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legitalicat · 14 days ago

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GIRL OH MY GODS I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE IT!!

Welcome to Reclaiming a Home. I have a strong love for the Hobbit and LOTR and wished to give life to a new character. I hope you enjoy the prologue

This chapter is dedicated to @legitalicat. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 🥳🥳 I hope that your birthday is as wonderful as you are. Thank you for all the support you've given me, I appreciate and love you dearly.

Prologue

“Amaryllis,” a feeble man's voice trailed behind the fiery curls that tousled with each step she took. The old man hobbled behind her, clutching his top hat that sat upon his dusty grey curls. He couldn't help the chuckle that passed his weathered lips, pausing to breathe. Her curls flickered like flames in an open fire as she stormed ahead of him, small feet peeking from under her dress kicking up plumes of dirt in her wake. The skirt of her dress was a pale green embroidered with mushrooms along the bottom and flowers trickling down from her thin waist. The light orange corset covered the top of her dress, its sleeves slipping from her shoulders. She reminded him of his sweet Belladonna, his beloved daughter who was stubborn as a mule and fought her battles with a silver tongue. Amaryllis was much like her mother but had changed since her parents' passing. She had lost that spark from when she looked past Tuckenburrow imagining the adventure past the Shire. She wished to meet dwarves and see the elven cities. She hid behind her paintings and books now, tucking herself into her hobbit hole or on its roof to gaze at the stars. He saw the longing in her eyes as she looked past Tuckenburrow during the setting sun, she had once longed for adventure much like her older brother. He missed the days she clung to his leg and peered up at him with wide curious eyes. “Amabell.” There was a soft fondness in his weathered voice. Amaryllis slowed to a stop upon hearing the nickname, her head turned and the stripe of white hair above her ear hung on her shoulder. He smiled and leaned heavily on his cane, holding his other hand. “Ye have yer mother’s stubbornness. Tis refreshin’ to see again.” His eye fell to the white stripe of curls, reminiscing over a love lost long ago.

Amaryllis' thin brow relaxed and a small smile crested her lips. “Anyára.” She whined softly before returning to him and resting her hand on his inner arm. She pressed her head softly against him as he guided her into the Tuckenburrow market. Stalls lined the paths leading into the shopping district. The mounds of earth the hobbits called home turned into cottage styled shops as they walked. The inhabitants of Tuckenburrow gave him words of respect as they passed. He was honorable and defended the Shire as the Thrain for many years. A comfortable silence set between the two. He bought them food from a stall while Amaryllis found them a spot by the water fountain. When he sat, Amaryllis let out a soft breath. “Anyára, I was frustrated. I am sorry I stormed away like that.” She whispered, finding the intricate embroidery on her skirt interesting.

A chuckle left him and he softly shook his head grabbing the leather hat from on top and laying it on the table. His hazel eyes gleamed at her as he reached over and gently raised her chin. She looked up at him and he grinned. “You are a Took. Being foolish and temperamental is what we do best, Amabell.” His wrinkled finger poked her nose softly, he could remember the last time he had this conversation when Belladonna was coming of age. She told him exactly how she felt about marrying a ‘boring’ man of Tuckenburrow. Only this time with his granddaughter, she hadn’t chewed his head off like her mother did. “Bell also hated this talk. Got me a rightful chewing from ‘er over it.” His voice was melancholy as he thought of the time before Belladonna met Bungo Baggins. He knew that Amaryllis loved hearing stories of her mother’s younger years, solely because Belladonna forbade him to tell the stories. He always quietly shared secret stories with Amaryllis when she was young and even now he could see the sorrowful glee in her eyes at the mention of her mother. His hand raised to cup her cheek, “I’m not trying to force yer hand into a marriage ye don’t want. I just want ye to keep the thought in mind. I am old, and yer my last granddaughter. I want ye to live a happy and fulfilling life. A peaceful one, where I don't worry about my favorite grandchild.”

Terms: ‘Anyára’ means Senior in Elvish

Amaryllis smiled softly and rested her hand on the back of his hand. Her olive eyes fluttered closed for a moment. His hand was soft and wrinkled with time. He wore a ring on his finger. The metal was cool against her skin though his hand was warm and smelled of Tooken Brandy, a local liquor he made regularly to keep Lobelia Sackville-Baggins away from Tuckenburrow. He chuckled and watched as her light green eyes, the color of duckweed on the surface of a pond, fluttered open to look up at him. “I know Anyára. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I am only 19. I still have time before thinking about marriage. Can’t I just bask in the warmth of your company a little longer,” she whispered, leaning into his side once more. The old man chuckled softly and nodded. He pressed a kiss to her red curls accidentally hooking his handlebar moustache into a ringlet.

“Yes, let us relish in these peaceful moments, before your future husband takes you from me in the coming years.” He spoke softly to her, his cheek resting against the top of her head. His heart became heavy at the thought and he soon realized that he wished she would stop growing up, though he couldn't help but wonder what this beautiful flower would bloom into. She had come a long way from the small girl she once was, he knew she dealt with a lot of whispers about her lack of hobbit features. Her feet were small and delicate, unlike her parents and brother. She was graceful when walking and nature seemed to reach for her as she passed. It made his heart heavy with both solace and apprehension of the secret he had long kept close to his soul. He couldn't help but watch her as she ate the apple tart and admire the way her eyes gleamed at the sweet treat. Bilbo, much like their late mother, wouldn't let her indulge in countless sweets; but he’d never had the heart to tell her no. The way she lit up at the taste always filled him with a warmth, partly because of a promise he made long ago to his love.

The pair wandered Tuckenburrow and ended back at his hobbit hole. A large tree with leaves the color of an evening campfire sat on the roof of his home. It was different from the hobbit homes in Hobbington, with the front curved and the peak arching ever so slightly to the sky while staying tucked into the small hillside. The chimney poked up from the ground by the tree spouting a steady stream of smoke to the clouds. The flower gardens outside his home were freshly weeded and watered thanks to Amaryllis, who took care of the flower garden after his wife Adamanta passed in the spring 3 years ago. Amaryllis visited him most days apart from two days out of the week that were reserved for spending time with her brother and the anniversaries of her parent's deaths. On those days he spent the day at her aunt Chica’s bakery where Amaryllis worked, helping out and bothering his young granddaughter for more sweets that he would share with her. She had kept his memory of his sweet Belladonna alive.

“Have a good night's rest, Anyára.” she says softly to him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his wrinkled cheek. Gerontius’ hand cupped the back of her head and pressed a tender, loving kiss to her forehead. Her curls tickled his nose as his fingers gently rubbed the white stripe of hair with an unreadable look in his eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to the unique patch of white hair. Her green eyes softened and she smiled at him. She slipped from him after a long hug and began walking the trail back to Hobbington, leaving Tuckenburrow behind for the night. His heart was heavy as he watched her depart.

He couldn't help but reminisce of the small girl running to his house in a pink frilly dress with her mother trailing not far behind wearing a soft smile on her lips. The small girl would call out to him once his house was in view, and he would meet her at the door with welcoming arms. The way she held on to each word of his stories as her mother and grandmother would work in the kitchen. She stayed glued to his side, her doe eyes always watching him as he worked in the fields to help the farmer collect his harvest. She would ignore her grandmother's light scolding when she returned to his house covered in dirt, but the scolding soon died on her lips as she saw the excitement in Amaryllis’s eyes and how proud she was to give her the basket of freshly harvested food. Adamanta was fond of the small girl and often welcomed her help with baking.

As Amaryllis grew, the list of trouble she caused grew with her and Geriontius often found himself scolded by his daughter for teaching the small girl how to defend herself. Bungo, however, would hold the pouting girl in his arms with an amused look, barely able to keep his chuckles buried in his chest. He knew that if he breathed the wrong way he would be in the same boat as Amaryllis and Gerontius. Bungo loved his family and watched fondly as his wife spoke with her hands waving about wildly. Though sometimes Bungo couldn’t contain the chuckles when he found that his daughter had put worms in the drink of a boy who made fun of the stripe of white hair by her ear. Belladonna acted upset, she also soon was laughing. She was proud that her daughter could take up for herself and they could worry less about her being treated differently due to her unique aspects. Bungo ignored all notions that were implicated by his extended family claiming his wife was unfaithful due to Amaryllis’s small feet and the stripe of white by her ear. The girl even cut it down to the scalp when she was younger due to the rumors, but Bungo told her that he loved the patch of hair and that a silly rumor didn't change the fact that she was his little flower.

At the age of 7, he watched as his granddaughter hid her face in her mother's skirt with Bilbo at her back, his hands on her shoulders. Belladonna had tried to hold back her tears as she watched her husband's body lowered to the ground on the outskirts of Bag End. His daughter looked at her children, then the tears fell as she pulled them close. She was unable to watch as they covered the casket and placed the headstone marking the grave of Bungo Baggins, the father who loved his family dearly and was kind to those around. Belladonna struggled for months after the death of Bungo and Bilbo stepped up to raise his sister while their mother mourned in her own way. Amaryllis became quiet and often was found sitting in the hall looking at her father’s portrait with forlorn eyes. Amaryllis no longer ran to Gerontius with glee or joy. Instead she clung to her brother as if he would disappear too. Bilbo had filled the aching in her heart, but she developed separation anxiety when he left her with her grandfather. It took an hour of convincing and promises that he would return. Her eyes still showed a hint of light when he told stories of adventures, but when it came close to time for Bilbo to return she would sit in the window and wait. The joy she once had dulled and he almost didn’t recognize her if it wasn't for the tufted white hair.

Eight years later, and five months before Amaryllis’ 15th birthday her mother Belladonna took her last breath. The news of Belladonna joining Bungo in Valinor spread throughout the Shire. Belladonna's father, Gerontius, fell into his chair when his third daughter told him of her death. Belladonna was supposed to surpass his old age, watch little Amabell grow into a beautiful young lady and Bilbo as he filled his fathers shoes as head of house. As Gerontius' thoughts went to his grandchildren, he hobbled to the door with haste. Mirabella followed her 122 year old father as he rushed to Bag End. When he arrived to the hobbit hole, there were many teary eyes waiting outside to give food and condolences to the now motherless siblings. Gerontius moved through the crowd, most bowed their heads respectfully and gave their condolences. However, Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins wailed and clutched her husband theatrically. Gerontius glared at the woman as he passed. Lobelia didn't care for either child, nor Belladonna, and cared only about who would inherit the riches and Bag End. Mirabella closed the gate behind him and watched as he hobbled up the stone stairs. He knocked on the door and was greeted by his red eyed grandson, Bilbo. Amaryllis’ face was tucked into Bilbo’s navy blue vest, her tears dampening the velvet. Gerontius entered the hobbit hole, shutting the door to hide their tear stained faces from the large group outside. Tears now staining his own face as he pulled his grandchildren to his chest. His back face Belladonna's room, but his eyes traveled to her still form. She looked to be sleeping peacefully, but he knew she had already taken her last breath. Belladonna had come down with an infection in her lungs some weeks before. A human doctor from Bree attended to her, but the infection had reached it peak and weakness took over her body. Amaryllis had been the one to stay at her mother's side as she passed. Gerontius couldn't remove his eyes from his lifeless daughters form, his eyes pricked with fresh tears. He remembered bringing her home as a newborn many decades ago. She was supposed to outlive him, not leave before her time. He tried not to blame the gods, but he couldn't help the thought crossing his mind. She was with her Bungo now, no longer suffering from a broken heart nor illness. He had seen the pain his daughter suffered and he couldn’t help that small feeling of relief that spread through his chest.

Gerontius broke from his trail of thoughts as he stood in front of the door to his empty home. Amaryllis had long since left his view, but he couldn't bring himself to move as he recalled the past; The suffering she sustained by the deaths of Bungo, Adamanta, Belladonna, and others in the family that she was close to. As her grandfather, he wanted nothing more than to shield her from death and heartbreak as those around them moved on. He knew that one day he too would leave this world, but he hoped that the gods could wait until he knew she was taken care of. He wanted to give her away at her wedding in the place of her late father. He wanted to see the joy with his own eyes so he could tell them of the wedding when he greeted the children who passed before him in the land of Valar. His heart ached to think about the day he would die, but not because he feared death. Death had kissed his lips many times, but by the grace of a gentle soul, he was given the blessing of life.

#Reclaiming a Home #the hobbit #reblog

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legitalicat · 15 days ago

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These two are forever my favorites Idc

This is a beautifully written fic, my darling girl.

BOUND BY FIRE

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader Settings: Season 1 Summary: As the child of Rhaenyra and born dragonless, you grow up enjoying the company of Sunfyre, whose bond is forged by your love and affection for Aegon. But when the duties of the crown tear you apart and the cries of a dragon echo in the night, it is up to you to mend the bond or let it break of its own accord. Word Count: 3345 Warnings: Fluff, angst, suggestive smut, Alicent is kind mention of canon typical incest, canon divergent, hopeful ending, no beta reading. A/N: This is another birthday present for my lovely @legitalicat . Happy birthday to you, lovely. Sorry if I only posted this now, but I hope you like it. This is my first time writing for Aegon, so sorry for the things you will read. I'm a bit rusty with the writing, so sorry even for this. Since I wrote and posted this in a rush, I could change some parts in the following days.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3 (COMING SOON)

A piercing wail broke the silence of the darkness and the sound of rattling chains echoed through the empty corridors. Muffled voices speaking an unfamiliar language could be heard in the distance, trying in vain to calm something in the pit.

But the terrifying growls told a different story.

Walking through the corridors of the Dragon's Pit was not an unfamiliar experience, for you had walked through these walls since you were a child, but this time it was a turbulent one. Each step brought a new wave of unease, and you felt an endless shiver run down your spine, releasing a breath you hadn't realised you were holding: the growls and snarls grew in intensity, and deep within you a heavy weight formed in your chest.

It was a sound you had come to know well, as well as the emotions that flowed with each. The creature's roar was a land of emotions that only members of the house of dragon could feel - joy, anger, sorrow, or a deep sense of unease. You knew with a heart-wrenching certainty that those cries belonged to your lover too, and his dragon was only amplifying them.

It had been a long time since your mother and the king's wife had been on good terms. Once inseparable childhood companions, their bond had withered over time, giving way to a frosty distance that neither could bridge. Your birth was another friction between them, as Rhaenyra walked through the corridors of the Red Keep and faced the humiliation and pain of labour while introducing you to Alicent, who demanded to see every child pushed out of her body since the birth of her firstborn.

But the animosity between them has not stopped you from forming a special bond with one of the queen's children: Aegon has been at your side since you took your first steps, and the rumours surrounding your birth did not stop him from seeing you as his most beloved niece, despite the rocky relationship he had with your brothers.

The genuine affection between you and Aegon did not go unnoticed by Rhaenyra, and a proposal of marriage came during a council to reunite a house divided by mistrust and old grudges: it was the princess's last request to the queen, a sincere attempt to heal the rift and restore the unity that once existed.

However, Alicent harboured other plans for her firstborn, and certain that one day his father's crown would rest on his head, she demanded that every daughter of the Lords of the Noble Houses attend the Red Keep in the hope of finding him a suitable match. "No bastard's blood will mingle with the dragon's one," she once whispered to an ill and dull Viserys in his chambers, discussing Rhaenyra's proposal.

The affection between you blossomed into the purest and most torturous love, sharing stealing kisses in hidden alcoves and intimacy in the darkness of the castle's secret places. In time, Aegon's temper grew restless, and you began to notice signs of distress in Sunfyre as well. And from the moment Aegon ignored you things turned worse, and the visits to his dragon became sporadic.

Standing in the centre of the pit, you lifted your eyes to the golden creature before you, its huge, heavy body struggling desperately to break the chains that bound it. You recognised the two muffled voices of the two Dragonkeepers trying to calm it, but no Valyrian word was enough, and the dragon protested to be released.

“We tried everything, but the dragon does not seem to quiet down, princess,” one of the dragonkeepers cried out, but you never met their gazes, “Prince Aegon’s presence is highly requested,” the second one urged, silently pleasing for you to summon Aegon and fetch him in the Dragon’s Pit.

"Leave him to me," you commanded with a twang in your voice, your gaze still focused on Sunfyre as you took a few steps forward. The faces of the dragonkeepers were filled with consternation as they saw you approach the dragon, no fear on your face.

"Princess, we cannot let you..." one began, his protest tinged with concern.

"Leave him to me, I said," you cut him with a cold reply, addressing yourself with an authority worthy of a queen, "I shall call him down and put an end to this once and for all."

You then turned your full attention to Sunfyre, who stood in all his glory and restlessness, chains adorning his long neck. Once those were removed, you were amazed to see how his behaviour changed, the beautiful golden dragon tentatively approaching you with a regal but uncertain gait. As Sunfyre approached, you couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to Aegon: both carried the weight of royal blood with quiet dignity, but neither could see the burden of expectation on their shoulders.

"Vēsperzys," you murmured in a warm and almost maternal voice - a stark contrast to the cold one you had used before - and you reached out tantalisingly for his muzzle, feeling the warmth of his scales under your palm, "lykirī," (Sunfyre, calm.)

The snarls began to falter, replaced by a faint rumble that surrendered to your touch. But once you lowered your guard down, Sunfyre jerked your hand nervously and his cries continued to echo through the pit. Determined to soothe him, you stepped close again and placed both of your hands on his snout, rubbing gently his golden scales.

“Nyke gīmigon ao sagon isse ōdres,” you spoke again softly in High Valyrian, your eyes searching for his, “se nyke gīmigon iksā mundagon syt Aegon. Yn iksan kesīr lēda ao, se kosti umazigho lyks hēnkirī,” you continued, soothing him with gentle movements of your hands. (I know you are in pain, and I know you are sad for Aegon. But I am here with you, and we can find peace together).

It was then that Sunfyre's eyes met yours, and for that moment you felt a deep connection - a profound bond that was mirrored by the deep love and affection you felt for Aegon. You grew up together with the golden beast, sneaking into the Dragon's Pit whenever you could to listen to the golden beast sing, and riding on its back when it was big enough to carry both of you. Although you did not have a dragon of your own - no dragon egg was brooded to be placed in your cradle - you forged such a strong bond you came to think of Sunfyre as your own.

You felt his body soothe under your touch, the dragon's mind no longer clouded by fear, and though he could still sense his rider's distress, your presence seemed enough to be a powerful balm. You heard his cries fade, replaced by a low, contented rumble that vibrated through the ground beneath your feet.

A faint laugh escaped your lips as the dragon lovingly rubbed its snout against you, and in the depths of the pit - the Dragonkeepers' thanks were a distant echo to you - you still ached for Aegon's absence at your side, but a glimmer of hope warmed your heart, along with Sunfyre's quiet chant.

Confined to his chambers, Aegon paced nervously, his fingers running through the platinum strands of his hair as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. Rays of moonlight streamed into the room through the large windows, casting a soft light on his face, accentuating his redden lilac eyes and his tear-streaked cheeks.

He hated the conflict in his heart, forever torn between his sense of duty and the love he felt for you. As the king's male child, every lord looked to him to follow in his father's footsteps, to continue the line of peace and prosperity that Jaehaerys himself had set, and to keep the Targaryen glory at its peak. At least that was what his mother instilled in him.

“You are the King’s firstborn son, and what everyone in the realm knows in their blood and in their bones is that one day you will be our king,” said Alicent one day in his chambers, anger in her voice as he declared he would never challenge his sister’s claim. What kind of brother would steal his sister’s birthright?, he always thought.

What kind of lover would do such a grave insult to the person they love?

And when his mother announced that a noblewoman would be chosen to join him on the throne, his world collapsed into a thousand pieces. He would have gladly endured a marriage to his sister, for Helen knew that the match was a matter of duty and would not have blinked at the sight of you two together. But to marry another woman would have been a disrespect to you and the love that had always bound you together.

It was not an easy decision to let you go, but the weight of the world pressed down on him in a way he could not escape. He could not look into your eyes or Sunfyre's with a light heart, shame nestled in his heart as he thought of what his family would force him to do and how he was not brave enough to face them, the mere thought of disappointing them was even more terrifying than dying in the dragonfire.

His stream of consciousness was interrupted by a gentle knock on his door. The prince was about to dismiss the presence outside, thinking it was a servant, when he heard the soft sound of your voice. And he froze.

"Please, uncle," you pleaded outside, the sadness in your voice coming straight to his ears like a sweet torture, "let me in for once.

Aegon refused to answer, pacing the room nervously, his hands trembling in his hair. He thought that by ignoring you, you would give up and leave him to drown in his misery, but you were Rhaenyra's daughter: her stubbornness was yours too.

"I am not mad with you for what the queen did at the council," you said, and suddenly you felt his footsteps stop, "I know you did not want any of this, and I know your heart has been torn ever since. But if it is no longer my company you seek, please," you felt the urge to swallow a lump in your throat, your voice faltering slightly, "do not make Sunfyre suffer this much. Allow me to ease your pain, as I always did.”

A heavy silence followed your last words, and as you thought your words had gone unheeded and turned to leave, you heard the heavy doors of his chambers crack slightly, and soon you were allowed to leave. It was when you stepped inside that you took a look at your lover, the moon rays helping you helped you to see him clearly: his eyes were puffy from the endless tears spilled, and his hair were disheveled as well as his clothes, his gold-embroidered green coat opened to show his messy linen shirt. It hurt you to see him like this, though in your eyes he was still the most beautiful Targaryen you had ever seen.

“Gaomagon ao pendagon issi hoskagon yno?” Aegon asked in High Valyrian, approaching you slowly and measuredly, his walk reminded you Sunfyre’s one, “Udligon nyke, mandianna. Gaomagon ao pendagon issi hoskagon yno?” (Do you think they are proud of me? Answer me, niece. Do you think they are happy with me?)

You lifted your gaze, locking your eyes in his as you took both of his hands in yours, squeezing them in a comforting way, “Iksan hoskagon hen ao. Eman va moriot issare,” you replied, showing him a warm smile as you tried to let him escape from his thoughts. But your lips soon pressed in a thin line as he shook his head, freeing his hands from your grasp and sitting on a chair, resting his wrists on the armrest. (I am proud of you. I have always been.)

Aegon looked at you, giving you a sad smile as he replied, “Īlen daor kimívagho nūmāzma ao, yn ñuha lentor,” (I was not talking about you, but my family).

“Iksi lentor,” you retorted, approaching him with gentleness, “ īlon stepagon keskydoso ānogar. Emi va moriot sytilībagon hēnkirī ” (We are family, we share the same blood. We have always belonged together.)

“This is not what the queen thinks,” Aegon replied back with weariness in his voice, standing up again and resuming his nervous walk, “Why else would she have forced me to meet every noble lady in this kingdom, making sure that I greeted them with frills and smiles? Why else would she have forced me in an uncomfortable position, forever torn by duty and personal desire?”

His words were full of anguish, and for a moment you felt the weight of his responsibilities on your shoulders too. It was not the crown that was scared of you; Jacaerys would sit on the Iron Throne after your mother, and even though the kingdom came to terms with the idea of a queen ruling, you don't think they would be too happy about a female heir again. It was the ambition the Hightowers put on him and their obsession for the throne, and the fear of losing him and Sunfyre forever that came roaring back strong in your heart.

“She once told me that the realm knows in their blood and bones I will be king. That if I do not surrender to my sister, my life would be forfeit,” Aegon continued with a trembling voice, his gaze never meeting yours.

"But how? How could I ever do this to the woman I love? How could I have the courage to look her in the eyes, sitting on a throne that is not mine and wearing a crown that has never belonged to me? And for what? For pleasing a man and a woman who never fucking cared about me?", the last words came out as an angry growl, so dangerous even the bravest of the dragons would lower its head. You watched as Aegon threw a jug of water on the ground, shattering it into thousands of pieces.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. Aegon slowly walked over to it, sat down and played nervously with the ring on his finger, hiding his head under his shoulders. “I did not ask for this, sweet niece… never,” he broke the silence, his voice mingling with a few sobs escaping his lips, “I have done and endured what she had asked me for, hoping that mother and father would be proud of me. But it will never be enough for them. It will never be enough for everyone.”

You hesitated at this sight: you had seen him being distressed by his mother's demands, but never had you seen him so sad and defeated, so lost in a darkness he could not escape on his own.

You decided to step closer, your voice barely above a whisper as you kneeled down to him, “Look at me, please,” you demanded, delicately cupping his cheeks in your hands and raising it gently, forcing an eye contact. You smile at the sight of his eyes, reddened by tears but stunning and bright as two precious amethyst stones.

“You are enough for me, Aegon. You have always been,” your voice came to his ear as soft as honey, and for a second his sobs stopped. “You are worthy just as you are, and there will not be your mistakes or burdens to define you.’

Your kind words made his shaking body stop, as if they were a milky drink that made him feel better. After a while, he looked up at you. At that moment, you could feel strong emotions, but you did not say what they were. Memories of the past and a love that was strong but also broken came back to you.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The past and present collided, tangled in the silence, and you both knew you had to deal with them. Then, with a hesitant breath, he reached for you – his fingertips brushing against your hand, as if he was trying to find a way out of his own troubled state. And with the only sound of the crackling wood to break the silence of the night, your faces came closer, your lips timidly brushing at first before crushing together in a desperate and hungry kiss, which tasted of salty tears and unspoken words.

In the moments that followed, the two of you lay together in bed, your clothes scattered on the floor as your bare bodies touched, exploring each other with an eagerness that had been suppressed for far too long, but at the same time with the calmness to savour it all again, for fear that this might be the most beautiful of dreams, or that one of you might simply disappear from the other's sight.

You let out a sharp breath and arched your backs as the two of you became one, your bodies moving in a gentle but steady rhythm, your hands and lips savouring every inch of each other until you both reached your peak. You did not care if Aegon’s seed would blossom in your womb and make you round with his child: if this would bind both of you forever through blood and duty, then you would welcome the consequences without hesitation.

You looked down at the canopy in front of you as you ran your fingers through Aegon's hair, his breath hot against your neck as his arms wrapped around your body as if afraid to let you go. The gentle rise and fall of his breath matched the rhythm of your own, and you closed your eyes, savouring the warmth of his body against yours, whispering words of love and promises to escape together until the slumber wrapped you like a warm blanket.

Hen lantoti ānogar

Va sȳndroti vāedroma

(Blood of two

Joined as one)

A cold shiver ran down your face, tingling your skin like a gentle caress, moving your hair in the wind like precious threads of silk, the jewels of your headdress swaying in a sweet melody. You stood still as Aegon approached, a shard of dragonglass in his hand, pressed against your lower lip as blood flowed through the cut. It was a sharp pain that struck you at first, but was eased by the cold wind that blew against your cut and the gentle brush of Aegon's fingerprint on your forehead, drawing a mark with your own blood.

Mēro perzot gīhoti

Elēdroma iārza sīr

Izulī ampā perzī

Prūmī lanti sēteksi

(Ghostly flame

And song of shadows

Two hearts as embers

Forged in fourteen fires)

When it was your turn, you mimicked his movements with smooth and precise movements. After that, the dragonglass sliced your skin again, a long cut on your palms, joined as one, like your own blood flowing in your veins. A ribbon wrapped around your hands, making them tight and united as blood flowed down your arms.

Hen jenȳ māzīlarion

Qēlossa ozūndesi

Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo

Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi

(A future promised in glass

The stars stand witness

The vow spoken through time

Of darkness and light)

Even when you drank from the same cup, you never stopped looking at each other, your eyes were filled with a pure love that endured every duty and every obstacle. It was a moment of triumph for both of you, two dragons who finally break their chains and soar freely into the endless sky, no longer bound by fate or fear. When the last word in High Valyrian was spoken, you both poured your lips in a sealing kiss, the roars of Sunfyre sealed the union as it crossed the sky and danced on the lover’s heads.

You had always dreamed of running away with Aegon from King's Landing, far from the viper's nest that had torn you apart, of marrying in secret in a remote part of Westeros where neither Rhaenyra's court nor Alicent's would ever be able to find you and bring you home.

But this time it was not a dream.

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

#aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #reblog

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legitalicat · 15 days ago

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Not me about to cry again 😭 thank you my sweetling

Dionysius!Aegon II Targaryen, Telemachus! Sihtric and Prometheus!Gale greek mythology AU moodboards

As a small birthday gift for my darling @legitalicat <3 <3 I hope you like them and enjoy your special day!

Please reblog and credit if you use!

#moodboard reblog #aesthetic reblog #aegon targaryen ii #sihtric kjartansson #gale dekarios #supernatural gifs for every occasion

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legitalicat · 15 days ago

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Like Real People Do (Jacaerys x Noble!Reader)

We are back with a milestone request from my darling @legitalicat, and I also gifting this to her as a birthday treat! See the request ask here!

Song - Like Real People Do by Hozier

Summary: You were like a beacon of comfort and normality for Jacaerys. His title didn't seem to weigh as heavy when he was with you. You made him feel 'normal', whatever that word meant. You made him feel like he was not a prince, not heir to the throne, but a real person.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, noble reader, no specific descriptions of reader, all fluff, this is sickeningly sweet and we may need a dentist after, Jacaerys being a gentleman.

Words: 3121

I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt…

You hadn’t noticed it immediately. But Jacaerys had begun to spend a lot of time simply watching you. Even doing the most mundane of things.

The daughter of a noble house sworn to his mother, you now spent a lot of time on Dragonstone. Following your father as he swore his sword to Rhaenyra’s cause. You would accompany your father whenever he would venture to the island.

At first, you had stuck to his side as much as possible. Rhaenyra being made heir had prompted your father to begin to school you in more of a political light as the eldest daughter, so travelling to Dragonstone to watch your new Queen had become a source of fascination for you.

And the more time you spent on Dragonstone, the more time you began to spend in the prince’s company. Jacaerys was usually at his mother’s side, so for the most part the encounters were more formal.

But soon your father’s visits became more frequent which meant you made more effort to find more comfort and familiarity with the island.

Spending time on the beaches over in the castle. Simply walking and taking in the scenery around you.

This is what Jacaerys noticed first. And it fascinated him to no end.

Why were you digging? What did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?

As the war for the throne began to pick up traction, your father was occupied more and more. And he encouraged you to spend just a little more time exploring the island.

Today was one of those trips, wandering through the rocky hills as the sea air whipped at your hair.

But you weren’t alone this time. Too lost in the fresh, salty air, you didn’t notice the figure following a few paces behind you.

You descended to the beach, taking your shawl and setting it down to protect your gown from the sand. You absentmindedly drew patterns in the sand, letting the sound of the wind and waves wash over you.

But as the weather calmed, you heard another set of feet crunching in the sand. You moved to stand, immediately on edge.

Before you could say a word, Jacaerys spoke.

“Apologies, my lady, if I startled you?” he said gently, and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a breath, brushing down your skirt before smiling.

“Oh, not to worry, my prince,” you tried smooth down your hair as you spoke, immediately regretting not braiding it for your walk.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment. This was the first time you had been truly alone with Jacaerys. Every other encounter had been somewhere within the walls of the castle, surrounded by any number of other people.

“I, uh, I apologise for my appearance, I was not expecting to be accompanied…” you mumbled, simply wanting to fill the silence somehow.

Jacaerys only chuckled. Maybe he should have made his presence known sooner? But he had found the way you took in your surroundings so interesting to simply observe. How relaxed you seemed, as if you’d shed the mask of your noble title. Something he wished he could do himself.

“Nothing to apologise for, I am the one that disturbed your solitude.”

You were surprised by how relaxed you felt, now that the initial surprise had dissipated. Maybe it was being out of the castle, out in the fresh air with no expectations for how you acted.

“You are welcome to join me, my prince?” you asked, silently hoping he would agree.

The prince smiled, there were no duties calling him back to the castle, though he likely should have been doing something. Maybe a bit of respite from the castle walls was what he needed?

“I would love that, my lady.”

You leaned down, spreading your shawl out as wide as you could so there was space enough for both of you. You settled yourself back down, returning your gaze to the sea before you. Jacaerys removed his cloak, doing as you had with your shawl. A little sand wasn’t going to do any harm.

As he sat, he took the chance to look at you, as he did whenever you entered a room. He took in just how lovely the sun was as it shone through your hair, how it began to illuminate your profile like a halo.

But what he enjoyed most, was how normal it felt to just sit beside you. He didn’t feel like a prince in this very moment, and it was thanks to you.

Of course, it helped that he truly did find you beautiful.

I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you…

How many hours passed, neither of you knew. But the weather soon took a turn, the sea air growing cold and the wind now more than a tolerable breeze.

Jacaerys noticed the way you tried to hide your shivers and took it upon himself to suggest you both return indoors.

“Shall we return? Dragonstone’s beaches can get quite cold in the evenings.” Jacaerys said softly, standing up and holding a hand for you to take.

And you took it gladly, letting him pull you to standing. Before you could even bend down to grab your own shawl, Jacaerys lifted his cloak to drape over your shoulders.

You kept your head down, trying desperately to hide the blush you knew had begun to bloom on your cheeks.

“Thank you, my prince. We should be quick then, so you do not freeze?” you teased, pulling his heavy cloak a little higher up on your shoulders.

Jacaerys nodded, grabbing your shawl from the ground and holding out his arm for you to take, his own cheeks growing pink as you took it.

“Please, would you call me Jacaerys?”

He didn’t miss the surprise on your face. You may have spent a lot of time in his presence, but using his name still felt extremely intimate. But the almost pleading look in his eyes was hard to ignore.

“I can try, I think. Though it will take some getting used to, so forgive me if I forget to,” you answered, hoping that was enough for now.

It earned you a soft smile, his appreciation clear.

He knew your upbringing would have been as ingrained in your psyche as his own. Calling a royal by their name would likely seem incomprehensible. Just as if he were to use your name, it would have felt quiet unusual.

But names were personal, intimate. Names had no status, no titles. And you made him forget his title with just your presence.

You both began to walk, your arm safely nestled through the crook of his elbow. You were halfway back to the castle when a thought crossed your mind.

“And mayhaps you should call me by my name then? Instead of my lady?” you asked, feeling a little disappointed as you saw the castle come into view in the distance.

Jacaerys smiled. He had heard your name whenever you were announced, a name as beautiful as the woman who owned it. It was only fair for him to use yours if he’d asked you to use his.

“That sounds fair. It can be something we allow for moments much like we shared today?”

He let his question linger. Silently asking for there to be more days like today, without having to embarrass himself asking.

“Our little secret…Jacaerys.”

Jacaerys felt his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips. The way you said it so gently as though you were still unsure about using it.

The rest of the walk to the castle continued in silence, but Jacaerys couldn’t take his eyes off you for most of it. There was something about you that kept drawing him in, something that made him desperate to keep you at his side.

You gave him a sense of normality, yes. But there was something else. Something that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you entered a room.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do…

In the days that followed, Jacaerys’ mind kept returning to you. To sitting beside you on the beach, to the sound of his name on your lips, to the feel of your hand on his arm.

He tried to ignore the fluttered feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of you, but it was more than a challenge. His cloak still held the faintest scent of your perfume, which he had begun accustomed to being able to smell whenever he wore it.

You had returned home with your father the night before, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before you were back. The trips your father made were frequent, which he was now eternally grateful for.

He had stood at the castle walls as your ship left, still remembering the kiss to his cheek that you had snuck in when your respective parents were otherwise engaged.

A kiss that was still in his mind now as he tried to read the pile of parchments in front of him. Not a single word he read seemed to hold in his mind.

Every thought he had would somehow return to you.

I knew that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago…

You waited in anticipation for your father to tell you when his next trip to Dragonstone would be. There was no use in hiding it, you wanted to see Jacaerys again.

There was a sense of safety with him, you weren’t afraid to relax around. As he was with you. Whether it was only friendship, or something soon to be more, you didn’t know. But the mere thought of him gave you butterflies every time.

Each time you would see your father handed a letter, you hoped it would be a summons to Dragonstone again. But a couple of weeks went by and there was nothing.

You would go to sleep each night, silently wishing that the next morning would bring a letter.

Until one morning, your wishes were answered. Your father came down to breakfast, parchment in hand and looked immediately to you.

“Ready for another journey to our Queen, sweet daughter?” he asked, already chuckling at the fervent nod you gave him.

What you did not know, was that your father was more than aware of your affection for the prince, and he was more than supportive of it. To be in the prince’s good graces, was to be in the Queen’s and your father had long cemented himself as a pillar of loyalty for Rhaenyra.

The journey was planned for that evening, so you had no hesitation in hurriedly finishing your breakfast and leaving to pack your things. All your father’s journeys to Dragonstone were a week or two at best, so preparation was key.

So I will not ask you why you were creeping, in some sad way, I already know…

The ship arrived late into the night, the servants helping you, your father and the other members of your household collect your belongings and move them inside.

The castle was quiet, late enough that you were sure most of the royal family was already asleep. The sailings were not all that long, but there was little about them that you enjoyed. Yet, despite how tired you felt, you rarely found rest after one of those journeys.

You were all shown to your rooms, but you made no move to settle down. Even when exhaustion began to settle in your bones, you were a restless soul.

And Dragonstone at night? Well, that was something you had yet to experience to its fullest advantage.

The large castle seemed even grander in the darkness. The only light were the sconces on the walls and the chamberstick in your hand. You wandered the halls, paying mind to the rooms you knew were off limits no matter the time of day.

Your aimless wandering brought you to the library. Aside from the beach, it was one of your favourite places to visit. The tall bookcases that seemed to go on endlessly, the smell of old books. There was something so comforting about it all, despite it being far grander than the library in your own home.

But just like the beach all those weeks ago, you were not alone.

You couldn’t see him, tucked into a corner and hidden by the crammed bookcases. But Jacaerys had been in the library for most of the evening. The longer the war between his mother and uncle dragged on, the heavier the title of heir to the Iron Throne had begun to weigh on him.

And Jacaerys had never been more conscious of what others thought of him.

It was only when you heard the soft scrape of a chair did you realise you weren’t the only one hidden in the rows of dusty tomes.

“Is someone there?” you called, clutching your shawl around your shoulders.

When no one answered, you began to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. Until you heard some very familiar footsteps.

“It is just me,” Jacaerys responded, appearing from his corner with a soft smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief, walking closer to him.

“Jacaerys, I thought my mind was playing me for a fool, hearing things!” you laughed, setting the chamberstick down on the table beside him.

You took the chance to look him over. Maybe it was the candlelight, but he looked far more tired than usual.

“Are you well?” you asked, trying to keep your concern polite still.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. Your presence was a comfort, a safe space where he could let his mask slip.

He sat down in a nearby chair. He was no longer a prince; he was simply a young man with the weight of seven kingdoms on his shoulders. As if by instinct, you moved closer to him.

Aside from the goodbye kiss to his cheek and the occasional soft touch of your hands, there hadn’t been much physical contact between you.

But you could immediately sense that he simply needed…something.

So I will not ask you where you came from, I would not ask and neither would you…

Your hand went to his shoulder first, standing between the chair in which he sat and the table. The touch was gentle, giving him the chance to pull away if he wished.

But Jacaerys didn’t want to. With you, he wasn’t a Targaryen prince, he wasn’t his mother’s heir.

He was just Jacaerys.

His hand raised to hold on to yours. Lacing his fingers and simply holding on to you.

How could he tell you how he was feeling? Would you think less of him? Would you think him weak?

But you were perceptive, and you could see the maelstrom of emotions behind his eyes.

“Jace…you can talk to me, you know that?” you asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You only called him Jace when emotions were high. The last time had been when you had both said goodbye.

He sighed again. Why wouldn’t the words just come out?

“I…sometimes I wish I wasn’t the heir,”

Jacaerys hurried through the words, his voice barely a whisper but enough to hear.

Your face softened, though concern lingered in your gaze.

“And why is that?”

Your head tilted down to look at him as you spoke. Your hand moving from his shoulder to his cheek. The reasons weren’t something you were unaware of, but you knew he needed to talk it through.

“There are times I wish I could simply…be. To be able to live without the shadow of the throne at my back…”

His eyes closed as he leaned into your palm. With you, he felt like that could be possible. Since that day on the beach, you had respected his wish to not be seen as a prince. For his title to mean nothing whenever you were alone.

To let him be just a real person.

His eyes met yours and a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“I feel like that with you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, butterflies tingling in your stomach. Gentle waves of affection washing over you.

You made him feel safe. You made him feel comfortable. You made him happy.

“Jace…”

No more words left your lips as he pulled you closer. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his under your chin. You hesitated for only a moment before you returned his embrace. Resting your cheek on the crown of his head.

“You make me feel real,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your neck.

You were sure he could have felt the rapid thump of your heartbeat now. But his was beating just the same.

The words hung heavy between you. The feelings between you both had been unspoken since the beach. Though it was only a few weeks, the tension had only grown more with separation.

You didn’t know what to say, but you realised you didn’t need to say anything. Your lips pressed to his curls, tightening your arms around his shoulders.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do…

The warmth of your lips on his skin was like a wave of calm. A balm to his tortured mind. Your mere presence seemed to hold the ability to fix his problems.

One of the hands on your waist moved to hold your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm.

But when his eyes met yours this time, there was only one thing he wished to do.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. But every ounce of love and affection that he held for you into it. The arm around your waist pulling you ever tighter into his hold.

And when the kiss broke, your leaned down to rest your forehead against his. Everything felt different, in the best way.

He was yours and you were his. For just a moment, Jacaerys could pretend he was just a normal person. He was happy and loved for who he was.

And you silently vowed to make it so he would feel that way forever.

I could not ask you where you came from. I could not ask and neither could you…

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We could just kiss like real people do.

Jace Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

(if you want to be added/deleted, let me know)

#i love jacaerys #amazing surprise 🥹#thank you #my wifey lana #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #reblog

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legitalicat · 15 days ago

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Thank you my darling girl 💜💜💜💜

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY as AEGON II TARGARYEN HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022 - ), dir. ALAN TAYLOR 2X01 "A Son for a Son"

Happy birthday, my dearest @legitalicat 💜

#im trying not to cry #gif reblog #aegon ii targaryen

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legitalicat · 16 days ago

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Hello, thank you all who reblogged and liked Thorin's post. I appreciate the support. Now, it's time for part two of character sheets for Reclaiming a Home. Welcome, Amaryllis Baggins.

#SCREAMING #not literally cause i have neighbors #but you know what I'm doing #Reclaiming a Home #OC #aesthetic reblog #my lovely moots 💜

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legitalicat · 16 days ago

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NSFW Alphabet - Jacaerys Velaryon

AN: Thank you guys for celebrating with me! Tomorrow I will be taking the day to work on something I am so so passionate about, and hopefully one day I can share that with you all. This birthday has already been so special. Thank you all for sticking around and I hope you enjoy.

CW: Guys, it's NSFW. Viewer discretion is advised and whatnot. Oral, descriptions of physical body, penetrative sex, I tried to remain neutral on pronouns/lover's body

Alphabet below the cut.

A = Aftercare (for what they're like after sex)

Early in their sexual relationship, when they're still learning each other, he has no idea what aftercare is. Still, instinctually, he would help his partner clean themselves and make sure he was not too rough with them. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Once he is familiar with his partner and learns their needs, it's different. He would still help them get cleaned up, of course, but now there's more. He would make sure they had their favorite snack and drinks nearby and there would be an abundance of soft caresses and cuddles.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part on themselves and their partners)

Jace doesn't have a favorite body part on himself. He doesn't try to pretend otherwise.

His favorite part on his partner would be their lips. Everything about them would captivate him. The way they formed around the words they spoke, his lover's smile, to the way they look wrapped around his cock when his lover wants nothing more than to please him.

C = Cum

He never leaves an encounter with his lover without cumming inside. He had a deep seeded sense of duty to secure his line with an heir, and that would be at the forefront of his mind.

But even so, he couldn't help but love the way it marked his lover. There was something so enticing to him, knowing this was a privilege nobody else got to have with you.

D = Dirty Secret (only their partner can know)

His dirty secret stems from his biggest insecurity; his looks. He knew what people said about him. But when his lover showed him, repeatedly, everything they loved about him, he had never felt such a sense of euphoria.

They would treat him like he was crafted by the gods. Showering him with affection. Pleasuring themselves to nothing but the sight of him whenever he needed. He was worshipped by his lover and it was intoxicating.

E = Experience (how experienced are they)

Before marriage, Jacaerys never once indulges in sex. His position is precarious enough, his life haunted enough, he could never risk siring a child outside of marriage.

Once he's married, he wants to learn everything. Every way to pleasure his lover, every way to be pleasured. He refused to be anything but knowledgeable on their body.

F = Favorite Position

Any way he can have sex with his lover, get close and see their face. Missionary, mating press, his lover riding him while chest to chest. He wouldn't require them to look at him, not if it made them uncomfortable. He just needed to see his lover's face contort with pleasure with every deep thrust.

G = Goofy (Are they serious, are they silly?)

Initially, Jace was very serious. He was concerned with being princely, husbandly. He wanted to do his duty.

Once he warmed up to, and began to love, his partner, he was goofy as hell. Laughter would ring out in every awkward moment whereas before he would stay silent. He would playfully nip at you, tease you until you whined and begged. Anything he could do to make you smile in the moment.

H = Hair (how well groomed is he?)

Jacaerys wouldn't have a preference because he wouldn't care. His own grooming was done to his lover's preference. Though, naturally, it doesn't get too wild down there. His hair was curly and short enough to be almost self contained.

I = Intimacy (how are they with the romantic aspect?)

Every chance Jacaerys gets to be romantic, he chooses to be. He relishes in it. He wants to shower his lover in love and affection every moment.

Name days, anniversaries, any special occasion really, he'll get his lover a gift. A gift that they can wear. And he will dote on them as he makes love to them while they wear their gift.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanons)

Jacaerys loves mutual masturbation as a form of foreplay. He wants to get as close as possible to the edge without going over. If his lover cums during it, that’s good with him. He finds nothing quite as sexy as they sound when they orgasm. And when they would watch him stroke his cock, knowing his pleasure was tied to the way they looked themselves in that moment, they would get showy.

K = Kinks

Breeding kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dacryphilia

L = Location (favorite places)

Naturally, he loves having sex with his lover in the bed. It's good and intimate.

But there were 2 locations he loved most. One being on the back of his dragon Vermax. He was okay with the challenges it presented. There was nothing more exhilarating than being so high up, unable to be interrupted.

Then he loved to have sex on the Iron Throne. That has to be done carefully, late at night once everyone was in bed. But the idea that anyone could walk in and see the two of them drove him insane.

M = Motivation (what gets them in the mood)

Seeing his lover in gifts he gave them. If another Lord proved to be interested in his lover, and was particularly insistent upon getting their attention, his territorial side fanning the flames of desire. When he's fresh from a flight or from a hunt and he feels that adrenaline still coursing through his veins and he knows he can go for as long as you need. Seeing them cry, knowing he could fix it all.

N = No

He won't berate his lover. He may tease them about being needy or about them being so naughty for him. But the teasing would always remain light and airy, playful, and reciprocated. He could never downright be hateful and degrading. The mere thought of seeing you cry because of him was the opposite of sexy.

O = Oral (prefers giving or receiving?)

He loves receiving oral in foreplay. Never to make him cum, but to flood his entire body with desire.

However, he would much prefer giving. There is very little that will keep him from pleasuring his lover with his mouth for as long as they need. He would be sloppy in the best way, not caring about anything but their pleasure.

P = Pace (Do they prefer to be fast and rough, or slow and sensual?)

Jacaerys much prefers to be slow and sensual. He wants every moment to be exhilarating, passionate. His lover needs to feel every movement and inch of him. Even if he's being rough and more forceful in his movements, he doesn't feel the need to go fast.

Q = Quickie

Not a fan. He just personally wants to take his time. Every time he takes his partner to bed is special to him. A symbol of his love, of his commitment. It is not something he takes lightly. Quickies, he feels, disrespects that.

R = Risks (Are they willing to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Jacaerys wants to pleasure his lover any way he can. And considering he was a virgin upon his marriage, his entire sex life was built upon his willingness to experiment and take risks to discover what works and what doesn't.

S = Stamina (How many rounds and how long do they last?)

Initially, he has very little stamina. What could one expect from a man just beginning his sexual journey? But he made up for it by being able to go multiple rounds in a short amount of time. He was a young man in his prime, he was in the perfect position to recover quicker.

As years passed and he got more acquainted with sex, he was able to last longer. Hours, really, if given the chance. But he would never extend his time further than what his partner was comfortable with.

T = Toys (Would they own them? Would they use them?)

He would really not have a need for them. He himself would not want to be pleasured by anything but his lover, or his own hand for his lover's benefit. And truthfully, he would take issue with his lover using them. He would feel like a failure, and his relationship with them is the one place he felt prideful and sure of his place.

U = Unfair (How much do they tease?)

Only lightly. Always playful. He never takes it beyond remarking about his lover being so needy for him or getting them riled up for more than an hour. Mostly because it works him up too much to take too much time, and he would worry constantly about hurting their lover's feelings.

V = Volume (How loud are they? What do they sound like?)

Jacaerys would only be quiet if he needed to make sure they weren't caught. Otherwise, he would not limit the sounds coming from him. He loves hearing his lover, and knows his lover prefers hearing him.

He would moan and grunt a lot, but he would focus mostly on speaking to his lover. He would praise them and tell them how good they were, how good they felt. Repeatedly moaning his lover's name, whining the closer he was to cumming. He would grunt so loudly when he does cum one could mistake it for him yelling.

W = Wildcard

He would want his lover to be very scantily clad if not downright naked when they're in the privacy of their own chambers. At all times. Nobody would be permitted to enter, any matters were met at the door after knocking by him. His lover was art for him to behold, and he would worship the ground they walked on.

X = X-Ray (What's going on under their clothes?)

Jacaerys is the definition of “monster cock.” He is long, and he is thick. Every time he takes his lover, he needs to give them plenty of time to adjust. It was another reason quickies were a no go for him.

On top of that, he had “breeder balls”. They were large and heavy, slapping against his partner eagerly every time they had sex and filled with cum. Everything about him was meant to fuck and cum.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

For the first several weeks of the marriage, it was typical to not hear anything from the Prince or his partner. Jacaerys wanted more, all of the time. It eased as he got older and fell into a rhythm with his lover. Even still, once a day at a minimum was what he wanted.

Z = Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep afterward?)

If his day was spent at his leisure, he would never fall asleep before his lover. Making sure they were eased into a comfortable sleep was a high priority. But after a day of doing his princely duties, whatever they may be, he would fall asleep rather quickly. He couldn't go to sleep without partaking in his lover, feeling most at home in their bed and in their arms, but afterwards it was surprising if he stayed awake more than 5 minutes.

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Tags: @zaldritzosrose @thenameswinter99 (If you want to be tagged in future works, let me know!)

#house of the dragon #jacaerys valeryon #nsfw alphabet #birthday bash

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