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Silk Gossamer

Chapter 5

Notes:

Inspired by Alicent's very mild burn after her grand entrance at the wedding.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Whether she was looking down her nose at them or averting her eyes from their state of undress, neither of them could determine from their place in bed, but the queen did have her chin raised. Her haughty tone was certainly a clue.

"Prince Daemon, must you accost the princess so immediately after…what presumably was her first experience?" Alicent asks.

“Presumably, she says.” Rhaenyra turns to tell Daemon with an amused voice and without any effort to conceal it.

Alicent carries on with a little huff. “I know she is not the sort of bedfellow you’re used to, but one would hope a prince would know to afford a princess some distinction. She should be very much in pain.”

Should.” Daemon scoffs and says “Begging your pardon, your grace, but I may not always be the most affectionate or polite of bedfellows, but none have ever come out of my bed ‘very much in pain’ before. Unsatisfied? Sure, we all have off days. Unceremoniously dismissed? Certainly, I do have my moods. But pain in the bedroom?” He asks, seemingly appalled but then with a smirk, he says. “Only when requested.”

While Alicent tries to grasp that last statement, moving her mouth like that of a fish out of water, Rhaenyra joins in.

“You know, I thought I would be a bit sore, given how very large he is. But wonderfully, Daemon is very skilled at coaxing wetness from a cunny, that we required no supplemental lubrication until our fourth go... Oh forgive me! Do you prefer kitty or honeypot as a euphemism?” asks Rhaenyra, struggling to contain a giggle.

“I prefer not to speak of it so explicitly!” Alicent finally manages with a great deal of disgust.

“Hmm yes, that is good practice. Best not speak with authority on subjects you know very little about.” Daemon chuckles shamelessly.

Rhaenyra smirks at Daemon and says “Surely a mother of two would know a thing or two about coupling, my love. Why else would she come to us bearing advice?” She then turns to Alicent with a puzzled look. “It is however curious that you would offer it now that the deed is done. Had I not once known you to be my sweet sister Alicent, I would almost think you withheld your assistance until after the fact, and had only now come to gloat at what you expected to be a dreadful experience. It is a good thing we know each other better than that.” Rhaenyra concludes with a sweet smile.

After briefly imitating a dying fish yet again, Alicent says “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Clearly, you’re remarkably knowledgeable on the subject.”

The queen turns to leave, but Daemon manages a final jab before she reaches the doors.

“Yes, we’ve got it all sorted and you have nothing left to contribute here.”

The doors slam close and Rhaenyra turns to Daemon.

“Two against one. That just wasn’t fair, and entirely mean spirited.”

“That’s just for implying you should be ashamed of not being ignorant.” Daemon says with a shrug.

“You’re a terrible influence, husband.” She reprimands him but could not pretend not to be amused.

“Hardly. She knew she’d be trading jabs with two when she walked in uninvited.” says Daemon.

“Perhaps she expected me to be silent. A good little wife, flower freshly plucked, and riddled with shame.”

Rhaenyra imitates a wilting flower, much to Daemon’s amusement.

When he catches his breath after laughing, Daemon concludes “Well, there you have it. I think I’ve found your first customer, sweetling.”

Rhaenyra looks at him dubiously before asking “You think Alicent would benefit from such wanton apparel? Does she seem dissatisfied in that department?”

“Ugh! Don’t put that image in my head. On second thought, she might be too proud of her suffering to remedy it. Righteous in her ignorance.” Daemon rolls his eyes with exasperation.

“You exaggerate! She’s just too pious for her own good.” Rhaenyra attempts to dismiss the notion.

“If she had any self-respect, she would have discarded the father that sold her by now and committed herself to her new family…” Daemon begins to rant.

“I admit, I haven’t been very welcoming.” Rhaenyra winces.

“…or had gotten rid of us for him, or for herself or for her children. She does have your father’s ear.” Daemon continues.

“It wouldn’t stick, just like your many banishments.” Says Rhaenyra.

“Yes, but it would be a choice on her part. Instead, we’re in this limbo where she is so very torn, like she doesn’t report to Otto on every drunken thing my brother lets slip.”

“Or she just needs satisfaction.” Rhaenyra posits.

“HA! Well, if it is that, she’s not getting it from Viserys.”

Rhaenyra grimaces before asking “I’m going to regret asking this but…Really? They’ve got two children already.”

“The King is willing but ill equipped.” Daemon says with a smirks.

Rhaenyra frowns and asks “How would you know?”

“I just had a very revealing conversation with your father this morning. My rather tame performance last night was apparently full of unnecessary ‘flourishes’. He’s a selfish lover, and a selfish lover is an uneducated lover. It is not a skill that can be improved without outside evaluation.” Daemon says with authority.

Rhaenyra snickers but humors him. “Evaluation? How very clinical?”

“Well, none of my lovers have ever given me a formal assessment but I try to be observant in the act. Make note of what they like and listen when they have complaints.” He elaborates.

“And you've bedded people who are forthcoming with giving critiques to a Prince of the Blood?” Rhaenyra questions.

Daemon shrugs and says “If they know me well enough.”

Rhaenyra shakes her head but pushes no further. “Well, I know you quite well and I have no complaints. And though I wish not to share you, I am grateful for your many educators.”

“Well, you have no complaints now but I have a broad skill set. You haven't experienced all of it.” Daemons says suggestively.

And Rhaenyra answers in kind. “Well, we must do our due diligence then and try it all.”

Their lips inch closer together when suddenly Daemon pulls away.

“Hold that thought.”

“Daemon?” she calls as he retreats behind a screen.

“I have something for you.” He answers along with sounds of rummaging.

“In the privy?” Rhaenyra asks with a chuckle.

“No, you cheeky thing!” He says before reappearing and approaches her with a small bottle.

“What is it?” asks Rhaenyra.

“Tea. If you want it.” Daemon offers with some caution.

“What do you…Daemon.” Realizing the purpose of the tea, Rhaenyra takes on a true reprimanding tone. “We are required to make heirs.”

“I know. I just...I spoke to Maester Gerardys, the maester of Dragonstone. And I asked about your mother, her vulnerabilities. And he said there's an extensive history of Targaryen brides with similar difficulties, my mother included, and it might be attributed to how early they start baring children. An immature body, under such stress, with lasting damage, compounding after each pregnancy...” Daemon rambles.

“Daemon, my mother had me at four and ten. I am seven and ten. Alicent was not much older when she started.” Says Rhaenyra.

“I know, but I thought we could wait a year or two just to be sure. It should also allow you to be more accustomed to the idea. This did not seem to be the life you originally desired after all.” Daemon argues.

“That was when I thought I was due for a loveless marriage with a reprobate as the father of my children.”

“And now you have me.” Daemon derides.

But now I have you.” Rhaenyra corrects him. “My father was right about one thing. I had been alone and angry, without allies and surrounded by vipers for too long. Not anymore. I want a family again, made of us. I even want our cousins to return into the fold.”

Understanding dawns on Daemon’s face. “You want to swell our ranks.”

“Perhaps. You are the returning war hero. Will there be war?” she asks.

“It doesn't matter what your father says or the lawful line of succession. Otto will make it so. They will try to steal your birthright and then make you out to be the would-be-thief. There will be no peaceful transition of power. It doesn't matter who takes up arms for you, if Aegon becomes king, all Targaryens without Hightower blood are a threat. So yes, there will be war.” Daemon concurs.

“And war is unpredictable. In your years away, I flitted between being angry at you and missing you, fearing you'll never return. Perhaps children will mean swelling ranks, having more to lose, or more to fight for. But from someone who has been without family for so long, having family also seems like the most joy we could manage for however long or short a time we have left until this war.” Rhaenyra hazards.

Daemon smiles affectionally and empathically as he says “Then I shall give you all the joy I can manage.”

Notes:

D: A legion of joy, even.
R: Perhaps just a company of joy.
D: A battalion?

Notes:

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