lady-of-fife - Tumblr blog

lady-of-fife · 2 years ago

Text

My Prince, My Queen

Aemond x (Foreign Princess) Reader

Let me know if you'd like to be on a taglist! :)

Part 1

You would have to marry. You had known that fact ever since you had been named the heir to your father’s throne. You liked to think that you had come to terms with it. With all of that in mind, you understood exactly why an invitation had been extended to the royal family of Westeros to visit the capitol city of your own nation. It had been sent under the guise of ‘strengthening the bond of the two kingdoms’, but you knew that your father intended the ‘bond’ to become familial. And you knew to whom he wanted to marry you to. Prince Aemond Targaryen, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen. He was the only boy in that family not already married or betrothed, and the only one not intended to inherit a title other than prince. This meant that if you married, you would not need to step away from your own inheritance. Your father considered it the perfect match.

You rushed through getting ready as your handmaidens fret about around you. Letting out a gasp as your dress is laced as tight as it possibly could be. It was a soft red color with silver flowers embroidered around the square neckline, the neckline that your breasts were now spilling out of.

“Is there no way you can tie this looser?” You ask, while already knowing the answer. The maid sighs and gives you a tight grin.

” Unfortunately not, my lady.” Another maid brings a necklace over and begins to reach around your neck

” Velaryon steel, Princess." She starts, " Set with rubies and black diamonds.” Your eye begins to twitch.

” My father is a fool if he thinks that this display is going to accomplish a thing.”

A knock on the door of your chambers saves either of them from having to reply to you. Another maid walks in, this one visibly younger than the ones already attending to you. She gives a small bow, avoiding your eyes, and clears her throat.

” The king requests your presence and his solar before the arrival of the Westerosi royal family.” She bows her head again and leaves as quickly as she came. The woman who laced your dress quickly begins braiding your hair up, fastening pins that match your necklace into it as she goes. As she finishes, you slip into your shoes. A glance in the mirror and a few compliments from the handmaid's later and you're out the door.

You rush through the halls and in no time at all are standing in front of the door to your fathers solar. You wave off the guards and open the door yourself. The door thuds softly behind you as you sit on the chaise across from your father.

” You know why I called you here, do you not?” He asks with his mouth set in a thin line.

”You want me to marry their Prince.” He gives you a wry chuckle.

“I want you to decide if you'd like to marry him.” The confusion on your face is evident as he continues.

"You will be queen one day, and with that, you will need to make decisions that not only benefit you, but the whole of our kingdom. I trust that whatever you decide will do so.” He gives you a true smile this time, and you can see the love and trust he has for you in his eyes.

”Now come, help your poor father up so that we may greet our neighbors.” It's your turn to smile as you stand and grip his hand and arm to pull him up from his seat. You keep hold of him as you both walk to the grand foyer to meet your guests.

As you reach the grand foyer, you realize that your siblings have beat you there. Your two young brothers standing alongside your older sister and her husband. When Leo, your youngest brother, sees you and your father approach, he breaks from the group. Squealing at the sight of you and running over before Andromeda, your sister, could stop him.

“Sister! Meda said that since I remembered the names of the Princes and Princesses, I can have an extra cookie at supper!” He clings to your skirts while jumping up and down.

“Did she now? You did so well to remember my boy.” Your father lets out a laugh and Andromeda sighs at the boys’ dramatics.

“It’s the only way I can get him to pay attention, father.”

“I don’t doubt that, any child of six would be motivated by a cookie.” Pavo, your middle brother chimes in.

“And a child of ten would not?” you question, causing Pavo to turn red. He sputters angrily but before he can get a word out, one of the servants approaches the family to let you know the Targaryen’s carriages have come through the front gate.

The large doors open in front of your family, and you can see down past the palace steps that a caravan of carriages have come to a stop. A servant steps out of one of them and opens the door of another. He begins to announce who each person is as they step out of the carriage. You absent mindedly toy with a strand of Leo's hair as thoughts of betrothals and kingdoms race through your mind. It isn't until your father steps forward to greet them that your jostled out of your thoughts.

“Queen Alicent, Princess Rhaenyra, what a pleasure it is to have you and your family visit our Kingdom and home.” It's only then that you see which members of the royal family have been sent. Queen Alicent Hightower and three of her children, Prince Aegon Targaryen the second, Princess Helena Targaryen, and Prince Aemond Targaryen, as well as Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her two eldest sons, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and Prince Lucerys Velaryon.

Then he begins to introduce you and your siblings.

“My eldest child, Princess Andromeda Cirillo, and her husband, Lord Perseus Eurymedon” Your sister smiles and your brother-in-law bows.

“My second child, Princess (Y/N) Cirillo, my heir to the throne,” You bow and can see the surprise in Queen Alicent’s eyes as well as the delight in Princess Rhaenyra’s.

“And my two youngest, Prince Pavo Cirillo and Prince Leo Cirillo.” The two boys do their best to bow gracefully.

This is when your eyes land on Prince Aemond. He's already looking at you. You feel your breath quicken as his gaze pierces your own. You refuse to break eye contact, causing him to smirk. Your father addresses the whole group now, drawing Aemond’s attention from you.

”Servants will show you all to your chambers, there's time to rest and prepare yourselves for the welcoming feast tonight.” This distraction allows you to trace your eyes over the prince's face. His sharp jaw and high cheekbones paired with his long silver hair make him look positively ethereal. A man carved from the very stone his family rules.

Yet again you are being dressed by your handmaids, though this time your sister has joined you.

“I saw the way that boy was looking at you-- and the way you were looking at him.” You roll your eyes at Andromeda's words.

“Though I cannot speak for Prince Aemond, I was merely sizing up the man our father wishes me to marry.”

“Merely sizing up?!” She starts, “You looked like you wanted to eat that boy!”

“Andromeda! Do not say such things!” You scold as Leena, the maid pulling dresses from the wardrobe, snickers softly. Meda rolls forward and grasps your hand.

“There is no shame in it sister, I believe our mother teased me for the same thing when I first laid eyes on Perseus.” Your chest tightens at the mention of your mother. As if she can sense your sorrow, Andromeda reaches up with the hand not holding your own and cups your cheek. She turns your head away from the mirror you sit in front of. No words are shared between the two of you, but her soft smile and the gentle caress of her hand gave you the comfort she knows you needed. The moment ends when Leena clears her throat.

“Princesses, come and decide on your dresses for the evening.” In the end you choose a muted blue dress with intricate gold beadwork. Andromeda chooses a shimmering gold dress with a sheer plum overlay. Leena begins to lace you into your dress as two of Andromeda’s handmaids assist her out of her wheelchair and into her own dress before settling her back into the chair and making sure she's comfortable. Your hair is parted and pulled up into two loose buns, with baby hairs delicately framing your face. Two golden pins are tucked into your buns, one shaped like the moon and the other shaped like the sun. Your sister's hair is twisted up into a crown braid with golden pins shaped like stars placed throughout. The necklace placed around your neck is a simple gold chain with a small star pendant hanging from it. Andromeda's necklace is made of gold beads, if you look closely, you can see that the beads are alternating suns and moons.

Your father sits at the head of the table with you opposite him, at the foot. You're flanked by Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aemond. An unusual seating arrangement, though you know the purpose behind it. Your father supports the princesses claim to the throne and would like to forge a friendship between the two of you, and everyone knows why the prince has been placed at your side. Surveying the table, you can see your young brothers speaking with the Velaryon boys. Rhaenyra clears her throat.

“I believe that my sons are quite taken with your brothers.” She says, pulling your gaze from its resting place on the platter of glazed fig cakes that was just out of your reach.

“So it seems, Princess,” a grin pulls at your lips, “The boys don't have very many playmates around the palace; new faces are always welcome, especially such kind ones.” You could see Prince Jacaerys speaking animatedly with Leo, but you could not hear what he spoke of. His hand gestures and facial expressions led you to believe that he was telling a story of Dragons. Glancing down at your plate, you let out a small gasp. One of the fig cakes that you had been eyeing up had made its way onto your plate. You look to the Princess first but seeing that she had focused her attention on her youngest son, you turn to the man next to you. Yet again, the prince is already looking at you. Which would be unnerving to anyone else. You cut into the cake, splitting it in half, and slide a piece of it on to Aemond’s plate.

“Thank you, my Prince.”

“Your Prince?” He questions as he grasps the hand you had yet to fully retract. Your cheeks grow hot at both his words and the press of his lips against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. He huffs out a laugh as he pulls back.

“It was no problem at all, my Queen.” You draw in a deep breath; you quite like the way that sounds.

“There's no need for such titles, I've not ascended the throne yet.” He leans in further, your proximity to each other nearing on improper.

“I could say the same for you, as I'm not your Prince, yet…” His last word was a mere whisper, only meant for you, or maybe just himself, to hear. The moment is shattered when Leo tugs on your dress. You'd been so lost and Aemond that you hadn't noticed the young boy.

“Will you dance with me?” He uses his big doe eyes against you. Pulling yourself away from Aemond you stand.

“Of course, sweet boy.” You say as you allow yourself to be pulled into the throng of nobility already dancing. As you spin in circles, twirling your young brother enough to make him giggle, you try desperately to rid yourself of the warmth that had gathered in your belly. Eventually Leo is tired and dizzy enough that his nursemaid takes him off to bed. Extracting yourself from the dance floor proves itself difficult when you're whisked into the arms of a Lord whose face you'd recognize anywhere.

“Forgive me my Lord, but I fear I haven't caught your name.” You say in jest. The man laughs and spins you further into the jungle of bodies surrounding you.

“Forgiveness granted, Princess” he plays into your game, “Lord Aratus, at your service.”

“Lord Aratus!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. “A brother of Perseus? I dare say that makes us family!”

“I believe that to be true, cousin.” Aratus leans you into a dip.

“Though I must say, I think dancing with you has put me in danger.” You follow his gaze and your eyes land on a disgruntled Prince Aemond. Your cheeks flush and you look away quickly.

“If he wanted to dance with me, he should have asked.” You say as your cousin spins you towards the edge of the crowd.

“Perhaps he's shy?” You scoff at the thought.

“Go to the gardens and he's sure to follow, Princess.” And with that, Aratus falls back into the mess of movement. You take his advice, walking out into the corridor and following the path that you know like the back of your hand.

You doubt that the prince could find you, he lacks the knowledge needed to navigate the sprawling castle gardens. The thought of it is conflicting. On one hand, the short conversation that you'd had with Aemond filled you with a delicious heat and longing you've never felt before. On the other, you needed the upper hand. You suppose this shall be a test of his hunting abilities. Settling at the foot of an old willow tree, you close your eyes and let the cool night breeze and the rustle of leaves soothe your nerves. After a few moments, you open your eyes again. Staring at the stars that peak through the branches above you. Your heartbeat had slowed from the rapid thud it picked up at dinner. In the distance you can hear the band picking back up again, raucous cheers follow the upswing. Closer now, you begin to pick up heavy footsteps. It appears your cousin was right. Casting your gaze upon the man rounding the corner, you become determined to turn the tables on him.

“Hello, my Prince.” You tease, “Have you found yourself lost in the gardens?” He responds with a growl.

“Who was that man?” Jealousy makes his face even sharper, his single eye piercing your soul. “Whatever do you speak of?”

“You know what I speak of.” He's looming over you now.

“The ugly bastard that swept you away when your brother left.” You stand quickly, surprising him enough that he stumbles back.

“I'll have you know that many find him quite handsome, including me.” He growls again and the distance between you doesn't last. He corners you against the tree, pressing himself against you. Yet again heat pools between your thighs.

“Who is he?” You can feel his breath against your lips as he asks.

“Lord Aratus is a brother of Perseus, my sister's husband.” He presses closer to you still, his thigh finding its way between your hips. You just manage to keep a whimper from finding its way out of your mouth.

“He's like a brother of my own.” You finish, evading eye contact. He tilts your head back, a firm hand on your throat.

“Those words mean nothing to my family.” And you believe him. For him, brother marrying sister is commonplace.

“I don't believe that the nature of the Aratus and I’s relationship is any of you or your family's concern.”

“Is it not?” He asks his tone brimming with mirth.

“We both know why I'm here.” You reach out, grasping the hand wrapped around your throat and dig your nails in. He hisses and releases his grip on your neck. You grab his collar and drag his ear to your lips.

“Behave yourself, my Prince.” He can feel the drag of your teeth on the soft cartilage of his ear.

“I could have you strung up for your indiscretion tonight.” The threat sends shivers up his spine. It's your turn to take him by the throat, locking your hand against his pulse point. You give a squeeze, and he knows that you can feel the thrum of blood as it quickens beneath his pale skin.

“Kneel,” You push him lightly and then release his neck. “Kneel for me.” He hesitates, clearly confused.

“Pledge fealty to me and we shall wed in two moons.” After moments pause, and to your surprise, he takes to the knee and bows his head.

“Do you renounce all loyalty to the iron throne, and swear to serve and defend your queen, our Kingdom, and our heirs?” Your voice rings out in the night, commanding him to answer you

“I do.” Aemond says as you pull the sun pendant out of your hair. You reach down and pin it to the left side of his collar.

“Do you swear to serve House Cirillo with your hand, heart, and voice?” You ask while pulling the moon pendant out of your hair as well.

“I do.” You pin the moon to the right side of his collar.

“Rise now, as my betrothed Prince consort.” He stands slowly, brushing grass and dirt from the knee that was pressed into the ground. The tension is thick enough to cut, and you can't help but question what came over you. Emotions that you can't quite decipher are swirling in his eye.

“I suppose we should announce our betrothal to the family.” You say, softer this time. You can no longer hear music in the distance, the party has long died. You assume that your father has retired to his chambers.

“Allow me to escort you to your father, I assume you know where he is?”

“Yes, my Prince. Thank you.”

“It's no problem at all, my Queen.”

#aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #my prince my queen

56 notes · View notes