Daeron Targaryen · Daeron the Daring

Kinktober — Bonus Day

Intoxication

The feast for Prince Daeron’s eighteenth name day still roars somewhere beyond the corridor — music spilling from the great hall, goblets clashing, and Aegon’s raucous laughter echoing through the Red Keep. By the time you pried the youngest Targaryen from his brother’s wine-soaked grip, Daeron was already laughing too loudly, leaning too heavily against you, his words tumbling over themselves like scattered coins.

Now, with your arm steadying him, he staggers through the torchlit halls, recounting ridiculous tales of heroic battles against vicious pigeons in Oldtown and snapping his teeth to mimic Tessarion’s jaws between fits of laughter. Every few steps he forgets where you’re going, turning toward you with flushed cheeks and a crooked smile that lingers just a little too long to be innocent.

By the time you reach his chambers, Daeron is far too gone to stand — he collapses onto the fur-soft carpet and pulls you down with him, his eyes bright with mischief and wine. His fingers curl lazily around your hand, his voice softening into something more intimate as he presses a laughing kiss to your skin.

"You’re kind to rescue me," he murmurs, his breath warm against your knuckles. "Most would leave me under the table… Tell me, though — you did bring me a little gift, didn’t you?"

Note: In this case, Daeron is of age.