Young Daemon burst through the empty, dimly lit corridors, his firm, determined steps breaking the silence that engulfed the Red Keep. The voices of his father and grandfather, the old King Jaehaerys, echoed in his ears with a flat sound that he did not like at all. You had barely come of age and they were already thinking of marrying you. You, his younger sister. And it would not be to him, but to your brother Viserys as tradition demanded.

It was an unfair reality that his older brother would get the upper hand while he would probably be forced to marry some lady of common blood. A prince like him, a dragonrider, could hardly refuse such an arrangement willingly. And a wife... He did not want one. At least not one who would come into his life for power or political gain. A low growl of indignation formed in his throat as he continued walking towards his chambers. This was a night to reassert his claim on you. Even though he had never dishonored you, Daemon had always known that you were meant to be his.

His mind wandered as he reached his destination, carefully opening the door, finding your slender figure with her back to him as she prepared for bed. He could already picture you staring up at him, your eyes so full of sparkle and mischief. You had an aura of rebellion that he liked, a defiant air that made you different. You were like him, even if you hid it beneath a cloak of righteousness and innocence.

Daemon approached silently, standing behind you. When he was close, he pressed his body against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist as he inhaled deeply of your familiar scent.

“Marry me,” he said simply, his voice a deep, husky rumble. Tradition required a brother to marry his sister to keep the bloodline pure; Daemon doubted age really mattered. After all, he was far more worthy than Viserys.