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Sea of Fire
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AELINA WISHED THE JOURNEY TO HER CHAMBERS WAS SILENT, BUT SHE KNEW HER BROTHER TOO WELL. He was itching to criticise her, so silence was out of the question.

"Why do you test me, Aelina?" Vaelor's voice cut through the silence mere minutes after they had left the throne room. The image of Laenor clutching onto his now faceless lover burned into her memory.

"It was only a dance," she protested softly, not meeting Vaelor's gaze as he carried her through the corridors.

"After the rumours that have echoed around King's Landing for the past two months?" His voice held a sharp edge. "Or have you conveniently forgotten what they've said about you and the Prince?"

"I didn't do anything," she countered, her tone defensive. "They're just that—rumours."

"But you encourage them with your behaviour, Aelina," he sighed, the weight of responsibility lacing his words. "I cannot defend you if you won't defend yourself."

"I only danced with him," she huffed, her annoyance clear now. "It's not like we did anything."

"You might as well have, with the way you looked at each other." Bitterness crept into Vaelor's voice, his protective nature rearing its head.

She scoffed, frustration bubbling up. If she were walking on her own two feet, she might have stopped in her tracks. "Why do you hate him so much, Vaelor? What did Daemon do that's so awful that everyone despises him?"

"Aelina." Vaelor's voice softened. "He's a prince, and you're a bastard."

"As everyone keeps reminding me," she muttered under her breath, her resentment clear.

Vaelor sighed heavily, his expression hardening. "I keep telling you—Daemon is dangerous. He only cares about you for as long as you're useful to him. Sooner or later, he'll tire of you and find someone else to amuse himself with. He doesn't care for you, Aelina."

Her voice sharpened with bitterness. "What, like the lord you plan to marry me off to will?"

Vaelor paused, his steps faltering as he stared at her with something close to pity. "Aelina—"

"You know it's true," she cut him off, her voice thick with resentment. "I've always been a problem, haven't I? A problem for father when I was born. A problem for Corlys after he died—that's why he sent me away. Now I'm a problem for Viserys, and for you."

"That's not what I meant, Lina," Vaelor's voice softened, but the burden of duty remained heavy in his tone. "There's more at stake here than just your feelings."

Vaelor exhaled slowly, searching for the right words. "You think this is about me controlling your life, but it's not. You're a bastard, Aelina, and not just any bastard—you're Aelina Waters. Getting too close to Daemon Targaryen threatens the very fabric that holds this kingdom together. If you weren't born a bastard, things would be different. You'd be a Velaryon, and your ties to Daemon wouldn't be as scandalous. But you are a bastard, and the court will always use that against you."

Aelina wanted to argue, but she bit her tongue, letting him continue.

"If you were a true Velaryon, none of this would matter," he went on. "But as a bastard, you're vulnerable, easy prey for court intrigue. Daemon is exactly the type of man they need to justify all their suspicions. They'll never see you as one of us, not truly. They'll always see someone trying to climb higher than her station—using a dangerous man like Daemon to get there."

Aelina's face tightened as the words stung, but she forced herself to stay silent, to let the truth sink in.

"If Daemon cared for you," Vaelor said quietly, "he wouldn't put you in this position. He's reckless. He doesn't care about rules, but the rest of Westeros does. Viserys does. The lords of the realm do. They'll see you as a threat—a bastard reaching for power that isn't hers."

"Daemon asked Viserys to legitimise me," Aelina whispered, her voice trembling with defiance. "He sees me as more than that."

Vaelor's expression darkened. "Daemon sees you as a piece in his game, just like everyone else. He might say he wants you legitimised, but do you really think it's for your sake? Or is it just another move in his endless schemes? And when he grows bored of you, Aelina—when you're no longer useful—he'll leave you with nothing. You'll still be a bastard in their eyes."

Aelina clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to shout at him, to deny it all, but deep down, she feared there was truth in his words.

"And what about Corlys?" Vaelor added. "Do you think he'd stand by and watch as you marry Daemon without his blessing? You already think Corlys resents you—what do you think will happen if you wed Daemon amidst scandal?"

Her heart ached as she listened to her brother, every word pulling her further into the harsh reality of her situation.

"You're not just marrying Daemon if you go through with this," Vaelor pressed. "You're marrying his chaos. And the court will rip you apart."

Aelina let out a shaky breath. "You really think marrying me off to some lord will make it all go away?"

"No," Vaelor admitted, his tone softer. "But it will protect you. A suitable match will shield you from the worst of the whispers. It will give you stability."

His gaze softened further as he looked at her. "I'm doing this because I care, Lina. I want to keep you safe."

Aelina stared at him, her heart heavy with frustration. She knew, deep down, he wasn't wrong. But the idea of being sold off to a man she didn't care for made her stomach twist.

"I don't want to be a pawn," she whispered, her voice barely holding back tears.

"You're not a pawn," Vaelor replied gently as they reached her chambers. "You're my sister. And I'm trying to make sure you don't end up as one."

She didn't reply and instead remained silent as Vaelor walked towards her bed and gently set her down. "I'll request one of the maids to come and help you change."

"No it's okay." She shook her head. "I can do it myself, brother."

"Aelina—" He protested.

"I'm not helpless, Vaelor." She huffed.

He pressed his lips into a thin line but didn't protest against her further. "I don't suppose the rest of the seven days will go ahead now." He said through a frown. "But I may have a few potential suitors..." Aelina didn't reply and slowly nodded. "We'll go through them after the Maester inspects your ankle in the morning."

Aelina sighed as Vaelor left without saying another word, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving her alone in the stillness of her chambers. Her ankle throbbed dully beneath the weight of her thoughts, the pain a constant reminder of the chaos from earlier. She carefully shifted her leg, wincing as she tried to find a more comfortable position. The evening's events felt like a blur, and yet Daemon's piercing gaze haunted her, lingering in her mind long after the dance had ended.

She bit her lip thinking over her brothers words and wondered if any of this would have ended better for her if she had just said no, maybe if she did her ankle wouldn't be throbbing and her brother wouldn't have been scolding her like a child.

She lay in silence for what felt like hours, the only sound in her chambers the soft crackling and popping of the fire. She wasn't exactly tired, not after the events at the 'celebrations'. At one point her eyes flickered to the shadows cast by the dim glow of the fire. She'd wanted to forget it all, to be alone with her thoughts. But when a soft rustling caught her attention, her breath stilled. The faintest creak echoed from behind the tapestry near the far wall—the one covering the old passageway she had found a few hours after Daemon snuck into her chambers two months ago and she cursed herself for not locking it or pushing something heavy up against it sooner.

Her heart raced as the rustling continued, there was no use in her grabbing her dagger, she'd never win in a fight when she couldn't even stand, plus she knew exactly who was on the other side of the secret door.

The tapestry shifted, and from the shadows a figure emerged, slipping into her chambers like he had done before and she watched him with a racing heart as he stepped forward, the firelight flickering across his silver hair, casting sharp shadows along he curve of his smirking lips. His violet eyes shone, but this time they weren't filled with their usual mockery. Something else lingered there—something more intense.

"You shouldn't leave doors unlocked, little dragon," he said smoothly, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying a teasing edge as he approached.

Aelina's pulse quickened as he stepped closer towards her, her throat tightening as she tried to force a steady breath. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice lower than she'd intended, but the question was more out of curiosity than anything else.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to her injured ankle before settling back on her. "I let your brother take you back," he said, his voice calm but sharp as always. "But that doesn't mean I'm done watching over you."

Aelina swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly on the bed. She hadn't expected him to come after her, not like this. "I didn't realise I required watching," she replied, trying to regain some control of the conversation.

Daemon's smirk flickered, but his eyes remained focused on her ankle. "You don't," he said with a nonchalant shrug, though his gaze lingered on her injury. "But I don't trust your brother to know when to leave well enough alone."

Aelina snorted, her lips curving into a small, defiant smile. "Concerned about me or about outsmarting Vaelor?"

He gave her a look, half-amused, half-challenging. "Why not both?"

She shook her head, trying to suppress the small flutter in her chest. "Well, I'm fine, as you can see." She gestured to her ankle that looked anything but okay, it was swollen and she had propped it up on a pillow. "No need for the prince to concern himself." She kept her tone light.

Daemon's expression softened ever so slightly, but there was a glint of frustration in his eyes as he met her gaze. "You ran away from me, Lina. Why?"

Aelina opened her mouth to respond, but the intensity in his voice caught her off guard. For all his teasing, there was a seriousness beneath it—a rare moment of vulnerability. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I didn't run," she whispered, glancing away. "I left because... it was too much. The stares, the whispers. Vaelor's anger. Everything."

Daemon's jaw tightened slightly, but he said nothing for a moment, watching her closely. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more measured. "You've lived with whispers your entire life, little dragon. Why let them bother you now?"

Her breath hitched at the question. "Because this—you, us—will only make them worse."

His smirk returned, though it was softer, laced with something deeper. He moved closer, fingers brushing her ankle lightly as he inspected it. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and Aelina tilted her head, caught off guard by this side of him. "Let them talk," he murmured. "Their whispers mean nothing, not when you know who you are."

Aelina's heart fluttered again, but she clenched her fists, determined to stay grounded. "It's not that simple for me, Daemon. You're a prince. You can do as you please. But me? I'll always be the Tideborn bastard. The Silver Stainedoutsider."

Daemon's violet eyes flared with something fiercer—defiance. He leaned in closer, his voice low and deliberate. "Then let them call you a bastard. Let them think they can define you. But they can't. And if they try, burn their world to ash."

Aelina blinked, surprised by the heat in his words. She had always fought to stay in the shadows, to avoid the flames of courtly scandal because it was that or burn. But with Daemon, everything felt different. His confidence, his defiance—it was intoxicating.

"You think it's that easy?" she whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

"It can be," Daemon replied, his smirk returning as he straightened up, his fingers brushing against her ankle once more. "If you stop running."

She huffed slightly, eyeing her leg. "Well I can't exactly run at the moment, can I?" Her lip twitched into a small smile.

Daemon chuckled, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Then I suppose there's nothing stopping us now, is there?"

She swallowed hard at what he seemed to be implying as she shivered. "Daemon..." She whispered, watching him carefully, his hand lingering by her ankle slowly slid up her leg, his touch a mix between gentle and possessive. Aelina's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening as his fingers traced a path along her calf, then her knee, then higher. Her skin burned where he touched her, as though he had lit a fire beneath her flesh. "Daemon..." She warned but her voice fell short in it's whisper.

He tilted his head, watching her closely, that ever-present smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it, little Lina?" he asked, his voice teasing, yet laced with something darker, something hungrier.

She swallowed hard at how he looked at her. Her mind raced with her thoughts like the sea, crashing over one another like waves. Every rational part of her mind screamed at her to stop this, to say no and pull away before things went too far. But then... hadn't things already gone too far? She had known him for such little time and ever since she had been fighting the pull between them, the undeniable attraction that simmered just beneath the surface. She had resisted it, tried to bury it, but now, with Daemon's hand on her leg and his gaze searing into her, she realised she didn't want to run anymore.

She wanted to burn.

Her eyes flickered down to his hand, tracing patterns on her thigh, he didn't dare raise it further not yet, before rising to meet his. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt charged, thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension that had been simmering between them was snapping.

Aelina's lips parted, her breath shallow as she tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't sound like a surrender or something timid. She wanted this, wanted him, and for once in her life, she didn't want to be told what to do or how to act.

Her voice was low, steady, as she spoke, the edge of a challenge in her tone. "I'm not asking you to stop, Daemon," she said softly, but firmly. "I just want to know if you can handle what happens when you finally get what you've been chasing."

His hand stilled for a fraction of a second, resting on her thigh, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, his smirk faltering into something more serious. Aelina's heart pounded as the weight of her words settled between them. There was no court watching, making sure she was being a good little bastard and keeping her place which meant there was also no hesitation in her now, no uncertainty. She wasn't afraid of where this would lead anymore.

Daemon's smile returned, but this time, it was sharper, more dangerous. "Is that so?" he murmured, his hand sliding higher, just beneath the hem of her dress. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge, little dragon."

Aelina leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Then stop teasing and show me."

For a moment, Daemon said nothing and Aelina's heart raced and then without any warning he moved. In an instant, one hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her towards him while the other gripped her thigh as his lips crashed against hers.

The kiss was fierce, demanding, and Aelina felt as though she had been pushed into a a fire. His mouth was hot against hers, his hands firm as they held her in place, leaving no room for hesitation, no room for any doubt. She responded instinctively, her own hands gripping him, pulling him closer, wanting more, needing more.

He kissed her like a man claiming what was his, and as her body pressed against his, she realised that in this moment, she was his. Completely. Utterly his, at least until her brother found her a suitable husband.

Apparently one that was not Daemon Targaryen.

The thought quickly left her mind as quickly as it came as his hand on the back of her neck tangled in her hair, his other moving up and gripping her waist, digging into her soft flesh and she let out a soft gasp as his lips left hers to trail along her jawline, down her neck. She felt like she was burning, every inch of her skin tingling with anticipation.

"Daemon..." she whispered again, her voice breathless, and this time, there was no hesitation in her voice, no resistance. She wanted this. She wanted him.

"I've waited for this," he murmured against her skin, his breath hot against her collarbone. "You have no idea how much I wanted you that night, Aelina." He murmured against her skin. Her breath hitched, knowing just what he meant. "It took everything in me to leave you alone." He practically growled against her.

Aelina shivered at his words, at the heat in his voice, and she felt herself sinking deeper into the fire that blazed between them. It was overwhelming, consuming, and yet she didn't want it to stop. She wanted to be consumed.

His hands held her shoulders and he pulled her to sit upright before he found the laces of her gown, and she felt the fabric loosen as his fingers grazed her skin, felt the cool air against her as he began pull it down, along with her undergarments. She wanted to roll her eyes because no man who she could only guess never took his wife to bed should be that experienced with taking a woman's clothes off. She could only imagine how many whores he had bedded and suddenly for a moment she wondered what that made her.

She should have felt vulnerable and exposed when she was finally bare to him, her gown a mere pool at her waist, but instead, there was something exhilarating in it, something freeing. No one else had ever seen her like this and for now she was his now, and there was no turning back.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, his lips following, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. And then, just as she thought she might be lost entirely to the heat, he paused, pulling back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire.

"Are you sure, little dragon?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "There's no going back from this."

She met his gaze, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. But there was no hesitation in her this time. "I don't want it to be some fat old lord"she whispered.

With a smirk, Daemon captured her lips again, but this time, there was something different in the way he kissed her—his tongue feels warm against hers and she can taste the wine he'd been drinking throughout the night on it while his hands moved with purpose, pulling her closer, towards the edge of the bed before removing her dress entirely, lifting her as though she weighed nothing as he did so and she was thankful he remembered her hurting ankle as he suddenly took care when lifting her leg. He then lifted her up in his arms and moved her, something she was thankful about because her foot still throbbed and she probably wouldn't have been able to move very well on her own. It felt unusual to have so much desire inside and yet her ankle held pain.

The world spun as he laid her back against the bed, further into the middle this time before he climbed on top of it and then her, straddling her with his body pressing against hers. His weight was comforting, grounding her in the storm of sensation that threatened to sweep her away. His fingers traced the curves of her body, his lips following, leaving no part of her untouched.

And then, as his hands slid lower, she felt the heat between her legs grow, a tension building there that made her gasp. Her body trembled beneath his touch, and she felt herself falling, deeper and deeper into the fire.

She pulled him to her and pulled at his clothes as his hands gripped her hips tightly and she wondered just how tight he'd have to hold her to leave bruises as she pulls at his clothes, it's a weak effort with how drunken she felt as he kissed her and she doesn't remember when or how but they eventually somehow get his clothes off him

Her breath catching in her throat as his hand slid between her thighs, his fingers teasing, exploring. She felt like she was in the narrow sea, drowning, like she was caught in one of it's storms, the waves crashing over her again and again. But she didn't want to fight it. She wanted to be swept away, to lose herself in him.

He kissed her again, and this time, it was slower, deeper, more deliberate. His hands moved with the same purpose, his fingers slipping inside her, and Aelina let out a soft cry, her body arching beneath his touch.

"Daemon..." she gasped, her fingers gripping his arms, her nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built, as the fire inside her grew hotter, brighter.

He smirked against her neck, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "You'll burn for me, little dragon."

And she did.

She burned as his touch grew more insistent, as his fingers moved faster, as the fire inside her blazed out of control. She felt like she was falling, like she was being consumed by the flames, but she didn't care. She wanted more. She needed more.

With a groan, Daemon shifted, his body pressing against hers, and she felt him, pressing against her. Her heart raced, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through her, but she didn't hesitate. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer because she was right with what she said earlier, she didn't want it to be some fat old lord.

"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Daemon smirked, his lips brushing hers as he whispered back, "You'll never be rid of me, little dragon."

And then , with one swift movement he entered her, and Aelina's world exploded into flames, his flames.

The pain was sharp at first, her body stretching to accommodate, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper sensation—a heat, a pleasure that she had never known before. Daemon moved slowly at first, his movements controlled, almost reverent as he gave her time to adjust, to find her rhythm.

But soon, the fire took over, and the pace quickened. His thrusts became harder, faster, and Aelina felt herself falling into the rhythm of it, her body meeting his with equal fervour. The fire inside her grew, hotter and hotter, until it felt like she was burning alive.

"You feel that?" Daemon growled, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "That's what it feels like to be alive, Aelina."

Aelina could only moan in response, the sound muffled by his mouth on hers, her fingers digging into his back as the pleasure overwhelmed her, as the waves like a sea crashed over her again and again. She felt like she was drowning, like she was being pulled under by the tide, but she didn't care. She wanted to be consumed by the storm, to lose herself in his fire and the sea.

And then, with one final thrust, the storm shattered her. Daemon pressed his hand to her mouth, muffling the scream of his name as it slipped from her lips, her body trembling with the force of her release. She felt the waves crash over her, pulling her under, and for a moment, she was lost.

But as the fire slowly began to fade and the waves receded, Daemon's arms were around her, holding her.

They lay there, tangled together, and she didn't dare say a word. What could you say to the man who was rumoured to have bedded you, only to now do exactly that, when you were meant to remain 'unspoiled' until wed?

He said nothing as he climbed off her, leaving Aelina lying still, her body trembling from the intensity of what they had just shared. The room was eerily quiet, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts. For a brief moment, Aelina wondered if this was it—if he would leave now that he had taken what he wanted. Rhaenyra's warnings echoed in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if he had ruined her in the way he couldn't ruin Rhaenyra, bound as she was to the crown. She knew his reputation—that he never lingered after bedding a woman. Would she be any different?

The idea made her chest tighten, but she swallowed it down. She wouldn't regret this, even if he walked away. She'd rather it be him than the husband her brother would eventually force her to marry.

But he didn't leave.

Instead, Daemon remained beside her, his breathing still uneven, his hand resting casually on the sheet between them. The silence stretched out, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt as though neither of them knew quite what to say—or perhaps didn't want to say anything at all.

After a long silence, filled with only their breaths, she whispered, "What happened?"

Daemon frowned at first, confused by her question as he turned his head to meet her gaze. But understanding flickered in his eyes when she added, "After I left?"

A smirk curled at his lips. "It wasn't anything worth talking about," he drawled lazily, his fingers still brushing her ankle absentmindedly. "Viserys cancelled the rest of the celebrations to rush the wedding along. Bit of a mess, really—blood on the floor does tend to ruin the mood." His smirk twisted with dark amusement. "At least my wedding didn't end with a lover's corpse in the hall."

Aelina chuckled softly, though her smile quickly faded. The canceled celebrations meant Vaelor wouldn't waste time in finding her a husband. And with her current condition, she felt more vulnerable than ever. The weight of it all pressed on her, and Daemon, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in her expression.

"Your brother's plans to sell you off to the highest bidder," Daemon muttered, his tone darkening. "I could take you to Dragonstone instead. We'd be gone before anyone could stop us."

As tempting as the thought was, Aelina shook her head. "Running away wouldn't solve anything. Vaelor would come after me, and you know it. He won't let this end without bloodshed."

Daemon's smirk faltered slightly, a flicker of something darker passing through his eyes. "Let him come," he murmured, though the arrogance in his tone didn't entirely mask the underlying tension. "I'm not afraid of your brother."

Aelina let out a soft sigh, resting her head back against the pillow. "It's not just him," she whispered, her voice heavy with the weight of everything. "The court... the whispers... everything will get worse."

Daemon tilted his head, watching her carefully. "It's always been like that, Aelina. What difference does it make now?"

"Because this time... for once—they'll be right about me," she murmured, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Daemon's gaze darkened, his expression hardening. For a moment, she thought he might challenge her again, but instead, he sat upright.

Just then, her ankle throbbed dully as the sheets shifted, a reminder of the injury she'd sustained earlier that night. She shifted slightly, trying to ease the discomfort, but winced as sharp pain shot up her leg. Daemon noticed immediately, his sharp eyes flicking to her face.

"Your ankle?" he asked, his tone gruff, though his concern was unmistakable.

Aelina hesitated, then nodded. "It's fine," she lied, though her wince had already given her away.

Daemon's smirk returned, though there was something different about it—less mocking, more calculating. "You're a terrible liar, Aelina." He shifted closer, moving the sheets to reveal her leg to him, his hand brushing over her leg in a way that sent heat coursing through her again, though this time his touch was less intimate and more purposeful. His fingers traced the outline of her swollen ankle, his movements gentle but focused.

"You shouldn't have been left like this," he muttered, almost as an afterthought, his tone laced with irritation, though it wasn't directed at her. "I should've dealt with your brother and brought you back myself."

Aelina snorted softly, despite the pain. "You'd have killed each other before you got me back to my chambers."

Daemon's smirk deepened, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Perhaps." His thumb brushed lightly over her ankle again, his touch firm but careful. "You need the Maester's attention on this before it gets worse. You're no use to anyone if you can't walk."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes, though her lips twitched into a small smile. "Is the notorious Prince Daemon Targaryen concerned for my well-being?"

He shrugged, his gaze flicking briefly to meet hers. "I prefer you whole, not limping around like a wounded animal." His words were blunt, but she could see through them. There was concern there—buried beneath his usual arrogance, but present nonetheless.

Aelina's breath hitched as Daemon's fingers continued to lightly massage the area around her ankle. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a contrast to his usual roughness, and the tenderness of the moment caught her off guard. Daemon wasn't one to fuss, but his unwavering attention and the way his fingers lingered on her skin spoke volumes—more than he would ever admit aloud.

After a moment, she let out a small breath. "Thank you," she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

Daemon's eyes met hers, and for a fleeting second, something unspoken passed between them. His hand lingered on her leg, fingers tracing idle circles on her skin.

"Rest now, Lina," he murmured, his voice low but resolute.

He didn't move to leave, nor did he say anything more. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but thick with the weight of everything unsaid, simmering just beneath the surface. Without another word, she closed her eyes, letting herself sink deeper into the sheets. His presence, warm and steady beside her, wrapped around her like a quiet comfort as sleep gently claimed her.

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I can't believe I wrote that... I also can't believe I decided to do three uploads in one day. God help me. Oh and @-bellerose- thank you for being the first to read the hell I came up with... I edited a LOT before you even saw it...