands in the beggining. Or I and my good southern frinds start selling the products with much higher prices to all the vendors you try competing.” Shee bent over the table and continued her threat as if it was the simplest thing. ''And after a few months, you will see that the products you bought with the hope profit, are finished. Nobody would want to buy from you anymore. Your wife would either abandon you or would start selling herself to feed your children. And all your children's faces never wanting to look at your stupid face. And like that you start to end your days at this table alone with the nasty rats and your filth reminiscing about your old days.’’

And in that moment as she looked into the man's eyes, she realized that she had solved this problem with words, and she was relieved. She didn't want to be hostile to anyone. But everyone knew that if it wasn't for the woman's own strength, the southeners did hold on to each other. And that could have spoil things down.

So the man accepted the price.

And so that week passed down dealing with men like him. In a way she did try not to think anything outside of work. And with this little threats, with little complimentaries and with a great amount of wine she almost did manage to distract herself drom the image of the silver haired man.

But every evening in the end turned to a torture.

She thought about the way moved in the room, and the way he approuched her in the brothel. And with that great amount of wine her imagination didnt helped her in the slightest.

A week later of this days and nights. After she calmed down with her business she found herself staring at that box she had taken out. And for a moment she considered the possibility to find the man at the Red Keep.

And the possibility of not finding him.

And the big possibilty of not just doing a simple trading and just selling the dagger.

Moreover, she did not want to sell the dagger, which would be ridiculous for a merchant. But she wanted to give it to the man. For she knew that among the gifts he had received from hundreds of Lords, this would have a different place.

As the sun began to set, the woman placed the box in a leather bag, leaving the bodyguard to watch the house, as she almost always did.

Because she knew, a man could not protect her from Daemon Targaryen.

"Prince Daemon it not in his room, but he was waiting for you."

These words played over and over in her mind. First, she wanted to go back, saying she she could come later. But when a woman came close to lead her to Daemon Targaryen's room, she just stood there. “The Prince has stated that he does not want you to change your mind. He will be in his room soon.”

And after the long corridors she walked through. Nadia had a chance to assess the situation only when she arrived in the room. She could only begin to comprehend the situation as she watched the maid pour her a glass of wine and then leave.

She doubted at first, that she would be lead to his private chambers. But very deep down she knew that she wanted to be brought there.

The woman slowly placed the leather bag on the chair and began to survey the room. Its size was like the size of her own living room. And the view the window opened to a much higher, wider view than hers.

So she walked towards the balcony. And studied the view overlooking the sea, the preparation of the city for the night, the last minutes of sunset. It was very different from the view she had seen either from her house from the Kings Landing and the Dorne castle she grew up.

On the other hand she thought about what position her arrival in that room had put her in. After all, she had come to the man herself. It was now known what her cards were. Trump was on Daemon Targaryen.

A voice on her mind told her that Daemon Targaryen always had the trump card.

When she heard the door opening, the city had left itself to the night. Cooler fine winds had begun to blow, and the candles in the room had been lit.

She looked behind her, but did not move. And didn't say anything. Just returned to the city. Simply asking the man to come to her. The blowing wind, on the other hand, shuddered this time with the excitement she felt.

As Daemon closed the door, he saw the bag on the sofa, but he didn't really care about that at that moment. He also saw the filled wine glass. And slowly poured himself a glass. And with that slow movements he wanted her to wait. He wanted her to be more tense, and more excited to what to come.

He slowly opened the front of the black long coat he was wearing and took it off and put it on the other chair. He took off his own dagger, along with its sheath, and slowly walked to the balcony, wearing a loose white shirt. And holding two glasses of wine in his hands.

When he reached the entrance to the balcony, he stopped again. Watching the way her hair flowed in the wind. And her black dress slightly carresing her body. Black were hardly worn, neither in Dorne nor in the capital. But Nadia Sand looked enchanting in her dress with fine small golden yellow embroideries made of to the fine fabric. Each blowing wind revealed the beauty of her body lines.

Knowing that the man was watching, the woman turned and looked at him. With the faint light of the torches on the balcony, the man looked like he could take her breath away. Besides, it wasn't about the guy being handsome or beautiful. Nadia knew she had seen more handsome men in her life.

But none of them could have made such an impact. She knew that too.

“I heard you didn’t go to the shows this week.” He straightened up from where he was leaning and approached her as he handed her the glass. '’Nor you attended the performances. There must be a reason for it''

Nadia just slightly squinted her eyes. It was clear that the man was investigating her. But she still pretended to be surprised. "I didn't expect you to follow me," she said with a fake naivety as she took the glass. "I must say I am quite suprised."

This time the man didnt amused himself. "You didn't answer my question," His words was met with a quick reply. "I didn't realize you were asking a question."

The woman didn't hold back much under the unresponsive stare. “I had important work to do.” She took a sip from her glass. "More important matters to deal with."

"Like finding something I can desire."

"If a dagger can be desired, yes."

The man took a sip from his glass and leaned against the balcony stone next to the woman. And with the clossnes he smelled the clove scent from her hair and looked around, only to find her eyes back. Thinking to lead the conversation to a much more interesting place.

“It must be a tough job.” The woman's eyebrows rose in curiosity. “You know, trying to find the middle ground with fun. The men and women in from the brothels said that you are almost always stressed. That you don’t really say anything, but that you are looking for relief. And that it can be difficult to distract you.”

"Looks like you've researched me a lot."

He looked at the crescent necklace around the woman's neck. He didn't say anything for a moment. But his hand went to the necklace. The fact that they both shared their love for the night seemed to amuse him.

“And while those women were talking about this, I thought of two things.” He took another sip, set the glass down on the stone, dropped the necklace and stood up, watching the shorter woman raise her head slightly. Curiously following him.

"It doesn't seem that hard for me to distract you."

He looked over the woman's shoulder at the height they were standing as he shut Nadia between his body and the stone. Then he wanted to see if she was scared.

But beyond the woman's sharp features, he saw only curiosity and perhaps excitement in her eyes. So he continued.

"And that our resemblance may not be just for that night."

One of his hands moved to her hair, which this time fell from her shoulders to her breasts. And he tangled her hair in his fingers. Not neglecting to let his fingers lightly touch her shoulders. “You see, there are not many people who are overwhelmed by the weight of their thoughts. And those who think so usually don't think much anything in life." He moved a little closer. By causing the woman to bend a little into the void. “But we love challenges, don't we?” He suddenly grabbed Nadia's waist with both hands and sat her on the cold stone, this time seeing the woman clinging to him in a moment of fright. At that moment, the wine glass in Nadia's hand also fell from the deadly void, but neither of them took their eyes off each other.

"You actually like to force yourself to be above of old, stupid, self-righteous men who don't want to listen to you."

His hands went to her neck. "I've been watching you, Nadia. The way you work is not a simple and smooth way of working. And your work is not so small that you want to keep a low profile. You like to play this game and you like to win this game.''

He leaned close to her ear. "Isn't that the price to pay. The thoughts that keep you awake?"

As he held her tightly by her waist, at the end of his little silence, she spoke with a whisper in his ear. “And you, the Rogue Prince, are you being overwhelmed by thoughts that keep you awake?” She felt the hand on his neck tighten slightly. And she swayed back. Knowing that the man was holding her.

“By making efforts, trying to vent your anger by fighting, killing.” She lowered her head to the man. "By taking out your anger fucking women."

“Well, are you overwhelmed by your thoughts those nights you visit the whorehouses?” He didn't pull back his hand from her neck, but tightened his grip on her waist. “By revealing your body as expected from your last name, expected from a bastard, from a woman. Are you avoiding your thoughts by trying to get through the night with some little people who will never get your attention? Nadia Sand. I struggled with simple pursuits for a very long time, but now I have a gut feeling that it wasn't worth my time.''

His hands went from her neck to the middle of her breasts, lowering his head towards her. "Now I've found something much more interesting."

The woman didn't say anything. But she didn't miss his brown eyes either. It wasn't just curiosity anymore. And Daemon saw the desire in her eyes as her hands moved from his shirt to his shoulders. She came close to his lips. Their breaths mingled.

But at that moment he said the words that the woman most wanted not to hear. Because the trump was in his hands, and he was a pissed off man who just liked to use it.

"Actually now, I'm curious about the dagger."

He could tell she was annoyed and almost red in her cheeks as he helped her down from the stone. Nadia took the Prince's wine glass and took a long sip, watching the city. She hesitated for a moment, then returned to the room without looking at the man.

She put the glass from her hand down on the table and started to speak as she moved to the iron-embroidered chair. Her voice much clearer than before. Just like trying to get out of the moment.

She was indeed trying to get out of the moment.

"I've been keeping this dagger out of sight for a while... I was aware that every person who would lay eyes on it would want to buy it, would want to own it. But I believe_ that unique things must have unique owners.’’_

She took the box out of the bag and placed it on the table. Numerous candles and torches in the room made the details in the metal box visible. She paused for a moment, waiting for the man to come closer. Then before openning the box she stopped herlsef and looked at the man who had come near her. “It wouldn't be right for me to open your present.” Daemon didn't say anything at first. He just studied the woman's face, looking for something. An expression, an expression of trying to deceive the man, looked for a disingenuous merchant face.

But all he saw was a woman who knew what she was doing giving a heartfelt gift.

Or he wanted to see that.

In a way he was used to receive gifts from traders to make their business easier. But the big gifts genereally went to his brother, the King, while he received less lavish symbolic gifts.

"I thought we agreed to buy."

“We agreed to find something you would want.” She pushed the box lightly towards the man. "This is what you would desire, as you would call it."

Curious, the man took the box in front of him and carefully opened it. He ran his fingers over the blood-red silk fabric that came before him. Its softness resembled the woman's hair.

And with putting the fabric besides he smiled at the dagger, which seemed to glow even under the candlelight. He looked at his white hilt and the coppery motif on the handle. He saw the dark red stone in the very center of the handle, but his eyes turned to the embroidery on the case. He studied the Dornish embroidery on a darker gold color and the fine lines of orange and dark red small stones near the hilt and the different motifs around those lines.

When he finally took the dagger in his hand and looked deeply, his hand went to its holster and looked at the woman watching him.

At that moment, the closeness of the woman, her gaze, the way she handed the dagger, her voice, her scent, her beauty seemed much more valuable than any gift given. As if the gift was not just a dagger at that moment. But the whole memory of that night.

When he took the dagger out of its sheath without waiting any longer, he looked at the writings in the middle not interested to read immedietly and discover its hidden beauties.

The idea discovering the woman next to him was much more appealing.

Holding the dagger, he turned towards her. He closed the distance between them. “Unique things…” He brought the dagger to her rather deep collar and easily cut the first thread holding the fabric together. “Must have unique owners.” He cut another rope. ‘'Do you think that you are unique? Nadia.''

The woman shook her head negatively at the simplicity of the question as she tried to hide her quickened breaths with the excitement. The eyes of the man staring into her her eyes. “I am a woman, like many others.” Some part of the statment she did not believe it. But another part of herself had learned the lesson that she should never consider herself too superior. Too different. Only to be caught in a moment of weakness.

Feeling the coldness of the iron under her chin, she lifted her head. Not wanting to look at him, but forcing herself to find his eyes. “Most women are not as complicated as they think.’’ He began circling the dagger around her neck. ‘’Or as unique as they think they are.” Then on her cheeks. “But I think you might be unique.” He saw her gasp as the dagger reached her lower lip.

He changed his look. More domineering. “You weren't sure about coming here.” He said as he kept the dagger to be pressed to her lower lip. “You won't be sure the second time to.” Finally, when he saw the blood, he stopped pressing and watched the red fluid collect. “But you will keep coming.”

He brought his other hand to her lips. But he didn't touch it, he just swept it over.

This time the woman straightened up and approached the man. “But you are a unique man, aren't you, Daemon Targaryen.” The man kept his eyes on the light scattering of blood as she spoke. But he smiled. “I know I am unique, Nadia.” He began to lean towards her. "You know it too."

It wasn't slow when he started kissing her lips. He wasn't polite in his kiss either. But at that moment, no one expected him to be polite.

Nadia, on the other hand, felt that she was melting under the man's touches and kisses, and she knew that there was no going back now, and in fact, she didn't want to go back. With the taste of blood on her lips and knowing that he liked it, she should have wanted to walk away, but such a desire did not cross her heart or mind.

For that moment, she felt happy to be away from the simple thoughts of simple people, from the banal lives of people who lost their enthusiasm to life. And that happiness quickly gave way to desire. Not a sloppy desire but one that she felt burning her to lose herself. “Daemon.” And as she muttered the name of the man who had caused that desire, she felt as if all her excitement had gathered in her stomach.

It felt like too much was happening at once. One hand of the man found her hips while the other hand played with her breasts. Meanwhile, he did not neglect to bite the woman's lower lip and smile at the taste of blood flowing.

Daemon momentarily felt that the woman was getting lost between his arms. But finally he felt her cold hands on his cheeks. Then in his hair and on his neck and in his shirt. He felt her kisses deepen and lean against him.

At that moment, he pulled back a little and looked at the woman's blood-red lips. He watched her slightly messy hair, her gasping for air. And he thought again that her beauty would almost touch his heart. "You are a very beautiful woman," he said, while placing his hand on her cheek more gently this time. At that moment, Nadia was afraid that it was all just because of her beauty. But as the man continued in almost whispers, he realized it wasn't just about physics, "And strong. Determined. Clever.” His lips found her neck. She let out another hiss. Feeling the man going for many other kisses. And little bites.

“I will start to think that you've developed an obsession with me if you talk like that.” Grabbing her by the waist, he started walking slowly towards the bed. By forcing her to go backwards. "Maybe I've did."

"That wouldn't be good for me."

''Most probably.''

Nadia paused, forcing the man to stop as well, placing both her hands on his chest and bowing her head slightly. “Please don't become a danger to me.” She said in whispers. She didn't know where those words suddenly came from. But she knew that she had to make this silent statement. As if the blood on her lips and bites from her neck was not a reminder of an immediate danger.

The man could not promise that he would not become a danger. But he simply took his hands from her waist to her hips and then to her calves and easily picked her up. And for a change he looked up to the woman.

"I can try."