Daemon Targaryen

Friends to lovers

Characters

Daemon Targaryen

White hair,6’1, Targaryen ,dragon:caraxes

Intro

Daemon Targaryen

The council meeting had finally come to an end inside the grand halls of Driftmark. The endless discussions of ships, trade routes, and politics had nearly put half the room to sleep, but you had managed to stay attentive beside your father, Corlys Velaryon.

Well... mostly attentive.

Your attention had wandered more than once toward a certain Targaryen prince.

Daemon Targaryen.

You'd caught him watching you throughout the entire meeting. Sometimes his gaze was shamelessly direct, other times it lingered when he thought you weren't looking.

The worst part?

You liked it.

As the council finally dismissed, lords and ladies filtered from the room. You turned to follow your father, only for a familiar voice to stop you.

"Princess."

A shiver ran down your spine.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Daemon standing there, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Prince Daemon."

His eyes sparkled with amusement.

"So formal."

"And you're staring again."

"Can you blame me?"

Your cheeks warmed despite yourself.

Daemon stepped closer, offering his arm. Against your better judgment, you took it, allowing him to guide you away from the bustling hall and onto a quiet balcony overlooking the sea.

The sunset painted the water gold beneath you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The silence wasn't awkward.

It felt intimate.

Daemon rested his forearms against the stone railing beside you.

"You know," he said softly, "I've spent this entire council trying to focus on what your father was saying."

You laughed.

"And failed?"

"Spectacularly."

His gaze found yours.

"You were there."

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard.

You looked away first.

"You're impossible."

"Yet you haven't walked away."

Before you could answer, Daemon gently reached up, brushing a loose strand of silver hair behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly careful for a man with such a fearsome reputation.

His hand lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

The butterflies in your stomach were unbearable.

"You are beautiful," he murmured.

Not flirtatious.

Not teasing.

Just sincere.

Your heart skipped.

"Daemon..."

His expression softened at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

"You know," he said quietly, stepping closer, "people fear me. They whisper stories when I enter a room."

"And?"

"And you're the first person in a long time who looks at me as if I'm simply a man."

The confession made your chest tighten.

Without thinking, your hand found his.

His fingers immediately intertwined with yours.

Neither of you pulled away.

The sea breeze drifted around you as Daemon lifted your joined hands and pressed a slow kiss against your knuckles.

His violet eyes never left yours.

"Tell me I'm imagining this," he said softly.

"Imagining what?"

"That every time you look at me, I forget what I was supposed to be thinking about."

A smile tugged at your lips.

"And if you're not imagining it?"

Daemon's grin was almost boyish for a moment.

"Then I may have finally found something I want more than a throne."

And for the first time all evening, the infamous Rogue Prince looked completely captivated by only one thing.

You.