How does one describe flying?
Diana couldn't put the feeling into words as she clung to Daemon's waist as Caraxes circled through the air, taking sharp turns and dips, no doubt Daemon's attempt at scaring her. But, instead of scaring her, the rush gave her such joy that she couldn't contain her squeals and shrieking giggles. With her arms wrapped around Daemon's trim waist, her hair streaming behind her, having been released from its braid by the strong winds, she felt like a Targaryen Queen of old, riding into battle. And she loved it.
The saddle they sat in was obviously designed with one rider, forcing the pair to press together, Diana clinging to the prince to not fall off.
Maybe no one thought anyone would want to fly with him, Diana thought wryly, eyes squeezed shut as they did another death-defying dive.
Daemon, despite his claims, hadn't taken her straight home after he helped her climb onto Caraxes' back and into the large saddle behind him. Instead, he brought them the long way around the mountain, dipping into ravines and skimming the Narrow Sea's surface, making Diana shriek when the icy waters sprayed her.
As they turned west towards Runestone, Diana couldn't help but feel disheartened, tightening her hold on Daemon's waist. She told herself that she was holding tight in case Daemon brought them into another steep dive, but deep down, she knew the reason. She didn't want to go back home, where she would once again play second fiddle to Rhea and never taste such freedom again.
As they circled the castle, the sun was just rising over the mountains, making the grey stones of the keep almost glow. It was beautiful, a gilded cage for Diana to return to until she was sold off. For land, for power, for position, whatever her family required, she would be their offering.
It wasn't until she felt a warm hand clasp over the back of her own that she realized just how tightly she'd been clutching Daemon, looking over his shoulder, trying to ignore how his silver locks tickled her nose; she saw that her knuckles were white with tension.
Coughing uncomfortably, Diana went to release her grip. Still, Daemon stopped her, holding her hands in place, squeezing them for a moment, before releasing her and reaching forward to grip his saddle tightly again.
Diana knew she was blushing by how hot her face felt but tried to brush it off. The last thing she needed was to arrive home with a prince on dragonback, blushing. She was already sure she'd be shipped off to the Silent Sisters for her disobedience; people whispering about how flustered she was when returning would only make things worse.
As they slowly began their descent, aiming for a field nearby the keep, Diana held back a groan when she heard the sound of the watchtower bells ringing and a small group of guards exiting through the front gate to meet them.
Caraxes landed with a boom, sending dust flying beneath his clawed feet, and when he looked over to see the group of guards standing to nervous attention, he shrieked, thrashing his tail in irritation. Daemon, of course, got off first, jumping down with practiced movements before holding up a hand to assist Diana, ignoring their audience. Diana couldn't, of course; she knew every man staring at her with wide, incredulous eyes by name, and they would no doubt be reporting her every move to her father.
Once she was safely on the ground, she avoided Daemon's eyes. Instead, she stood tall, her head up in defiance as she marched towards Runestone, internally preparing herself for the onslaught about to hit her.
Ignoring the sounds of Caraxes taking back off into the sky and the thudding of metal-plated shoes behind her, she marched towards the gates. As she passed through the massive stone threshold, she hid a wince as the yard burst into activity at her arrival.
"Diana!" Her father roared, angrier than she'd ever seen him before, his face red and his clothes unkempt, as if he threw them on quickly, with no regard for his lordly appearance. Behind him, her mother looked the same, a thick, embroidered robe over her white, ankle-length nightgown.
Diana stood to attention and murmured, "Father," deferentially, her head bowed in penance, her hands clasped in front of her.
Before her father could continue his tirade, he stopped, his eyes narrowing before he begrudgingly bowed his head to someone behind her, "Your Grace," he muttered, his words almost indistinguishable in his contained rage.
"Lord Royce," Daemon drawled, sauntering forward to stand a few feet beside Diana, one hand resting comfortably on his sword, the famous Valyrian sword Dark Sister. He looked utterly indifferent to Yolbert's apparent rage, even going so far as to lean on one leg and smile benignly at him. "I'm sorry, I'm late. I was going to offer you my apologies when I ran into Lady Diana. She was on a walk, out in the field. So I decided to escort her home."
Yolbert was only slightly mollified; with one of the Crown Princes proclaiming Diana's innocence, it would look bad for him to contradict Daemon, his reputation as the 'Rogue Prince' or not. But going by the look on his face, Diana would be for an earful once they were away from prying eyes.
"Of course," Yolbert said, eyes tight, "Well, we better get you two inside. Prince Daemon, you must be starving and need a warm place to rest your head. Diana," He turned to Diana, eyes hard as he commanded her.
"Yes, Father?" Diana said, struggling to maintain eye contact.
"I believe you have lessons with Septa Harrow this morning. Get some food from the kitchens before you are late." His tone and face told her that this wasn't her father talking, it was Lord Royce, and she was to obey or face the consequences.
"Yes, Father," Diana muttered, not looking back as she scurried away. Ignoring her mother's sad and fearful eyes staring after her and Daemon's imposing presence behind her back.
*** Line Break ***
"How dare you!" Later that morning, the sound of Yolden Royce's roaring echoed throughout the halls of Runestone, even hidden away in his private study. His wife was on his right, and Rhea on his left behind the desk while Diana sat across from them. She was sitting in the chair designated for visitors. And at that moment, that was how she felt, foreign and unwanted in her own home. In a room she'd played in as a child. But sitting there now, with her family united against her, she'd never felt more lost and far away.
She also had the disadvantage of being the only person seated in the room, with her mother and sister standing to attention, hands clasped in front of them while her father paced back and forth. As he paced, he stood firm, face red with anger, while Yolden spat vitriol at her. It terrified Diana to see her father so angry, he'd always been kind and understanding to her, but now she could see he had another side to him, one he'd kept hidden from his young daughters.
The side of himself he saved for his enemies.
It was such a queer thought. Just by being alone with a boy, she was now considered an enemy by her greatest ally and protector, her father. All these racing thoughts had Diana holding back tears, her face feeling like it was on fire while her hands ached from how hard they clutched them to her lap.
What a fool she had been. So naive as to think she'd ever truly be taken seriously by men, even those she claimed as family. Ultimately, she was a girl, meant to sell off and for breeding, disposable to men and easily replaced once she was no longer useful. And the fact that her father had turned on her wholeheartedly confirmed that.
Diana felt parts of her break and fall off, her innocence perhaps? Her hopes for a better, kinder world? Those pieces slowly turned to ice and fell away, shattering on the cold ground beneath her feet as she was forced to grovel for her father and beg for forgiveness. Diana had to wrestle with the fact that she no longer felt safe in the halls that she'd called home and that a part of her would never feel safe again.
As soon as she'd gotten her moon blood, she'd become a woman in the eyes of the court and nobility, and for every month she hadn't been sold off and bred, she lost a little more of her value. She'd railed at the idea in the past, but as she listened to her father rant about betrothals and duties, she felt herself go cold as the icy truth sunk in.
She would never be safe again.
Her safety was held in the hands of men and men? Well, men were fickle creatures with a propensity for violence and cruelty, unlike any other living creature. In a word, she was fucked.
She didn't bother to look to her sobbing mother and sullen sister for support; she knew they couldn't and wouldn't help her. They were beholden to the same laws and order as she was, and to defend her would be to jeopardize their own place in the world.
"You will not be out of your Septa's or guards' sight for the foreseeable future. You will go to your lessons and family functions and then back to your chambers. You will not ride, you will not hunt, you will simply obey. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Father," Diana choked out, her voice clogged with tears.
"And if I hear another whisper of you doing anything to jeopardize our family while Her Grace the Queen and the royal princes are here, I will ship you off to the Silent Sisters myself and be rid of you."
Diana lost her fight with her tears and felt them fall down her hot cheeks, cooling them slightly. Then, coughing around the lump in her throat, she nodded stiffly.
"Now, get out," Yolden rumbled, taking his seat behind his desk and turning to his bereaved lady wife and morose older daughter, dismissing Diana without words. It might have been better if he'd simply stabbed her in the heart because that was what it felt like as Diana retreated, an abnormally silent Ser Viktor on her heels.
He'd been ordered to watch her all hours of the day until told otherwise or risk being dismissed or even killed for negligence. Diana had been assigned 3 other guards to make sure that would happen, they were all on strict schedules, and when she was in her chambers, the door was to be locked unless a maid or septa were present.
Diana was lost in thought as she made the long trek up to her rooms in total silence, except for the clunk of Ser Viktor's armour. So much so that when she heard the male voice call out from one of the many alcoves, she jumped and spun on her heel, making Ser Viktor reach for his sword, pulling it out with a slight hiss.
"Careful, My Lady, or I might be forced to put down your dog," Prince Daemon smirked, stepping out of the shadows and looking totally unconcerned about the great sword being wielded in front of him. The smug look on his face made Diana's blood boil; of course, he didn't care. He was a man and a Targaryen prince; what kind of consequences could he face?
None, that was how much, while she, a young maiden, took all of it upon herself.
"Your Grace," Diana ground out, wanting to escape and clobber his perfect face simultaneously, "How can I help you?"
"I hope your father wasn't too upset with our little adventure."
How dare he? He knew how it had looked when he landed right next to the keep. That was why she'd asked him to land somewhere unseen, and he hadn't listened. Instead, he'd been looking for a reaction for his own amusement.
She could feel her hands clenching into fists but fought back the urge to spit in his pretty face; father would be even more furious than he was if she spilt royal blood in his keep. Instead, she forced herself to give him a sickeningly sweet smile and simper out, "My Lord Father is a kind and generous man, but even he must discipline his children. Part of that punishment is that I must remain in my rooms. Now, if you would excuse me -"
"Nonsense," Daemon said, waving a hand, "I'm sure he wouldn't begrudge you for listening to a prince's request. Come, let us find some fun," he held out a hand in invitation, ignoring the glare Ser Viktor gave him from his post next to Diana.
Her hold on her temper snapped, and without a word, Diana spun away, her hair slapping at Daemon's outstretched hand, and if he tried to grab at the strands, she didn't notice in her rage. Then, ignoring his low chuckle, she strutted away, her hands clenched into firsts and her breath coming out in deep pants, hoping to contain her anger.
Daemon Targaryen was a cold-hearted prick, and she'd been a fool to believe he gave a shit about her. She wouldn't be making that mistake again. Everything was a game to him; today, she had been his fool.
**Line Break**
As Daemon lounged at his place at the high table next to his father, he made no effort to hold his smirk or his lecherous stares. Despite the tension because, according to everyone there, he was staring at the wrong Royce sister.
Despite his grandmother and the Royces' best efforts, seating him next to the eldest daughter, Rhea was her name? He hadn't taken the bait. Why would he? With her stiff posture like she had a stick shoved up her arse and that condescending snarl on her otherwise painfully average features, she paled in comparison to Diana. Diana refused to look in his direction, focusing on her plate and making only the necessary small talk when called upon.
The younger Royce daughter was no great beauty, at least not compared to some of the silver-haired whores he'd sampled in King's Landing, but she was pretty. With a heart-shaped face that still held signs of her youth, an attractive figure, bountiful brown curls and doe eyes, Daemon had no doubt she would grow into an elegant beauty like her mother.
Not his usual type, of course, too conservative for his tastes, but sacrifices must be made if he was to survive this hell his family put to him. Hopefully, if he got to his betrothed fast enough, he could mould her into what he wanted. If she was attractive, all the better for it.
Additionally, he found her short stature to be… cute. At least compared to his six-foot frame.
Unfortunately for her and fortunately for him, his grandmother had decided to interrogate the girl he'd been discovered flying with. Because, while Daemon was known for his roguish behaviours, with his whores and the like, he'd never been discovered with a woman of noble birth. He found them to be too much trouble and not worth the risk of being caught and wedded off.
Until now, not that he had much of a choice.
At first, he'd chosen to acquiesce to Diana's curiosity in spite of his family, who, against his will, had decided to marry him off far away from the capital and trouble. In their eyes, better his roguish ways be another family's problem, or better yet, his wife's problem to deal with. They knew that, despite Daemon's troublesome ways, he would be fiercely loyal to any children he fathered and, by extension, their mother, so who better to pick for a bride than one he'd have to bow to, a lady of her own keep.
Unfortunately for Daemon, the only lady fitting the bill was Rhea Royce, a stick in the mud with more pride than sense, going by how she'd made no effort to win him over since he'd arrived, instead spending her time watching him from afar with judgmental eyes. In retaliation, Daemon had taken to calling her in his head 'Brāedāzma aspo,' a Bronze Bitch. He thought it amusing due to his earlier nickname of Lady Diana, 'Brāedāzma gevives,' his Bronze Beauty.
The Beauty and The Bitch, it sounded like a fairy tale and made Daemon hold in a chuckle, coughing into his hand and avoiding his grandmother's disapproving stare. Queen Alysanne looked balefully over at him, but Baelon could only chortle at his son's mischievousness; it was no secret that Prince Baelon had always favoured the more athletic and hot-blooded Daemon over the older, more jovial Prince Viserys, to King Jaeherys and Queen Alysanne's disapproval.
Deciding he'd vexed his beloved grandmother enough, for the time being, Daemon turned to Lady Rhea and attempted to start yet another conversation, "My Lady, I have heard tales of your prowess on the archery range."
"What of it?" The bitch snapped, only tearing her eyes away from decimating her food to offer him a dead-eyed stare in response. Daemon withheld the urge to curl his lip at her and smiled benignly at her instead. Fuck propriety; maybe she had a pretty handmaiden he could fuck.
"So, Lady Diana," Queen Alysanne said, her eyes holding a spark of mischief and cunning, "My sources tell me that you are an avid reader?"
Daemon sat forward, eager to hear his beauty's response. It took a solid will to withstand his grandmother's interrogations.
He wasn't disappointed; the young lady looked close to crawling under the table as she looked up at the queen, her eyes leery. Then, after composing herself, she said, "Yes, your grace. I recently began to study Old Valyria, actually, in preparation for your visit."
A spark of heat ignited in Daemon's gut, raging hot at her words and the knowledge that she had the same interests as him.
Queen Alysanne's eyes sparked with intrigue as Prince Baelon also turned at the young maiden words. It wasn't often that a house that wasn't of Valyrian descent took a great interest in the Targaaryen's culture and religion. The Faith of the Seven had worked hard to turn their followers away from the pagan ways of the Valyrian Gods. It was one of the many problems that Good King Jaeherys had to solve throughout his reign after Maegar the Cruel almost went to war with The Faith Militant.
With the help of his wife, Queen Alysanne, who looked at Diana with assessing eyes, no doubt calculating which sister would help House Targaryen grow stronger. His grandmother had known much loss in her life, losing child after child to calamity after cruel accident. She was incredibly cautious with the family she had left.
"So your interest in the old world is a new occurrence?"
Daemon doubted it, considering how eager she was to see Caraxes, danger be damned.
Diana let out a slight giggle before catching herself and looking horrified at her imprudence, "Your Grace, I am so sorry; I meant no offence. It's just, well…."
The Queen raised an eyebrow in query, but when Diana seemed to be at a loss for words, her mother stepped in, blushing slightly in embarrassment, "My daughter's studiousness is well known in the region, Your Grace, but her special interest has always been-"
"Dragons," Daemon said, sitting forward, amused at how uncomfortable their hosts were discussing their daughter's interests. The wrong daughter's interests. Daemon had no doubt that Rhea would sooner jump off a cliff than spend her time looking through and translating Old Valyria texts.
At his interruption, the table turned towards him, eyes wide, but Daemon only had eyes for Diana, curious about how she would respond. She didn't disappoint. Unlike the last hour or so, the brunette beauty had decided to show her backbone and was staring him down, back straight and eyes narrowed. Yet, despite the room's tension, she didn't flinch or look away.
In fact, it wasn't until a servant cleared their throat awkwardly that Diana's blank mask cracked, and she let a slight smile slip through, dark amusement in her eyes, "You are correct, Prince Daemon. I have always been drawn to animals, but to meet a dragon? Well, you know how much I wanted to meet one of those."
Despite her mother's harsh inhale and her father and sister's blazing glares, Diana didn't flinch or look ashamed of her inflammatory words. No, it seemed the Bronze Beauty had reached her limit for cowering under her family's thumb for one night.
Good girl, Daemon thought darkly and, without realizing it, let out a slight chuckle, sitting forward onto his elbows, with eyes only for the mystery in front of him. If he had bothered to look, he would have seen the thoughtful expressions on his grandmother's face, the amused look on his father's and the outraged looks of the Royce family.
As he and Diana stared at each other, he revelled as a slight blush came over her cheeks, making her seem even more innocent than usual, and her tiny smirk turned into a full-fledged smile, bright white teeth shining in the candlelight, revealing an adorable set on dimples on her cheeks.
Without conscious thought, he returned the smile with a smirk of his own as his blood raced away from his head and down south, tenting his pants and making him forget himself in his lust. At that moment, he didn't care that the only reason he was there was to be sold for a solution to his family's political headaches; no, instead, he was just a 15-year-old boy, staring at a 15-year-old girl and enjoying every second of it.
If only he'd realized what he was setting into motion as a slow and secret smile slid across Alysanne Targaryen's face as she took in the couple, maybe he would have chosen to follow his proper head instead of his cock. But it was too late, the other foot had already dropped, crushing him and Diana in the process, and there was nothing he could do about it.
**Line Break**
The royal family stayed for a week before they were to set off on the following House on their tour of the Vale. It wouldn't do for it to seem like they were playing favourites and snubbing the Arryn's by not visiting the Great House of the region but visiting one of their vessels. The Queen and her party would visit Diana's grandfather, Lord Yolbert Royce, as he was the current regent and the Lord Protector of the Vale during the minority of Lady Jeyne Arryn after the Stone Crows slew her lord father and elder brothers.
As Diana stood in the courtyard in line with her family to see the royal procession off, instead of welcoming it, she once again felt anxious. The maiden managed to avoid the Rogue Prince the rest of his trip, choosing to hide away while he and Rhea went through the motions of 'getting to know each other' despite their apparent animosity.
The pair had gone for walks, had tea and even visited Caraxes under the Queen and Lady Royce's watchful eyes. But, from what Diana had heard after the fact, Rhea had been lucky Caraxes hadn't eaten her with how cantankerous he had been, and Rhea had refused to get within 100 feet of the 'beast.'
And with every failed attempt to create a cohesive match, Diana watched her father's frustration rise. She knew he'd lectured Rhea extensively about her continued failure, but nothing had changed. Daemon and Rhea were determined to hate each other, good political match or not.
Speaking of Rhea, the older girl had been in an awful mood the entire visit, snapping at servants and avoiding conversation except when it was necessary not to seem wholly inadequate as the heir to Runestone. Diana honestly didn't know what her problem was; all their lives, Rhea had thrived on doing her duty well, and now that she had a chance to marry a prince, she squandered it? It made no sense.
Looking over, she saw Rhea standing stiffly, her eyes on something off in the distance, back straight and hands clenched at her side. Furrowing her brows, Diana followed her sister's gaze and was startled by what she found. Standing in the window of one of the nearby towers stood Beatrice Belmore, looking heartbroken as she stared back at her sister. Dread pooled in Diana's belly as a suspicion crawled into the back of her mind, a dark idea that she couldn't bare to bring light to. If she was right, her house could be in even more danger than she realized.
If it's true, Rhea may never marry or bear a child… she thought, her heart rate picking up as she began to panic internally. Diana, of course, had heard of men and women with different tastes than others, but she never thought she'd meet one at Runestone. In her mind, those exotic people were made for Essos and other faraway places. Once again, more evidence of how naive she had been.
No wonder Rhea was so averse to marrying, especially to a known rogue such as the prince. Who would probably want to travel and would never be faithful to her or her duty to her house. And whoever she married, she would either have to hide her preferences or pray he would be understanding when she confessed. They could punish her severely if she told the wrong person or send her away to the Silent Sisters.
Her thoughts were still racing with all of the horrible possibilities of what could happen when she was pulled out by the Queen stepping forward to bid her father farewell, Prince Baelon and Prince Daemon behind her. Smiling, the Queen said, "My family and I thank you for this most pleasant visit, Lord Royce."
Her father bowed low and then stood back up, replying, "We were honoured to have you, Your Grace."
Nodding, the Queen took a step back and addressed the whole assembly, congenial smile in place, "I'm sure it is no secret the purpose of my and my son and grandson's visit this past week, and many of you are eager to hear the results of my observations."
It was as if the whole of the courtyard held their breath as she took a moment to share a look with Prince Baelon, noticeably not looking at Prince Daemon, who stood behind them with his arms crossed and his face a smug mask.
Then, slowly and surely, she looked back at the ground, a strange gleam in her eyes, "I am proud to present the next Princess Consort, Lady Diana Royce."
All was still and eerily quiet momentarily as the crowd took in the Queen's shocking statement. Diana felt like she couldn't breathe and had to focus on staying on her feet while ignoring the smug look Daemon was sending her from across the yard. But, of course, he wasn't surprised; this was most definitely his fault.
She didn't dare look to her right, where her sister was no doubt fuming.
After another tense moment, her father stepped forward and proclaimed, "To Prince Daemon and Lady Diana!"
With his permission, the crowd burst into confused applause, and Rhea took her chance to escape. When Diana glanced up, she wasn't surprised to see Beatrice long gone from her perch at the window.
Finally breaking under all of the stress, she looked to her mother and was relieved to see her already staring back, eyes soft and understanding. Diana felt like a little girl as she fell into her mother's arms, holding back tears.
"You'll be alright, my star," her mother murmured, stroking her hair, "now go on, do your duty."
Duty, there was that word again. Diana was starting to hate it with every fibre of her being. But she did as she was told and took her father's arm, ignoring the cold look in his eyes and walked with him to be presented to the Queen and the Princes.
When they were close enough, Queen Alysanne held out her hands in an invitation, and Diana took them, allowing the older woman to pull her close, messaging her hands, needing them until Diana was forced to relax. The Queen's eyes were soft as she said, "Welcome, my dear. I have no doubt you will do well as a Targaryen Consort. So rejoice, for your life can only prosper from here."
Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, Diana could only nod, eyes wide and movements stiff as she was passed off to Prince Baelon, who simply kissed her hand and squeezed it comfortingly, almost paternally, before she was handed off again this time to him.
Diana fought the urge to smack Daemon across the face as he took her hand in his, making sure to softly run his fingers across her forearms, making her shiver and goosebumps appear. His indigo eyes sparkled as he slowly, so slowly, raised her hand up to his mouth, bowing slightly to her and pressing his lips to the back of her hand.
Diana held back a flinch as heat surfaced in her belly at his prolonged eye contact as he took far longer than was socially acceptable to pull his lips away, and even when he did pull back, he took far too long to stand up straight and release his hold on her. Diana felt her chest rise and fall in fast, deep breaths when their connection was lost.
Smirking, the prince stepped away and turned back to her father and the queen, who Diana scrambled to realize had been talking the entire time and she hadn't heard them, too focused on Daemon and his idiotic purple eyes. Chuckling under his breath, Daemon took her arm in his and spun her around to face the crowd. Cheers erupted at the move, at their show as a united front.
Diana was sure she was as red as a cherry as she clutched Daemon's arm hard, and if she dug her nails in as punishment, who was to know. The Gods knew he'd never flinch in front of an audience. She didn't count on him reaching with his free hand to cover her hand with his, squeezing it in faux affection, when in reality, he was squeezing her back just as hard in retaliation.
Prick…
Thankfully, the royals didn't stay long; if they wanted to reach Iron Oaks by nightfall by ship, they needed to leave post hast. No doubt Daemon would get there faster by Dragonback if he decided to stay on course. So the two houses said their goodbyes, the Targaryens being kind enough to ignore Rhea's blatant absence.
Daemon being Daemon had milked the goodbye for all its worth. He held Diana by the arm, keeping her close to his side so their body heats meshed. And as he led her towards Caraxes, still in sight of their watchful parents/families, he allowed her to pet the crimson beast one more time before kissing her on the hand suavely and climbing up. Then, without waiting for his family to climb into the carriage, he took off into the sky, sending a banner flying in his wake.
Once he and the Royal Procession were out of view, with only a cloud of dust in their wake, Diana finally took a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding onto. With a shaky breath, she followed her parents back into the keep, not caring when she chose to go straight to her chambers without saying a word to them. There was no possible way they hadn't known what the Queen had planned, and they didn't warn her or Rhea. Like it or not, she was angry with them and for a good reason.
Her life would never be the same again.
