hotd: Daemon x Ceryse

Ceryse longed for the sea. She longed for the days she could set sail and spend weeks if not months at sea. Unfortunately, since her father's death, the Lady of Driftmark didn't have any opportunity to do what she loved the most. Vaemond Velaryon was the only one who understood her desire to navigate until the gods claimed her sight, but Otto Hightower and now Daemon Targaryen didn't share the same opinion. Ceryse became a trophy to be kept on a shelf. She became an asset to protect and use when the time was right. They ignored the person she was and only saw her as a commodity to further their plans. Well... It was true for Otto Hightower, but for Daemon Targaryen, it was somehow more complex. 

Daemon first saw her as a distraction. She was a beautiful maiden, the daughter of a man who disrespected the queen and her heirs. He liked the idea that he was the one who killed her father and who took her maidenhood. He insisted on it being a willful act from her, thinking that it would just twist the knife a little harder in her flesh. At the start of it all, it worked. Ceryse felt as if she had betrayed her own father because the man who claimed her was the one who killed him. She couldn't reconcile the fact she did something so intimate and so good with someone she loathed more than anything else in the world. Daemon relished in her tortured face, the anger that was boiling just beneath the surface, the shame and yet the desire for more he could see in her eyes. He had fun with it. At first. 

Things started to take a strange turn as he found himself more and more drawn to the young woman. He couldn't exactly explain why he was drawn to her but he wanted to be with her. When he wasn't busy, all of his thoughts went to her. Not Rhaenyra, not his daughters... but Ceryse. He remembered his hands wrapped around her neck, holding onto her thigh and his lips kissing their way up to her ears, or down to her belly. He remembered vividly how she sounded when he was deep inside her, or how she felt around him. He remembered her beautiful face, her hands holding onto the sheets of her bed, her hazel eyes staring at his face as if she didn't want to forget him. He wanted it and then some more. The prince consort caught himself thinking about waking up to her, allowing his rough and calloused hands to cup her soft face, or travel her tauth and skin tanned by years of sea fearing. He caught himself dreaming of crowning her his queen instead of Rhaenyra and having her sit by his side as his rightful lover. Was he falling in love with her? He didn't know, and truth be told, he didn't want to think about it. But she did. 

"I can no longer remain here, Daemon. I have to leave and go back to King's Landing."

"What if I refused? What if I wanted you here with me?"

"Here? In this abandoned house? Am I your prisoner?" -She questioned while she was quietly brushing her hair.-

A prisoner she certainly was. At least at the beginning. It became obvious that Daemon couldn't keep her in that isolated place forever, lest he wanted her to lose her mind. He didn't want to watch her whither furthermore but it became clear that the greens were not ready to give up the throne. A war might be inevitable if things didn't change. That was the reason for Daemon's torment. He didn't want to send her back and certainly didn't want to keep her in this little house like something he wanted to hide. Daemon was a man of passion and he wanted to be able to live as he saw fit. He wanted Ceryse to be by his side. He wanted her to live at Dragonstone with him... with Rhaenyra and his children. He wanted... no... He needed her presence, so hearing her claim that she was a prisoner didn't sit well with him. it implied that she didn't want to be here with him. It implied that he was a monster. He didn't like it and he clenched his jaw.

"You're not my prisoner." -He didn't sound convinced by what he was saying and she noticed.- "However, I don't see what's different between you staying here with me and being locked at King's Landing."

"Vaghar is the difference.  Caraxes is brave but he doesn't have the experience and the size of Vhagar. Aemond Targaryen respects his grandsire and if Otto Hightower wants me back to King's Landing, he would send his best soldier and his best dragon after you. You don't strike me as someone who has a death wish, Daemon."

"I am /not/ afraid to go to war, my lady. I have been to countless battles."

"In a time of peace....Far away from the battlefield with even players. We haven't seen dragons go after dragons for ages so don't pretend that you're not worried at the very least at the prospect of fighting a dragon rider." -She pinched her lips together, her tone was harsh and felt like a slap in his face.- 

He didn't like it when she pointed out exactly what he had been trying to hide from the rest of the world. Ceryse might have been going blind, she could see right through him as if she could read his very thoughts. The older man walked towards the young woman. He watched as she didn't flinch when he approached her, as if she was expecting this behavior from him. His fingers twitched and he outstretched his hand towards her, which made her tilt her head to the side, almost giving him access to her gracile neck. 

"Thread carefully, Lady of Driftmark."

"Or what? Or you will put me through your sword like you did my Sire?  -He squeezed not her neck but her jaw, holding onto her cheeks with as much strength as he could. He wanted to bruise her, to make her regret the venom that escaped her lips. He wanted to make her apologize for seeing him as he truly was rather than the man he portrayed for all to see. She snarled as his hand forced her mouth open but her hazel eyes were still staring at him with defiance. 

"What is it with Seafarers that makes them think they can address their king with such disrespect?"

"I am Ceryse Velaryon and I haven't been taught to back down regardless of my situation. I was taught that violence was the language of the weak. Are you weak, Daemon Targaryen? Are you so sensitive that my assessment hurt your feelings?" She dropped her arms on each side of her body, effectively demonstrating that she would not try to challenge his physical advantage over her. However, the judgment he could read on her face had the prince remove his hand and narrow his gaze. She was not afraid of him, not when he thought that she would ever compromise her honor for his petty games.  Daemon was a bully, he had always been, and even right now, even after all the filth he did to her and had her partake in, he was trying to bully her into submission. 

"...I might have... been a little too frustrated with the way you addressed me." -He was trying to deflect the topic and shift her focus to something else but he could see that she wasn't falling for his trick. Instead, as he removed hiçs fingers from her face, she put her own on her jaw to massage the bruised skin. "Perhaps... I do not want you to leave this place."

"Why? What good would that do to me? I need the sea. I need to be able to trust the people I live with and no matter what happens between the two of us, I hate you Daemon because you killed my father."

Her lips trembled and the Lady of Driftmark resumed brushing her hair.  Daemon intensely looked at her, searching for his next words. He could feel his chest heave up and down harder than before and his fingers clench and unclench as he didn't know what to do next. His body moved faster than his mind because he was on his knees. In the blink of an eye, he wrapped his arms around her frame and pulled her into a hug. He felt her body stiffen and her head lower so she could look at his face. Daemon didn't dare move to look at her face, instead, he focused on her collarbone. 

"Your father knew the risk when he disrespected the princess in front of the king. His death was justice to the crime he committed against the crown."

"I don't care. My father was my best friend. He had my best interest at heart and I miss him every single day. I miss him here, I miss him at King's Landing. You took something from me you will never be able to replace." *She said with venom in her mouth. Usually, Daemon would have waved at her words. He would not have felt the pang that crushed his heart. He simply wouldn't have cared if it was any other person, but Ceryse wasn't just any other person. He was confused because as much as he wanted to use her, to possess her, he also felt more for her. Daemon found himself unable to keep a straight mind whenever she was involved and he found himself clinging a little harder on her. 

"I'm not a monster, Ceryse. I'm not.." -He repeated, in an attempt to soothe himself rather than convince her. She remained stoic, eyes lost staring at the ceiling while the man who wrecked her heart was holding onto her.-

He played a cruel game with the Lady of Driftmark. He manipulated the young lady throughout her captivity. They grew closer to each other when she was at her most vulnerable, confused between hatred towards that man and appreciative of his hospitality.  Her lack of experience, her curiosity and her yearning for being touched with spoken desire were too appealing for her. He knew how to touch her, delicately so, excruciatingly slowly just so she could discover yearning for someone's touch. She gave in to him. It was a beautiful first time, one that led to many others where she felt good, powerful, and desired. She went into a frenzy of carnal desire and an intimacy that could have made the gods blush. Yet, at the same time, Ceryse was feeling filthy. She was having sex with the murderer of her father, someone who clearly hated her. She wanted to kill him, to cleanse herself, to ask for forgiveness for betraying her father. She grew resentful towards the Targaryen and yet, whenever he was kissing her, her legs gave up. Her heart beat faster. Her eyes shut tighter until he made them open wide so she could see him. It was a toxic relationship, something she ought to put an end to. It was an awful situation that broke her heart and made her feel disgusted for herself. 

Ceryse put her hand on his shoulder and slowly moved it to his neck. She stroked the hard skin of the Targaryen and looked at the ceiling to gather some strength. For the first time since their back and forth, Daemon was vulnerable and she felt that she could take advantage of it. The young Velaryon needed to escape and the way to do it was to convince Daemon to let her go. He didn't want /her/ to think of him as a monster, so if she played her hand well, he would take her back to King's Landing and she would not be under his influence and presence anymore.  She held his neck and pressed his head against her ample chest. He closed his eyes and held onto her tighter, almost crushing her lungs in the process. Good! That meant he was desperate for her approval, desperate for a positive word from her.

"Then set me free, Daemon. You say you're not a monster but for this to be true, you can't keep me prisoner here. I have to go back to King's Landing. We all have to play our part in this situation."

"Is getting married to Otto Hightower your part?"

"No. Surviving the war is. I have to survive as the last member of my immediate family. I struck a deal and I intend to honor my word. It mattered to my family! it mattered to my father! It matters to me! So...If you're not a monster as you claim, you have to let me go Daemon. Your fight isn't with me and I play no role in your quest for power." -She closed her eyes and whispered softly. "Let me go."

"Your loyalty is commendable, Ceryse, but your stubbornness is going to be the death of you."

"If there is a war..."

"when..."

"/IF/ there is a war, and the blacks win and I manage to survive, then I would be yours. I know you would execute those who lost the war, the traitors as you would surely call them. I know I would not be bound to Otto Hightower if he's dead." 

The silver-head was carefully choosing her words. She couldn't claim that she wanted to belong to him, no... It had to come across as a bargain, as a promise of her willful sacrifice for his desire. It had to be devoid of potential emotions so he wouldn't think that she was in love with him. Yet, she had to make him swallow the hard pill. She had to make sure that he would not become violent with her and decide to kill her on the spot. He could have. She had no doubt about it. He could have but he didn't. 

"Fine. I will take you back to the Red Keep. I would let you play your part as you said while I play mine. When the war breaks and I win it, you will belong to me, Ceryse. You will belong to me because I said so. Because I want to own you. I own you.." 

He grabbed her jaw again with his large hand, squeezing so hard that it elicited a groan from the Lady of Driftmark. She shot him a daring glare and put her hand against his, to try and push it away from her face. Daemon saw that as an opportunity to press his lips to hers and steal a kiss, while his free hand grabbed her breast and squeezed it roughly. She groaned again and squeezed the wrist of that hand. She struggled and pushed him off of her. he struggled with her and managed to overpower her. She managed to scratch his face, hard enough for him to groan and snarl and to have him release her jaw. 

He took a step back and lifted his hand, ready to strike her face before he dropped it. He just pleaded with her not to be seen as a monster and he almost hurt her. It didn't make any sense but since when did Daemon make sense? The Targaryen ran his hand through his hair, then his face, and noticed that she had scratched him to blood. Fuck! what did he do?  He walked away from her and looked up at the ceiling for a moment to gather his thoughts. She slowly found her composure and managed to resume brushing her hair.  he made up his mind. he would let her go. he had to.