Author's Note: Oh my goodness, an early update from me?? How crazy! I never update early. The world must be ending. I know it's only a day, but still, it's a day early! For someone reason, it was super easy to write. I don't know what that says about me, but I want to thank y'all sooooo much for constantly supporting me. When I started this fic, I thought nobody would read it and that those who did would hate bomb me. Everyone who commented has been super nice to me, and I honestly can't thank you enough. I do want to warn you, though, that there will be a chapter in the distant future where were discuss Aegon's not-so-consensual activities. That's all I'm going to say about that. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a steamy one toward the end. ;)
Chapter Warnings: Time jump, Somnophilia
Prince Daemon opened the door to Madam's brothel like a dark cloud, slowly traveling with the threat of a storm, Dark Sister tapping the frame. Rage was his presence as he entered, though his outward appearance seemed as if he was unbothered. He was on a mission, and he had only one question.
"Where is she?" He asked the first woman he saw, a client on her arm. She smiled at him sweetly.
"Give me one moment Ser, so I can escort this handsome patron out, and I will be right with you." She buttered the man up, her words a purr in his ear as she stroked his cheek.
Daemon rolled his eyes, taking three long strides to the girl and grabbing her by the arm. "You will listen to me and listen well. Forget this fool." She whimpered, letting go of the man's arm as she went to shield her face.
"I am Prince Daemon Targaryen, the man who created the very Gold Cloaks that will burn this establishment to the ground should I snap my fingers." She nodded, eyes teary and lips quivering. The girl was confused and caught unaware by the Prince's presence. He had not been here in quite some time, ever the loyal husband to Princess Rhaenyra.
"Where is Madam?" He seethed through gritted teeth at her prolonged silence. The whore took a shaking breath, hesitating momentarily as she glanced at Dark Sister, deciding the truth would be better than Valyrian steel through her stomach.
She leads Daemon to a back room, hidden and out of the way so no simple-minded customers could mistakenly enter. A small fire was lit, and a cast iron cauldron hung over it as Madam stood hunched, her shoulders shaking.
"Madam," the girl spoke softly, and she straightened her posture, wiping at her face as she turned to scold the worker, but stopped short, seeing a former star patron.
"Prince Daemon," she curtsied, sniffling to clear her nose, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" Madam knew she was playing a dangerous game.
"You know exactly why I am here," he replied firmly. Madam tilted her head at her worker, silently telling her working girl to leave.
"I am not sure I do. You know better than anyone that there is no need to come directly to me in order to schedule a session," she said dismissively.
Of course, Madam knew precisely why he was here. It was the exact reason why she was crying.
"Do not play dumb, Babette. Where is Elaina?" He asked, losing patience.
"I already told you this many years ago when you first asked. My answer has not changed. She went back home to the North." Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes again as he stepped closer.
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His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Hayran KurguBeing a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targ...