HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

☆ rūs riña [AO3]

“I know that,” she snaps. “I’m not some stupid little girl.”

“You’re a baby,” Daemon responds unthinkingly, his heart aching with how true it is. In his head it had been bewildered, aggrieved. She is a baby, a fucking baby. He can’t imagine having ever been this atrociously young. It emerges from his mouth differently: cooing, coaxing.

Rhaenyra blinks wet inky lashes at him, her bottom lip stuck out stubbornly, her chin wobbling. “I’m not,” she says in a whisper. There you go, he thinks. A bit closer now. “You are. My baby niece.”

☆ no democracy [AO3]

“I’m your father now. And forever. You want daddy’s permission?” He’s already granted it, but then again not really—he could not grant it if it was from the delusion it wasn’t his to grant. “Or do you want me to be the jealous lover?” He puts his hand on her throat, over his necklace. He can do either, but when she gives the minutest shake of her head and glances at him under her lashes with the shyness of an unsure child rather than the enticement of a coquette he lets out a relieved breath. She bites her lip and drifts toward the bed, sitting on the edge. “No one should touch me between my legs, but—but you. Why?”

☆ substitution [AO3]

Alicent flushes. She is tempted to raise her head from Rhaenyra’s lap to look at Daemon again, to confirm his mulish, unenthused expression at finding himself between her legs was not the product of her imagination. “I do not believe I am your uncle’s type.” “Which would be what?” Rhaenyra says, and now the surprised innocence is definitely an act. Unwilling to look anywhere else, Alicent glares up at Rhaenyra’s smirking face from her position in her friend’s lap. “I do not have his preferred coloring, princess.” “Oh, that. Well, it doesn’t matter what Daemon wants. Daemon does exactly what I want, and what I want is for him to get you off. He’s very good at it,” Rhaenyra says for the fifth time, and Alicent only refrains from taking off the finger that taps her on the nose at the first knuckle by the conciliatory stroke it assists Rhaenyra in giving her hair.