Whispers Through Time: {~Shadows Of Suspicion~}

Hi! Could I request this for Daemon? I've been really interested in the whole haunting for Damon

in the latest season and just wanted charmed and thought Daemon might come across the spirit of his late ex-lover at Harrenhal. She was Otto's eldest daughter who passed away before they could wed. There's a chance that Otto mistakenly poisoned her instead of Daemon, in an attempt to stop their marriage. She confides in Daemon about the specifics of her death, and he finds closure by being able to embrace her, kiss her, and be intimate with her. Alys Rivers was someone she adored and cared for, perhaps as a motherly figure. Alys might continue to trigger visions of his former lover in Daemon, but not with harmful intentions; it could be rooted in her affection for her maternal figure. This could serve as the first part of a two-part series, and the suspenseful conclusion could be Alys' revelation that she intends to bring her back to life, potentially leading to Damon's unexpected shift in allegiance in the series 😏💚❤️‍🔥

{~Shadows of Harrenhal~}

A/N: First of all I just want to say thank you for requesting this!!! I am sooo sorry that it took me to song for me to write this for you! I really hope you enjoy this and I'm really sorry if it's not entirely what you wanted but I tried! 😭

Summary: Daemon Targaryen encounters the spirit of his lost love, Otto Hightower’s eldest daughter, who died before they could wed. Alys Rivers offers Daemon a way to bring her back, binding their souls but at a high cost. As he’s consumed by their supernatural connection, Daemon faces a painful choice: keep her and lose himself, or release her and find peace.

Characters: Daemon & Alys

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some Angst

Word Count: 1983

Tag List: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Part 1 ---

Daemon Targaryen never considered himself a man bound by ghosts. He took what he wanted, feared little, and answered to no one. But there was one shadow that followed him, one face that haunted his dreams in the depths of the night—a woman he loved fiercely, his intended bride, taken from him before they could wed. She was Otto Hightower’s eldest daughter, his love, his match, and a memory that clawed at his heart like iron scraping bone.

And now, they say, she wanders Harrenhal.

The torches cast jagged shadows across the cracked walls as Daemon strode through the desolate corridors of the ancient castle. Alys Rivers, dark-eyed and silent, led the way, her steps so light she seemed to glide. Daemon had come here on a whim, drawn by rumors of Alys’s talents. They spoke of her sight, her ability to reach beyond the veil, of a power that could evoke spirits, and conjure memories from the other side. Daemon had scoffed at such tales, but here he was, heart pounding with a hope he would not admit, even to himself.

They reached an old, nearly forgotten hall where the light seemed thinner, barely touching the cold stone. Alys turned to face him, her expression unreadable. “She is near,” she murmured.

Daemon’s throat tightened. “Bring her to me, then.”

Alys did not respond immediately; instead, she stepped back, her dark eyes meeting him with an expression that seemed both compassionate and haunting. With a few whispered words that faded into the stillness, she raised her hands, her fingers moving through the air as though drawing open a curtain unseen.

And then, Daemon felt it—a stirring, a ripple in the atmosphere. The air grew colder, tingling with a sensation he couldn’t quite place as if something forgotten was being called to life once more.

Then he saw her.

She stood in the shadows, her form translucent yet unmistakable. She looked exactly as he remembered—elegant and poised, with a softness that made his heart twist with longing. Her eyes, deep and expressive, locked onto his, and he took a step closer, not daring to blink, terrified she might vanish like all the memories he’d clung to for so long.

“Daemon,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that cut through the chill around them.

His breath left him in a shudder. “Gods… I thought I’d lost you forever.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, filled with a rawness he’d never shown to another soul.

She smiled, though it was a sad, broken thing. “You did lose me, Daemon. And not by fate or sickness, but by the hand of my blood.” Her voice trembled, anger mingling with sorrow. “I did not die by chance. My father took me from you.”

Daemon’s expression hardened. He had suspected Otto’s hand in her untimely death, but hearing it from her lips was a dagger to his heart. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded, his voice rough, desperate.

She paused, looking down at her hands, then back at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “He planned to poison you, Daemon. To ensure I would never stand beside you as your wife, to keep our marriage from bringing you closer to the throne. But he miscalculated…” Her voice broke, and she looked away, pain flickering across her face. “The cup he brought me that night was meant for you. I drank it, thinking it a gesture of his blessing, of forgiveness. And as I lay there, gasping, as I felt the life draining from my body… he looked at me with horror.”

Daemon’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as rage surged within him. “He killed you to stop me. That insufferable snake took you from me.”

She nodded, her form flickering faintly in the cold light. “In his eyes, I was a casualty… a necessary one to prevent what he feared most.” Her voice softened, eyes searching his face. “I only wish I could have said goodbye.”

They were silent for a moment, the weight of her words heavy in the air. Daemon’s gaze softened as he took a step closer to her, his hand reaching out, though he stopped just short of touching her. “I would have burned the realm to keep you safe,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I would have done anything.”

She stepped closer, her presence faint but solid enough that he could feel a sliver of warmth, a remnant of the life they had once hoped to share. “And I would have walked through fire for you,” she replied, a fierce glimmer in her eyes. “I would have given up anything to be by your side, Daemon.”

He reached out again, his fingers trembling, unsure if he would feel her touch or if his hand would pass through. To his surprise, he felt her—a chill against his skin, yet grounding, familiar. Her hands found his, delicate and weightless.

They stood in silence, foreheads touching, a thousand unspoken words exchanged in that moment. The years melted away, and for a fleeting heartbeat, it felt as if they were the same two souls they had once been—wild, passionate, and bound by a love that defied the very gods.

Daemon’s hand moved up, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin as if memorizing her once more. “I swore you’d be mine,” he whispered, voice trembling with both rage and longing. “And now… I don’t know how to let you go again.”

She placed a ghostly hand over his heart, her touch soft but resonant. “You don’t have to,” she whispered, leaning in until her lips met his.

The kiss was electric, a union of fire and ice. His heart thundered as he held her, feeling her presence consume him, grounding him as if she were still alive, warm, and vibrant. Time slowed

each kiss, each caress an echo of the life they’d never had the chance to share. His arms tightened around her as if holding her would anchor her to him, to the world of the living.

When their kiss finally broke, she looked at him, full of sorrow and love. “Daemon,” she whispered, “you must let me rest. But promise me… promise me you will never let him win. Do not let my death be in vain.”

He nodded, his jaw set with grim determination. “I’ll avenge you and make him pay for what he took from us.”

Daemon’s hand slipped from hers as her form began to wane, her eyes glistening with the silent plea she had left him with: Do not let my death be in vain. He watched helplessly as her spirit faded, leaving behind an unbearable emptiness that seemed to deepen the shadows of Harrenhal.

Before the silence could swallow him whole, Alys Rivers stepped closer, her gaze steady and enigmatic. She observed him with the measured patience of one who’d seen such grief many times before, her expression a strange blend of compassion and steel. She placed a hand on his arm, drawing his attention to her, breaking the spell of despair that had settled over him.

“You truly loved her,” Alys said softly, a question and a statement all at once.

Daemon’s eyes blazed as he turned to her. “She was everything.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, stripped bare of his usual pride. “But that is why I will never forgive that serpent, her father. I would see the world burn to have her back.”

Alys gave a slow, deliberate nod, seeming to weigh his words. She stepped around him, the hem of her dark gown whispering over the cold stone. “I can bring her back,” she murmured, each word a tantalizing promise that hung in the air. Her gaze held his, unflinching. “But such magic is costly, Daemon Targaryen. Some forces bind the dead to the afterlife, threads that, once severed, cannot be mended without consequence.”

Daemon’s fists clenched as he took in her words, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Name the price.”

She studied him for a long moment, and Daemon could feel her searching, reaching into the parts of him that he kept hidden. “You would risk your very soul, your bloodline… even your crown, to bring her back. Once life is restored, it can’t be undone again. She will come back to the world of the living, but such magic leaves scars.” Her voice softened. “And the price would not only be yours to bear. Those who defy death are never left unmarked.”

Daemon let her words sink in, the fire in him dimming with a slow, mounting horror. He could bring her back, but at what cost? Would she return whole, or would she bear some shadow, a remnant of the darkness she’d been drawn from? And yet, could he walk away, knowing this chance existed?

He turned away, his gaze dark as he looked over the desolate hall. “What must I sacrifice, exactly?”

Alys tilted her head, her dark eyes shadowed and knowing. “Your life as you know it, Daemon. Your heart will belong to her… entirely, without room for another. And if you defy the magic or the price of it, her soul will suffer the consequences. The magic demands loyalty, and as such, it would demand yours.”

Daemon’s mind raced, visions of their past together flooding his thoughts. She had been his match in every way—her laughter, her fire, her unyielding spirit, and the fierce, defiant way she’d loved him. He couldn’t count the times he’d dreamt of her, only to wake and remember that she was gone, lost to him by the hand of the one man he’d trusted least.

Alys’s voice was soft as she continued. “You know she saw me as a mother, as a friend. I would never harm her. But bringing her back… it will bind us all together in ways that none of us can predict. The magic is as old as these stones. It cannot be controlled once it begins.”

He met her gaze, his eyes intense, a silent question in them. “You would do this for her?” His voice was softer, guarded. “Even knowing the risk?”

Alys stepped closer, her expression softening with a trace of vulnerability. “For her, yes. She was dear to me, and her loss… it felt as though I’d lost a part of myself.” She hesitated, her gaze drifting as if looking into another world. “But Daemon, you must understand—this will change you. The Daemon Targaryen you know now will not survive unscathed. You might find yourself in conflict with those you once held dear, bound by forces that even you cannot defy.”

Daemon’s gaze darkened. His mind flickered to those he might be forced to forsake: his family, the throne… perhaps even the very kingdom he had once sought to rule. The sacrifices twisted at his mind, a hollow ache forming in his chest. Could he do this, knowing he might become unrecognizable to himself, bound to a fate he couldn’t undo?

And yet, her face lingered in his mind, a flickering light in the shadows.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he let his heart answer before his mind could. When he looked back at Alys, his resolve was clear. “I accept. She was my life—whatever is left of me now is hers.”

Alys regarded him, a small, knowing smile curving her lips. “Very well,” she murmured, a flicker of satisfaction in her gaze. “But remember Daemon, once this path is set in motion, it cannot be reversed. And if the cost becomes too great, the only way to save her will be to destroy yourself.”

Daemon’s eyes flashed with fierce determination. “If that is what’s required, then so be it.”

Alys gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable as she extended her hand toward him. “Then come, Prince Daemon. The ritual begins tonight.”

SORRY! Plus announcement!!!

Well, first of all, I just want to apologize for not posting and updating my House of the Dragon series!!! I have just been really busy and just not had the time so that is why I have decided to post TWO chapters for ya'll! I hope you guys enjoy it! The next thing I have to say is that right when "Whispers Through Time" is finished (10 chapters only!!) I WILL be starting the next series trying to go based off of that request for my Edmund Pevensie one-shot since they have now requested to make it a series so I really hope you guys end up enjoying that as well! That's all! "Whispers Through Time" is almost finished so I hope you guys enjoy the last few chapters that I have made! Thanks! Have a good day/night!!!!

Hello! How r u?

Hiii, im okay. Im really sorry for not uploading. I’ve been really busy with school and just haven’t been feeling that well lately.

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 3~}

Summary: The Phoenix Clan is after Chris, and the sisters are trying to help. But there are many questions that they need answering. How long can Chris keep his identity a secret? [Before Chris-Crossed]

Characters: Charmed Ones, Bianca, Chris, Leo

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 862

Masterlist

Chris was still wondering, who could be after him? Could it be Wyatt? Could Wyatt have sent an assassin after him. Well, he has done worse. Chris winced as he remembered the memories that have scarred him for life, literally.

“Hey Chris,” Piper Appeared by the playpen in the attic. Chris jumped slightly. Piper smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. I was just a little distracted, I didn’t see you come up.” He admitted.

“Any progress?” She asked.

“Not really. I mean, I have made a few strong vanquishing potions, but what’s the point?”

“Chris, they are after you! Don’t say ‘what’s the point’!” She exclaimed, shocked at his words.

“I mean, even if we vanquish the Phoenix who is after me, they will just send more. We need to find out why they are after me. And it says in the book, someone hires them. Who? Who is after me? There is just a lot to figure out. And we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Wow, I guess I never thought of that.” Piper admits.

“Piper, I will just go to P3. I don’t want to endanger you or Wyatt.” 

“They aren’t here yet.” She reminded him.

“But they will be…” He added.

“Way to kill the mood.” She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. He smiled at her. She sat on her grandmother’s couch once she was certain her son was okay.

“Did Leo orb down at all while I was having my nap?” She asked.

“No. Sorry Piper.” 

“It’s fine.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“You know what. You shouldn’t have to suffer through this. It’s Leo’s loss. Not yours. You have your sisters at your side, your safe son, a bitchy white lighter to help babysit whenever your amazing and successful job. Plus, all the magical powers you could ever ask for. Please, Pipe, don’t let Leo put you down. You deserve better. I mean, right now, he is probably in a room full of Elders wearing robes acting all serious. And, you know what, they say they are good people. But you guys, here on Earth, are the ones who are fighting and putting yourself in danger for the greater good. What do they do? Come down and heal us every once in a while.

And they say, THEY do the most. They aren’t worth it Piper. Please, don’t feel like that.” She looked stunned.

“Wow. That’s one hell of a speech you got there. How long have you been practicing that one?” She asked. He smiled.

“Well, in case you haven’t figured out by now, Elders aren’t exactly my favorite people.”

“Lucky for you, I have been observant. I have noticed that. Why? I mean,  I have a ton of reasons, as you know. But, I am curious as to why you don’t like them.” 

“You want the list?” He asked. She nodded.

“If you want to tell me.”

“I do. Well, when I was a teenager, my mother. Um…my mother was hurt so I called an Elder or a whitelighter down. And well, they were too late. And she died. AndI asked why they didn’t come sooner. And they said they didn’t think it was important. They never care about anyone else apart from themselves. And when I became a whitelighter they think they can dictate who I have a relationship with. And what I do with my time. And that isn’t right. They have too much power. I mean sure, they are the ‘good’ guys. But, they take witches for granted. They take everyone for granted. And as long as they are happy and safe, nothing else matters.” He looked down, not wanting Piper to see him like this. He said too much.

“I am sorry you had to go though that. Were you there when your mother died?” She asked. He nodded. Not wanting to say anything.

“I’m sorry. Was your mother a witch then?” Again, he nodded.

“Okay Chris, I have to ask. You seem to know a lot about us. Phoebe, Paige, Wyatt, and me. How? I mean, the other day you struggled to open the drawer in the sunroom, and you tapped it in the exact right place for it to open well. No one knows stuff like that if you don’t know the people. Do we know you? Are we going to know you? Do we know your family?” He moved his gaze up to meet hers finally.

“Piper, I know you are sick of me saying this. But, I can’t really tell you anything about myself. Future consequences. But I promise, you will know everything there is to know about me. And soon.” 

“Okay. Thank you for telling me that about yourself.” She said,

“It’s okay. I am going to go into the Underworld, to see if anyone knows who has hired the Phoenix to come after me.”

“Okay. Phoebe messaged me. She will be home in a few minutes. Go on, be safe.”

“I will.” He smiled warmly at his mother and orbed away to the Underworld to see if he could get any answers.

Hiii, may I be added to ur tag list for secrets whispered through time? 💘

Yess, of course. Sorry for the late reply! :( I have been really busy.

Eternal Harmony: {~Trials and Tribulations~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 518

Chapter 5 --- Epilogue

The meadow, once illuminated by the ethereal glow of the eclipse, now bathed in the soft radiance of the stars. The night held a palpable tension, an anticipation of challenges that loomed on the horizon. Y/N, standing amidst the Cullens, felt the weight of the immortal world pressing against the fragile boundaries of their existence.

Alice, her every movement a dance with the unseen, turned to Y/N. "Trials are the threads that weave the tapestry of our journey. Each challenge is an opportunity for growth and understanding."

Jasper, the empathetic anchor of the family, added, "We face the trials together, drawing strength from our bonds. The supernatural world is unforgiving, but our unity is our greatest defense."

As the Cullens gathered, the night seemed to hold its breath. Edward and Bella, the immortal lovers, shared a silent communication that transcended words. Emmett, his robust laughter momentarily subdued, exchanged a knowing glance with Rosalie—a shared acknowledgment of the trials they had weathered over the centuries.

Y/N, seeking guidance in the starlit night, asked, "What challenges do we face? And how do we navigate this supernatural terrain?"

Alice's gaze shifted to the horizon, where shadows danced in the moonlight. "There are forces that seek to unravel the delicate balance we've forged. A cosmic entity, ancient and formidable, threatens the fabric of our reality. The trials ahead will test not just our strength but the very essence of our existence."

Jasper, ever attuned to the emotions in the air, added, "Our unity is our strength. As we face these trials, remember that our bonds are unbreakable. Together, we navigate the uncharted territories of the supernatural realm."

The night, with its silent promises and unspoken challenges, enveloped the meadow in a cocoon of cosmic energy. In that moment, Y/N felt the weight of destiny pressing upon them, a destiny intricately entwined with the immortal family that stood united under the celestial canopy.

As the Cullens prepared to face the trials that awaited, a distant howl echoed through the forest, and the moon cast its silvery glow on the path ahead. The journey into the unknown had begun.

Emmett, breaking the contemplative silence, grinned. "Bring it on! We've faced centuries of trials, and we're still standing. This is just another chapter in our never-ending story."

Rosalie, her expression resolute, added, "Our family endures. Trials may shape us, but they do not define us. We emerge stronger, together."

The night unfolded with a promise of challenges and triumphs, each member of the Cullen family prepared to face the trials that destiny had woven into the fabric of their immortal lives. In the cosmic ballet of existence, Y/N sensed a profound truth—that amidst the trials and tribulations, love and unity would remain their guiding stars. The meadow, witness to the unfolding saga, stood as a testament to the enduring spirit of those who dared to defy the supernatural forces that sought to unravel their immortal tale. Little did they know that the trials ahead would forge bonds even stronger, leaving an indelible mark on the very essence of their existence.

Do u write smut?

To finally answer this question, I will if you want me to. I’m not a smut writer or smut type blog but if you guys want me to write a one shot about for it or to add a scene in a series, I will try my best. Wont promise that it’ll be good tho😭

When's the Edmund one coming? :D

It’s coming!!! I’m really sorry for the lateness and me just not uploading, just a lot of stuff going on in my life and I honestly just forget that I even have people actually enjoying my writing and waiting for more so I really do apologize and I’m about to post the 1st chapter, and I had lost like, everything so I am trying to figure that out.

Charmed: Chris' Identity is Discovered {~Chapter 10~}

Summary: The Phoenix Clan is after Chris, and the sisters are trying to help. But there are many questions that they need answering. How long can Chris keep his identity a secret? [Before Chris-Crossed]

Characters: Charmed Ones, Bianca, Chris, Leo

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 647

A/N: Sorry I haven't been updating you guys, I have been very busy with school lately.

Masterlist

“Mom?!” Piper shrieks.

“Silence.” An Elder protests. Wanting to know more, she continues to watch. This time the hologram-like screen has moved onto a different memory of Chris.

Chris looks around 16-17 years old. He looks tired, too tired for a boy so young. His face speckled with a few teen spots and pimples. Suddenly, someone orbs enters the room, but with the amount of magic the boys see on a daily basis, this is no big deal to Chris. Having to look interested he turns sound and there stands Leo. Not him, again.

“What do you want?” Chris snaps at Leo.

“Chris, don’t speak to me like that.”

“You’ve come into my home, with no invitation. I will speak to you however I damn like.” Chris retorts.

The sisters look on in shock. Why would Chris speak to Leo like this?

“Did I adopt Chris or something?” Piper asks. Phoebe and Paige shrug.

“Keep watching.”

Leo frowned at his son.

“What do you want anway?” Chris asked.

“I wanted to talk to you and Wyatt.” “No. Get out.” Chris replied, with annoyance.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, get out. When we come and see you, you’re too busy. We are not seeing you, on your terms. It isn’t fair. And me and Wyatt have had it. Get out.”

“Chris-”

“Do you want me to spell it out for you?! Get out!” Chris shouted. Seeing Chris’ rage increase by the second, Leo decided it would be wise to leave Chris. Let him cool off. Leo orbed out, and to the heavens. Chris picked a toy car, near the piano and threw it at a table. Knocking over a vase. As it shattered on the floor, he heard orbs. Chris has had enough.

“God Leo! I told you to get out-” He said while turning into the direction of his father. But it wasn’t Leo. It was Wyatt. He looked around 18 years old. His blonde hair is in major need of a haircut.

“Leo? He was here?” Wyatt asked. 

“Yeah.”

“And you got rid of him?”“Yeah.”

“Good. I am in no mood to deal with him right now.”

“Why? What happened?” Chris asked, concerned for his older brother.

“Nothing Chris, I am fine. I’m just tired. Is grandpa home yet?”

“Not yet. He went to the store. He should be home pretty soon though.” Chris explained.

“Alright. We should probably clear this up before he comes home. You’d have to explain and say that Leo was here. And you know how Leo always sets him off in one of his moods.” Wyatt suggested.

“I’ll get the broom.”

“Don’t bother. Just use the vanishing spell. There isn’t time anyway.” Wyatt quickly peered outside the window and saw his grandfather’s car. “Grandpa’s here.” Quickly, Chris recited the vanishing spell, which he often has to use. Even though he is constantly told not to by his grandfather, the elders and even Leo. What gives him the right?!

The hologram-like screen moved onto a different memory.

“Happy 17th birthday Chris!” Wyatt said, a little too loudly. Chris opened his eyes, groaned and turned away in his bed. Wyatt laughed. “Come on Chris! Get up! Me and grandpa have a birthday surprise for you. I will see you downstairs in 5 minutes, or I will just orb you down.” Not wanting to be Wyatt’s little puppet Chris got up and quickly got changed into decent clothing, then went down the stairs.

“Surprise!” Wyatt and his grandfather called. One the table was a fully cooked breakfast, just the way his mother used to cook breakfast on special occasions. 8-9 presents on one end of the table.

“Wow. This is amazing you guys!” Chris said, excitement evident in his voice. He hugged his grandfather, then embraced Wyatt.

“I hope you like it.” Wyatt said.

“I already do.” Chris replied. Wyatt smiled.

“Happy birthday, little brother.”

Whispers Through Time: {~Meeting Daemon~}

A/N: I am so sorry I have not posted chapter 3, I have been really busy with school and had to catch up with all my work since I was really sick last week and missed a bunch of work!

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1243

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 3 --- Chapter 4

Days had passed since you left the first note for Rhaenyra, and the subtle shift in her demeanor was unmistakable. While she had yet to confront anyone publicly, you could sense her wariness in the way she interacted with those around her. The seeds of doubt had been planted, and though you were relieved that your warning had reached her, the constant danger of being discovered hung over you like a storm cloud.

But it wasn’t just Rhaenyra’s growing caution that concerned you. Daemon Targaryen’s presence had become more frequent, and wherever he went, he seemed to move with a purpose that unnerved you. You had caught glimpses of him here and there—always watching, always listening. It was only a matter of time before your paths crossed again.

And then, one day, it happened.

You had been sent on an errand to deliver herbs to the maester’s chambers, a mundane task that took you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep. Your mind was preoccupied with the next note you intended to leave for Rhaenyra—one that would warn her of a more immediate threat from within her inner circle. As you turned a corner, lost in thought, you nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.

Startled, you looked up—and your breath caught in your throat.

It was Daemon.

The Rogue Prince stood before you, his silver hair catching the light of the nearby torches. His violet eyes regarded you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you thick with unspoken questions. His gaze swept over you, as though he were trying to read your every thought, your every secret.

“Apologies, my lord,” you stammered, quickly stepping back and bowing your head to avoid his piercing stare. Your heart hammered in your chest as you prayed he would simply move on and forget the encounter.

But Daemon was not one to let things go so easily.

“You’re the midwife, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice smooth yet laced with something sharp, something dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. “I was sent to deliver these herbs to the maester.”

He nodded, though his eyes never left you. “I’ve heard you’ve been quite useful since your arrival.” His words were casual, but you sensed the underlying suspicion. “Unusual for someone to earn such favor so quickly.”

“I only do what I can to be of service,” you said, trying to maintain your composure.

Daemon smirked, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Modest, too. How very noble of you.” He took a step closer, and you instinctively tensed. “And yet, you’ve managed to find yourself in quite a few interesting places around the Keep, haven’t you?”

Your pulse quickened. Did he know? Had someone seen you near Rhaenyra’s chambers? You forced yourself to remain calm, to hold his gaze without faltering. “I go where I am needed, my lord. Nothing more.”

His smirk widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. You’re just a humble midwife, after all.”

The way he said it made it sound like a lie, like he knew there was more to your story than you were letting on. But you couldn’t afford to let him push you. Not here. Not now.

“I should be going,” you said, shifting the basket of herbs in your arms as an excuse to leave. “The maester is waiting.”

Daemon stepped aside, though his gaze followed you as you passed. “Take care,” he called after you, his tone laced with amusement. “The Red Keep can be… unpredictable.”

You didn’t respond, quickening your pace as you made your way down the hall. Only when you were far enough away did you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

That night, as you sat alone in your room, the weight of the encounter with Daemon settled heavily on your shoulders. He knew something—maybe not everything, but enough to make him suspicious. And if there was one thing you knew about Daemon Targaryen, it was that he didn’t let things go easily. His curiosity was as dangerous as his sword, and now, it was fixed on you.

You had to be more careful.

But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew that avoiding Daemon’s scrutiny wasn’t your only problem. You still had to deliver the next note to Rhaenyra. And this time, it would be even riskier.

The following day, the Keep was buzzing with activity as preparations for an upcoming feast were underway. Servants rushed through the halls, carrying linens, food, and other supplies, while the nobles discussed matters of the court. It was the perfect distraction.

You had written the second note the night before, the words carefully chosen to warn Rhaenyra of an impending plot by one of her closest allies. Slipping the note into the same alcove near her chambers would be tricky, especially with Daemon’s increased presence around the Keep. But you didn’t have a choice.

As you moved through the crowded halls, your mind raced with thoughts of how to avoid detection. The feast provided some cover, but there were more guards than usual stationed near Rhaenyra’s quarters. You would have to be quick.

When you finally reached the corridor leading to her chambers, you were relieved to see that the guards were distracted by a group of visiting nobles. Seizing the opportunity, you hurried toward the alcove and slipped the note into place, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

Just as you turned to leave, you heard footsteps approaching. Panic surged through you as you ducked into the shadows of a nearby column, your heart pounding in your chest.

Daemon.

He appeared at the far end of the hall, his expression unreadable as he spoke to one of the guards. You held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t notice the note—or worse, see you hiding. For what felt like an eternity, you stayed perfectly still, watching as Daemon scanned the corridor.

But then, as if by some stroke of luck, he turned and walked away.

You didn’t wait to see where he went. As soon as the coast was clear, you slipped out of the shadows and made your way back to the servants' quarters, your heart still racing. You had managed to leave the note without being caught—but just barely.

Later that evening, you found yourself on edge as you worked, your thoughts consumed by the possibility that Daemon was still watching. You had been careful, but how long could you keep this up before he—or someone else—figured out what you were doing?

As you went about your duties, you noticed Rhaenyra in the distance, speaking with one of her advisors. From where you stood, you couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could see the way her hand clenched tightly around the hilt of her sword, the tension in her posture unmistakable.

She had found the second note.

For a brief moment, her gaze flickered in your direction, but there was no recognition in her eyes. You were still a stranger to her, just another face among the many who served in the Red Keep. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, in time, she would come to depend on your warnings more than she realized.

But for now, your secret was safe.

At least, you hoped it was.