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ride-thedragon · 3 months

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NETTLES AND RHAENYRA, CHARACTER FOILS.

Because I'm not an English teacher

So the question is, How is Nettles Rhaenyra's foil?

1. Appearance .

Rhaenyra is a pretty standard Valyrian beauty. Silver locks, purple eyes, quite pretty, later on in life we get the change that she didn't lose the wait after giving birth to her kids and becùase of misogyny, her beauty has faded. Features like her long hair worn in the style of Visenya and so on are also mentioned. It's giving the Realm's delight in a real sense (not the weird sense).

Nettles, on the other hand, is juxtaposed as 'ugly'. She's brown, is skinny, has crooked teeth, a nose scar, and has short hair.

The maesters like to play to damn much, basically. But they are described as almost exact opposites. Short and long hair, skinny and fat, white and brown skin, purple and brown eyes, etc.

The narrative purpose is to ultimately show their different upbringing and places in this society.

2. Status

Rhaenyra is shown to be the princess, heir to the throne and queen throughout the book. No matter what happens with her, the security and privilege she has almost always goes over what other women have. Her only real threat is the men (and book Alicent) who have personal stake in her not ascending her throne. She's also entirely spoilt as princess and heir by her father and more so her uncle.

Nettles, on the other hand, is introduced to us as an orphan from Driftmark. We're told she could've been a thief and a sex worker by the time we met her. She has no name, lands, titles, or family that we are presented with in the narrative and her backstory for better or less is a patchwork of what her life was possibly like on Driftmark.

Unlike Rhaenyra, we don't follow every salacious rumour and really don't know much about her past.

3. Dragons

Rhaenyra’s dragon Syrax was a cradle egg hatched to her, a Targaryen custom. She's also the youngest dragonrider at 7 I believe.

Nettles claims her dragon at no older than 16 years old. He is a wild dragon (a distinction given to hatched Targaryen dragons that haven't been riden and live away from the keep) and slaughters many before she claims him.

4. Virtue

The notion of virtue in asoiaf is extremely complex, especially with these two women and the vastly different backgrounds. But virginity and speculation also develops both their characterizations in the narrative.

Rhaenyra allegedly "sleeps" with Daemon to practise what she wants to do with Criston (she's 15-). In the show, it becomes obvious that she almost sleeps with Daemon and officially sleeps with Criston. Either way, promiscuity and naivety are written into her character. The only point of conflict is who is involved with what happened in these instances less than what happened. Later on her promiscuity is brought up when Ser Harwin Strong is said to be the father of her first three children.

On the other hand, Nettles' sexual promiscuity is given to her in the narrative. The claims of her being a whore or sleeping around with shepherds are claims made by men who don't know what she was doing at that time. Men who made similar claims about Rhaenyra and their involvement in her loss of virtue as well. Where these stories differ is in Maidenpool, where the assumption of promiscuity is given a different voice.

This time, maids are alluding to an inappropriately close relationship between Daemon and Nettles (yet again, he finds himself here).

5. Daemon

Speak of the devil, and he will appear.

His dynamic is important to these women and their place in the narrative. Saving one dooms the other, leaving with one isolated the other. His decisions ultimately affect one while benefiting the other.

The cruellest example of this dynamic is him letting Nettles go after being the reason she is trapped in the narrative and ultimately dooming Rhaenyra by choosing to kill Aemond instead of going back to her.

His dynamic with both was also comparable with gift giving and quality time and even inappropriate relationship he developed with both of them, notably around similar ages. ( Both these relationships have significant power imbalances).

Between them both, his affection to one affects the other detrimentally.

6. Jace

Specifically in reference to his death, it's notable that within the narrative, while Nettles is described as crying by herself in response to his death, Rhaenyra is hardened by it.

Also, as symbols for legitimacy and legacy, Jace is the reason Nettles is recognised as a dragonseed, and Rhaenyra's line is secured as her first born, but in his absence, Nettles is delegitimised and said to be not a dragonseed. Around that time, Rhaenyra is beginning to be questioned by all the men around her as well, whereas before, Jace was a notable voice in decisions.

7. Dragons in the End.

They both meet their 'end' in the narrative with Dragons. Rhaenyra is killed by her brother's dragon Sunfyre burns and eats her, killing her in front of her son.

Nettles, however, escapes the narrative on dragonback, with the stories that follow explicitly explaining how dragon fire protects her and leads her to become a deity for the burned men.

8. Children

In the narrative, Nettles has no children. Children would explicitly be a burden in her described circumstances as a mouth to feed and someone else to care for. Effectively, children would trap Nettles in a cycle of poverty and inability to experience ethe freedom presented in the narrative.

Rhaenyra is expected to have children to secure her legacy and reign. Children, especially sons, would be her greatest benefit to ensure her ascension to the throne. They are her biggest strategy and losses throughout the war because of that reason.

This dynamic carries out to a head with the death decree for Nettles. The possibility that she would have a child by Daemon is a definitive reason that her 'treason' calls for her head. A child would give her a claimant but also be proof of infidelity by Daemon. It would be a slight to Rhaenyra’s pride and grief as she at this point has lost 4 children during the war.

9. Loyalty of men

This is one of the most interesting for me because the disloyalty of men for Rhaenyra meant the loyalty of men to Nettles. When the Mootons decide not to kill her, they are traitors to Rhaenyra. When Daemon lets her leave, he's a traitor to Rhaenyra. When Corlys stands up for both her and Addam, he's treated like a traitor. Furthermore, the Mootons turn to Aegon’s side directly after because they did not obey her for two reasons, Nettles being accused and sentenced without trial, and Rhaenyra wanting them to break guest right.

Within the narrative, at that point, loyalty to Rhaenyra was a sentence on Nettles' life, and loyalty to Nettles was treason to Rhaenyra.

Conclusion.

In other ways, like the impact of their legacy, the symbols of their identity (dragons), other ways that their narratives with Daemon (the stories) play out and so on juxtapose these women against each other in the narrative. Age and innocence in both a meta and narrative sense also play into Nettles being a foil for Rhaenyra’s character. Personally I think the reason ts written that way is for Nettles to cause a Stark difference in behaviour with men like Daemon and the Mootons as well as to show the contrast of what is expected and what is to be done and what actually happens.

Hope this helps 🩷🤎

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bohemian-nights · 2 months

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Such stories make for charming songs, but poor history.

#daemon targaryen x nettles #daemon x nettles #nettles x daemon #dettles #daemon targaryen #nettles #nettles asoiaf #nettles F&B #asoiafedit #valyrianscrolls #bngifs #flashing gif #bnedit

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venusintheblindspots-blog · 8 months

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More on the dynamic between Rhaenyra and Nettles…

One of my biggest qualms of ASOIAF, is the inherent racism displayed in the text, and the fandom, when discussing characters like Nettles, Elia, Baela, Laena and Rhaena.

My introduction to ASOIAF was House of the Dragon, and after watching, I was an avid team black supporter ( still am, Rhaenyra was Viserys’ heir).

After finishing the main series, and watching half of Game of Thrones, I reread Fire and Blood, focusing mainly of the Dance of Dragons.

Of all the interesting characters during the Dance of the Dragons, the one that caught my eye was Nettles, the first and last rider of Sheepstealer.

Her introduction alone was enough for me to fall in love with her :

“Unlikely dragon rider”, “the first and last rider of the dragon Sheepstealer”, “fearless”, “cunning”

Very little is known of Nettles’ upbringing, as the accounts of Eustace, Munkun and Mushroom are biased with racism, classism, misogyny and second hand information.

I’m not particularly sure if it was George’s intention, but the language used by Gyldayn and the a portion of the fandom is a prime example of how black girls are robbed of innocence and agency when being accused of ‘wrong’.

Going back to her relationship with Rhaenyra, the two women are not on equal footing. Rhaenyra was awarded privileges even other noble women in the realm could only dream of,(not that she lived without suffering, she still faced misogyny & sexual abuse), as opposed to Nettles, who lived as a commoner with nothing to do but survive.

Coming around to the Dance of Dragons, Nettles fights for Rhaenyra’s claim as the rider of Sheepstealer. She grieves Rhaenyra’s children, and the loss felt in war.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s are implied to have an open marriage in Fire and Blood.

Mysaria is Rhaenyra’s Mistress of Whisperers during the Dance of the Dragons, with no implications of animosity between the two. Yet, upon the hearing of Daemon and Nettle’s rumored romance, Rhaenyra is angered?

Rhaenyra’s disdain for Nettles reminds me of another harmful dynamic in real world history,- a jealous white woman, and a young black girl being cut by the blade of her vengeance. Rhaenyra dehumanizes Nettles, going as far as to call her a creature and demanding a brutal death for Nettles, so that Daemon could be free from her ‘sorcery’. She cannot conceptualize how Daemon could be attracted to Nettles, so she accuses her of using magic to bound him to her.

Their dynamic reminds me of the relationships between wives of white slaver owners and the enslaved women that their husbands would abuse sexually. The blame is never casted on the husband. Whether or not Nettles and Daemon had a romantic relationship or a father-daughter one, she did not deserve the treatment Rhaenyra gave her.

To close this, I still like Rhaenyra as a character. She’s interesting in a sense where, regardless of what she’s done, she was the better option for the Iron Throne, especially if we are going off of her character in the show. However, she still reads to me as the epitome of white feminism. Her fight is for no one else but herself.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #anti rhaenyra targaryen #asoiaf nettles #nettles defense squad #hotd #nettles x daemon #nettles f&b #nettles asoiaf #anti fandom #nettles #netty #mysaria #gyldayn #daemon targaryen #sheepstealer

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chrkrose · 7 months

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Okay so just a rando ask, I was reading through the posts on your page,, and I came to thinking

If daemon truly abandoned Rhaenyra, why didn't he just run away with nettles? Why did he have to still fight for team black when he could have just flown else where with her? Rhaenyra would have met her own end inevitably. I’m no daemyra shipper, I’m not a daemon fan either it just doesn't add up. He sacrificed his life to get rid of the biggest threat of team green? Wouldn't it be fair to assume it was for Rhaenyra? Or atleast his children.

Now this is just my personal opinion, he loved nettles, yes (she's awesome who wouldn't 😩) but he also bore some love for Rhaenyra (she’s mommy🥰) as well. He chose to let go of nettles to protect her because he loved her. He chose to fight for Rhaenyra because in the end of the day he loved her and wanted to prove his loyalty to her (but wasn’t actually faithful lol)

Daemon in his Katherine era 💀💀💀💅 blurry ass pic

He died for her cause if not for her in the end of the day. Well atleast that’s what I think 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

I don’t believe in the theory that he fled with nettles, it just sort of feels out of character for him, to leave his children, Aegon the younger in the clutches of Aegon ii. Daemon imo would scream his head off if he knew his first born son was captured by Aegon ii, and somehow work up some scheme to get back into the game and possibly overthrow Aegon ii. And it just seems unlikely he survived the fall as well.

Daemon is a complicated and morally grey character, but like any character he has his merits and he has his flaws. I think his love life would be as complex as he is, conflicted by both duty and love.

I hope I make sense lol, I want to know your thoughts.

Ok, so first thanks for being normal even if you have a different opinion. Usually, I always get a bunch of people screaming at me lmao. It's cool to have rational discussions even if in the end the parts just agree in disagree. Now, back to the points you brought. I still disagree lol. Imo, Daemon didn't die for the cause, much less for Rhaenyra or his children. I'm gonna break down why I think this argument makes no sense whatsoever:

Fire & Blood never implies that Daemon had a close relationship or even cared that much for his children. He didn't hate them or anything, but we have no canon basis to say he was a fatherly type where he thought of his children that much or was willing to make huge sacrifices for them. This is fandom projection 101. So to say he did what he did thinking of his children is a stretch IMO.

Aemond wasn't Rhaenyra's biggest threat at the time. Her biggest threat was Daeron and the Southron army he had assembled. It's canon. "And yet, the greatest threat to Rhaenyra's reign was not Aemond One-Eye, but his younger brother, Prince Daeron The Daring, and the great southron army led by Lord Ormund Hightower." And that was before Ulf and Hugh's betrayal and before Rhaenyra alienated Addam by declaring him a traitor as well. So even if Rhaenyra didn't say anything about that in the letter to Daemon (which I doubt, since she was sending the letter to demand Nettles' death, so she sure talked about the dragonseeds' betrayal), Daemon knew about that already. He knew that without him, she was fucked, because she would have only Tyraxes and Syraxes on Team Black's side, and you can exclude Syraxes since Rhaenyra wouldn't go into battle. He knew all of that. He still chose to die anyway.

About running away with Nettles, a few things to consider. As long as he was with Nettles, she wouldn't be safe. If he runs away with her and Rhaenyra somehow wins the war, she will send for him. He would be a traitor, she'd never forgive that. If Rhaenyra loses, Team Green is definitely going after him. He would be a threat to the throne, they would never let them live. The best way to protect Nettles is to send her away alone. Besides that, regardless of what happened, if he ran away with her, he would never be able to return home and I doubt Daemon was keen on living on the run forever. It doesn't fit him.

It seemed like he was tired of war, tired of the scheming, tired of fighting. Even before I reached the point where he makes the decisions he makes, I felt his narrative shifting, and his time in Maidenpool with Nettles looked much more like a vacation to him and a respite than a mission. He seemed happy with Nettles, and happy with that bubble he created for them, but once reality burst that, he seemed done with everything. This is also sort of corroborated by his dialogue with Aemond, where he agrees he has lived for too long.

The narrative in any way frames his final battle with Aemond as something he is doing for the cause. Daemon might have gone through a somewhat redemption arc, but he's still very much a selfish man and someone who would never go down in any other way than not an epic way because he is "the rogue prince". His showdown with Aemond is written as something about both of them as characters whose arcs are mirrored at every turn, finally culminating in their final encounter, and written as Daemon's big send-off.

The narrative specifically frames his final act as a betrayal through Rhaenyra's lens, further corroborating all that was set up before, something that is narratively satisfying to the reader because at this point she's very much the villain instead of the hero. We have seen her burning bridges, behaving poorly with the smallfolk, and being unfair with allies, culminating in her acts against Addam, Nettles, and Corlys, and overestimating her hand to the point of being arrogant in her certainty that Daemon would come back to be with her after murdering an innocent woman. Until this point, Daemon and Nettles have been written as a romantic arc, one that ends in heartbreak, specifically because of Rhaenyra. So we have this moment of satisfaction when Rhaenyra realizes that even though she did everything she did, and she was so certain she would win, she actually lost. He left her. He betrayed her.

The story leaving the "possibility" that Daemon could have survived and gone to find his way toward Nettles serves to show where his loyalty truly lies, and where his heart is, in life or death. If anything, to believe he went on a suicide mission because he couldn't stand being apart from Nettles is a much more acceptable and logical conclusion of his final choices than the bizarre cope that is the "he died for Rhaenyra, for his children, or for the cause".

Finally, I don't think he loved both because I don't think he ever loved Rhaenyra tbh. Not like he loved Nettles or Laena. An argument can be made that he loves Rhaenyra in the show adaptation (although I disagree about that medium, but this is for another post). But in the book, it's very clear that she's not on top or even second in his list of "women I romantically loved most in my criminal life". I say Nettles comes first because his love for her seemed to come from a genuine place of wonderment and affection, with no hidden agenda behind it. Laena comes close behind because even though we don't know if he indeed fell for her or if he married her to advance politically after his recent downfall from power at the time, he clearly came to love her very much in the years they were together and was happy in their marriage. I say even Mysaria might come first to him than Rhaenyra, he clearly cared for her for a while and was very upset when they lost their baby. The only person beneath Rhaenyra is Rhea because he clearly hates Rhea. In the books, Daemon groomed and wanted to use Rhaenyra to get back at his brother/get closer to the throne and later they combined their shared vision and aligned political ambitions in a marriage that was beneficial to both of them. Obviously, there was physical attraction (and co-dependency on Rhaenyra's part), but love? I don't think so.

#Nettles #Daemon Targaryen #Nettles x Daemon #Anti Rhaenyra Targaryen

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green-ajah-aes-sedai · 7 months

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Nettles

Hardly a likely paramour for a prince, one would think.

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qyburnsghost · 3 months

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I wish there was more variety pairings in the fandom🥲.. only so many times I can read about the fictional daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin or Daemon with Aemond and the same plot line… after reading Rhaena x Aemond ( @arcielee and @delcatty have good ones!)or even Baela x Aegon(I know I know I hated it to but after reading it, it’s so toxic and I love it!), I realize how much is missing and how good it goes together! It’s so exciting cause they actually have canon history and perfect enemies to lovers or grumpy sunshine or natural dom sub vibes. Shit I even read some Jace x Baela x Cregan that was really good ( @xxpeppermintxx109 ) or even some Jace x OC x Aemond ( @lightningandfireinmybones has a good one). Shit, even a Nettles x Daemon variety could be fun ( @richardsthirdnipple does them). Perhaps,sigh next season.

(I wish my writing abilities hadn’t left me I’d do it myself tho I know it wouldn’t be popular enough to be read)

#aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #aemond #ewan mitchell #ao3 #aemond fanfiction #rhaena #rhaena of pentos #nettles x daemon #daemon targaryen #baegon #jace x cregan x baela #jacela #baela x aegon #baela x cregan #nettles asoiaf #rhaena x aemond

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lovelipton · 8 months

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Chapter 4

Smut warning: Masterbat!on.

It seemed a betrayal to imagine her. It was an unfair thing to lust for.

He grabbed the oil jug from atop his fire place, taking it to his night stand, coating his fingers as he sat down, trying to conjure up any other image.

The blood orange smell had lingered on him, adding to the difficulty of the situation. The tallow oil smelled like her hair. Perhaps he should ask a maid, at least one would be willing. The thought back to their lingering touches and wanting stares during his bath, pretty girls, older than his companion, their pale hands gliding over him with a wet cloth, how his hand slid down the girls back, how the smell could take him back if he gave in.

He stopped himself, mindlessly grabbing his neglected cock with the oiled hand, trying his best ignore his thoughts. He slid his hand, in the same memorized way from his youth and tried his best to be quick.

He thought about his wife, the salt air the first time he had her, a time where it was need and not want, the feeling of her thigh against his hand, her mouth on his. When she was younger, all those years ago in the brothel.

His hand picked up speed, he felt himself building to the needed climax. His head arched back, lost in older memory. He stroked his tip, grunting with his dependence on the budding release.

The stench of stale ale in the air, the mindless interlocked bodies her eyes pulled to. Nettles eyes would pull like that to any new thing shown to her, the ale was polluted with the stale wine.

If he stopped now he wouldn’t finish, he was a man lost to his urges. His mind flashed to her, half dressed, undressed, licking her lips, laughing and looking up at him, mouth ajar for what ever reason. It felt wrong to imagine, he tried to think to anything else but a memory of her would cloud his mind and judgement for what was right. All he knew was what he needed to do. He was almost there.

He grunted with each stroke, on the brink of his anticipation paying off. He heard the knock at the door and couldn’t answer. He leaned into himself, tugging away mindlessly. The oranges danced with his building sweat. A coating covered him as he drew near than he had been in months, her round breast, revealed itself from her raven coils, he could taste his peak.

He could hear her calling his name, through their door, he didn’t know if he was half conjuring it.

“Daemon?”

His peak came with the swing of their door, a curious call of his name and a strained grunt at her intrusion.

“Sorry, Your Grace.”

Ever quick, she recognized his state, wide eyed to be sure with a quick apology and pulling the door back shut, he was past the point where he could stop himself. He dropped his cock as it spurted over the floor, the immediate guilt and relief flooding him together.

He placed his hands at either side of him, nearly delirious with the relief of his expectation, he steadied himself and recognized where he was, what he had done to get there, almost angered by the new clarity.

He could apologize to her to her enough to justify it, he had to apologize to her now for what happened. The door wasn’t locked on his insistence to his side, he should’ve spoken to send her away. He felt no control over it all, a deep desire settled in his soul over it.

He stood up hazily and got dressed, wiping the sweat off his skin and rinsing away all the musk that had developed in its arrival. He knocked the door of and searched her room to find it empty and unmade. He closed the door and made his way to breakfast through his room, he had no desire to see the state he left his in.

He felt hollow as he made his way to the dinning area, unwilling to face the myriad of emotions he could anticipate from her, he doubted he would look less that guilty at her, her face changing into something more desired now.

He walked in on her, in deep conversation with Maester Norren and Lord Mooton, she’s the first to recognize him in the room.

She stands as he would expect, a glimpse of shyness lingered in her expression, avoiding his eyes entirely, preserving her serious expression as the others join her greeting. He made his way at her side. They all sat together, going into a less intense version of the previous conversation , she refused to meet his eyes.

“You should ask him now that he’s here. Perhaps you’ll listen to him.”

She was never impolite, if she was angry her tone would say but she simply sounded flustered, with the same restrained anger she met him with more often than not.

“What is your request my Lord?” He stared at the fat country Lord, seemingly caught up in the throws of the previous conversation. He looked towards the girl, who focused intently on the porridge in front of her, idling herself by playing with it, breathing deeply to calm herself.

He wondered if she had cared about what she saw, if his worry would even matter after he heard what the Lord said, it didn’t seem to impact her day as much as he had.

“I’m simply curious about the possibility of you both splitting up, to find Vhagar and cover the Riverlands with your protection.”

He could feel his anger rise with the closing of the statement, seeing why there was need for the argument in the first place.

Did he think they sat on dragon back each day to waste time?

That they simply enjoyed the others reactions to the piles of bodies they’d stack every other week?

He felt Nettles heat leave her as he restated what seemed to be the same conversation to him. She was as anxious as she was angry.

The girl couldn’t sleep for so long, at least having someone near her, making sure she would was a comfort. He doubted whether she would eat alone or take care of her self without his insistence. She drank herself to peace just the last night.

His grand plan never made her a causality, he recalled. She’d always go back to Rhaenyra’s side as he went after Vhagar. Even as a suggestion the girl was in danger by herself against Vhagar. No one dragon could stand alone against her.

He gripped the knife in his hand tightly, trying his best to rationalize his anger before he spoke. Did he think the girl was here in jest for company alone?

He felt a warm thing grab his thigh, shifting his demeanor to confusion , he looked down then up at her, a weary expression trying to reassure him, in some small attempt to quell a dragon’s tendency. He could feel himself calm, wondering if she used the same method on Sheepstealer before.

He turned back to the scared Lord, resting the knife down before he responded.

“It would be a useless feat, no dragon alone would stand against Vhagar, even I need someone at my side to make sure I return. Her grace is very adamant on that front.”

She moved her hand back to herself and he felt the warmth leave him, almost hostile in its departure. Her food busied her as the conversation continued, over breakfast, entailing small notes about the following steps towards a quicker end to his nephew.

He checked on her throughout the conversation, sometimes justifying it by making sure she took note of certain places, other times to ensure her presence, just to gage her reaction. By the time they were done he was sure he had paid her more attention, against his better judgment.

“We will leave you both to discuss further, Your Grace.” The Maester stated before departing behind his Lord, it couldn’t have been after nine when he and Netty were finally left alone.

She was wearing a Targaryen red dress, truly made for court, she found a way to make it look like an appropriate dress for the occasion, it dipped low like a King’s Landing style he noted before turning away with he thought, entirely.

“Did you finish?” The question sounded common place out of her mouth , for a moment he felt the air get knocked out of his lungs.

His expression caused her to muffle a laugh, and he found, hearing the air leave her as well. For a moment, they waited for their composure to wash over them before the conversation flowed.

“I seem to have taken to making a fool of myself with you. I owe you my apology.” In a better light, he’d see it as a just remark to make, but even the knowledge that she had helped him to finish seemed wrong. The only comfort was that she didn’t know.

“ I think it is a new talent. You did avoid the notice entirely.” She said, stifling a laugh. He recalled the morning before, and he looked for the cut to explain the blood from a young lady. He seemed to lose his sense around her. He remembered how her voice sounded half fantastical at that time, the expanding of her in his thoughts.

“I was caught off guard, to be clear. Then the last conversation made me see red, I could imagine how you felt.”

The fire her hand stoked had yet to disappear, being around her seemed secretive and new. Her scent seemed alluring, her easy smile entranced him, so surely, he thought, he could breathe her like life itself.

“It’s done now, you have the day to recover.”

It was cruel, he thought, to desire her when he’d barely earned her trust. He only just started to see glimmers of the light Jace had written about. Had it not been for the prolonged and hollow description of her appearance, he would’ve thought the boy had half fallen for her. Now, he understood why the words felt the way they did, appearance or otherwise.

“You and Jace were close?”

He regretted it the moment he asked. He saw the way she transformed at the mention of his name, seeing her reaction to it, like someone had stabbed her through the heart. She dropped the spoon for her food and rationalized the question. He wished he could move from it all together.

“He looked out for me, more than he did for the others.” Her voice lacked any emotion, like she was keeping a secret about them from him. Had he known either of them else, he would’ve thought he stumbled onto an affair.

“That was nice of him. He wrote fondly about you.” He held the goblet of watered wine to his lips as she gazed off to the side. He wanted to go back to the people they were before.

“He liked to care. One of the better traits he had. He’d get angry like you. That was a worse one.” He heard the hint of a smile, but her words hit him hard now. Jace was argumentative, never really taking to him like a father, more so a ward, more so an uncle, he supposed.

They had a shared grief over him over Viserys, and even as she seemed to close herself off from the emotion it caused, she cared enough to allow for the understanding. He knew he had taken to all the children in her own strange way, but even now, it seemed the first time he shared his grief rather than felt it alone. It had torn at Rhaenyra, he recalled, a mention of what they had lost would take her away from court, a sentiment he couldn’t share with her.

“I should go check on the dragons, I’m sure they’ll be glad for the break.” She stood up, distant and monotone, excusing herself without his response, walking away with the warmth. She left him cold and almost desperate.

He’d heard from the shepherds that she’d whistle to call Caraxes. In another light, it seemed as though they were singing through the whistling. She wouldn’t miss a day without feeding her dragon, flying or not, dragons bend easier when fed.

Perhaps they understood each other better than he could imagine, they’d understand being hungry, he supposed, from her eating habits, it was a way to show love, to bond with such a new relationship. The first rider of an eighty year old dragon was a big feat for such a small girl.

The rest of their day was spent apart until dinner. She had gone to Jonquil’s pool, a famously dangerous place for Targaryens, stopping by to announce it and then disappearing altogether for the evening period.

He lost himself in the letters, distracting himself from what now seemed like his worst impulse, responding to Lords who wished for protections, Lords who needed aid and the Lords at court who seemed to worry about the Queen, succession and all the things he was less glad to be away from now.

He was mapping out the route for them to take in the following days, when he heard the mouse of her presence. He called out twice to no response before their door eased open, an unkempt head of hair meeting him before her eyes did, a glimmer of light meeting him after the daunting day.

“How are you?”

He asked, looking at the blue evening dress coming into view, hugging her frame as she made her way to him. He preferred her in red.

“It was fine, no murder attempt.” The ease from before still had yet to take back her voice, a trend he hoped wouldn’t continue in his presence. One he hoped he’d gain

“I should’ve gone next week, with the full moon.” In passing, she’d mention something akin to a superstition she held. He didn’t think she prayed to the seven, judging from the Septa’s reaction to her she didn’t intend to but some small beliefs held in her.

“You pray to moon gods?” He asked passively, drawing out a trivial conversation , just to stay with her for a while, before they went back to the day to day.

“A little faith is always good. I suppose Targaryens would believe in themselves.” He looked up at her, comprehending the jab before returning to the map across his table.

“Then you should try it, unlike other Gods, your dragon will never disappoint you.” Unlike her Dragonstone bred peers, she never clung to the idea that she was a Targaryen. Unlike Addam and Alyn, she never claimed to be Laenor’s spawn or a Velayron.

She was simply a dragon rider, almost insulting the legacy of Targaryens with the refusal. It seemed more interesting than ill meaning, to him at least. What girl did not want to be a Targaryen?

“I wouldn’t prefer it, you’ve grown around men for too long, it makes the faith less believable.”

He smiled down at his map, trying his best to avoid her quick remark towards his suggestion. He decided to deflect from it all together.

“You should sleep better tonight, or you can have the maester make you a sleeping drought.”

He could feel his heart rise at the mention. She still hadn’t told him about her lack of sleep. Her history at Maidenpool with Milk of The Poppy or the sleeping drought wasn’t more than a secret understanding he could never uncover. Thankfully, she seemed unconcerned with the suggestion.

“I slept a while last night, I’m sure it’ll be better tonight.”

He recalled the dark bags under her eyes, the redden gaze that met his, the dirt from the day caked on her until this morning. He wondered if she would lie to him so carelessly, he glanced at her to see a look of understanding on her face. Perhaps she had forgotten, like with the Poppy milk.

“You didn’t look well rested?” He quirked an eyebrow to her, wanting to absolve her of the misunderstanding.

“I had a bad dream. I got up and couldn’t go back to sleep, hence the wine and tired look.” She fumbled with her hands, avoiding his look with the newly revealed information.

“The wine isn’t acceptable, I’d prefer the drought.” He sounded like his father the first time he visited Dragonstone after his wedding to his first Lady wife.

“ It wasn’t to sleep, I just..” She stopped herself, drawing his full attention to her now, this was a new conversation they had gone too.

“I just wanted to get rid of the thought of the dream, to lose some control over hearing the same thing repeatedly.”

She sounded like him when he justified his drinking to his grandmother after the wedding. He should wait, he knew he shouldn’t push to far with her, he’d get less understanding if she closed off entirely. The thought that she could be opening up was too tempting to ignore through, the hope she’d put the trust in him was pulling him like a tide to follow the conversation.

“What was the dream?”

He sat down looking up at her, she seemed delicate with the candlelight around her. She was water in his hands, he was scared to let go of her, for the first time they were as close has they had been because of her.

“ Nothing truly, I’m just a stupid girl who can’t quiet the stupid questions in her mind.”

Corlys had guessed that she was no older than ten and six, according to his ship mistress, she was a child on Driftmark with the others. He still had never heard her call herself a girl, now, she never seemed to capture the word well. He guessed she’d been an adult for longer that she was a child on the streets Addam claimed she resided on.

“What could be so bad?” It was half a plea to her, half a question for himself, what had plagued her thoughts so bad she’d need to escape her mind.

“I’ve been like the people we aid longer than I’ve been a dragon rider.” His shock from her answering the question couldn’t be concealed but she barely looked at him as she confessed her plight, he could only listen.

“They drop like flies, while I’m hunting the largest dragon alive, it doesn’t seem likely that I survive it.”

Her confession felt like someone had slapped him, she was almost mouse like now, quite in the space she held, dimming her own light, allowing the darkness to shine.

“I promised you..” He began forming some response, some sense of understanding in what she said, a comfort he’d given himself at the thought of her in danger, in that situation.

“ Yesterday, men clung to me begging for their lives to end, fathers and sons alike. Bigger and stronger than I’ve ever been. Terrified and dying because of the only thing that makes them not like me.”

Her voice was distorted with the anger and sadness that possessed her, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so open with him.

He’d give her whatever he could. He was never more sure that she’d never fight Vhagar.

“It was too much , all at once but I’m fine now.” He hadn’t hidden his demeanor, the divisive anger that guided his action. He had just wed at her age, she had a lifetime ahead of her, like Jace and Luke, like Viserys. She had children, chaos and adventures , written in her spirit.

It seemed a cruelty for her to doubt it.

“I meant my promise to you, Netty.”

He stared at her, catching her fallen gaze before it met his, staring past her, if she could trust him, even for a moment now, all would be well worth it.

“You’ll have a lifetime for yourself, I swear on Caraxes.”

She chuckled at the implication, seeing it as no more than a false comfort to pull her out of her doubt. She probably had a lifetime of promises from men just like him. He had never meant anything more though, he could feel the promise seal into his very bones.

“It is all well now, Daemon. No need to drag Caraxes into nightmares.” She was joking, he felt as though he’d gotten too serious now. She’d retract the new position she held him in if he pushed anymore, he’d settle for her contentment now. His plan seemed to settle more together than ever now.

“Very well.” He stated as she sat down next to him. He informed her about their mission to Pink Maiden, then to track where he might go from there to try to ambush him. She was quiet for the rest of the conversation.

They ate in his room that night, a simple meal of Acorn soup , with small conversation about packing between them. He felt almost mad looking for a difference in her demeanor with him, waiting to see if the confession had changed anything between them, with a resounding no by the end. She was content with it between them and moving along as though it hadn’t existed at all. He felt trapped in a desert with no water around him as they finished.

She wished him a good night and closed the door behind her shortly after the meal. He was a deranged man he thought. The thoughts left him half mad, devouring him until he had to put it away.

Tomorrow would be a new day for him hopefully.

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