#[ || Broken Vow || ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anon-e-miss · 19 days ago

Text

Broken Vows - 8

“‘M gonna go look at habs for ya when ya have a rest,” Jazz told Prowl. He avoided the glyph nap which seemed a little mocking to him. As his frame continued to integrate the delicate repairs and with a fragile self-respair systems, Prowl ran out of energy quickly and recharged off and on throughout the mega-cycle.

“Perhaps you might like to take Smokescreen with you?” Prowl offered. “He would benefit from fresh air.”

“Are ya sure?” Jazz asked.

“I trust you,” Prowl said.

“What about you and Blue?” Smokescreen asked.

“We need more rest than you, Bravespark,” Prowl told him. “I know it is not terribly fun for you when we recharge. There is a fine playground in the park your progenitor and I used to walk in.”

“I’d love to,” Jazz said. “What do ya say, Smokey?”

“Okay!”

“I’ll give ya a list o’ favourites,” Jazz offered Prowl. Prowl just shook his helm.

“I trust you and Smokescreen to select it,” he said. “You know how little I concerned myself with my habsuite.”

“A’ight,” Jazz said. “We’ll do our best.”

Smokescreen was nervous, Jazz knew. His genitor was nervous too. Jazz held Smokescreen’s servo in a firm grip as they walked down the hall and made their way to the tram that would drop them off at the metro. It was faster to drive, of course but Jazz was too nervous to drive Smokescreen and the mechling was far too young to drive on his own. Smokescreen would not have wheels of his own until he was a youngling. Sooner or later, Jazz would give him a ride somewhere but Smokescreen had already gotten lost once on his watch and he was not going to risk getting in a crash with him on their first trip off base. The media were all gone, having been chased off by the Primal Vanguard after Prime had given his speech. That did not mean there might not be opportunists who would sneak a quick shot but Jazz had a plan for that.

“I want ya to wear this,” Jazz told Smokescreen as he magnetized a small device to the collar of his armour.

“What’s it for?” Smokescreen asked.

“If anyone tries to take a picture o’ ya, this’ll scramble it,” Jazz told him. “I know yer ori don’t want yer face all o’er the news.”

“It was the same in Praxus,” Smokescreen said. “He didn’t want me in portraits. He didn’t want Blue either but he wasn’t allowed to say no.”

“‘M sorry yer Ori had to make that choice,” Jazz told him. “I’m sorry I bout’m in that spot.”

“Origin loves you,” Smokescreen said. “And it makes him sad. It always made him sad.”

“He’s got good reason, Sweetspark,” Jazz told him. “I broke his spark. I did it on purpose.”

“You were sick,” Smokescreen defended him and Jazz ruffled his helm. After everything Jazz had said and done, Prowl had excused him to their creation. It was a kindness Jazz did not think he deserved.

“Don’t make the damage any easier to live with, Bitlet,” he said.

“Hmm,” Smokescreen took a seat in the window and Jazz sat next to him. “You feel bad about it.”

“Sure do,” Jazz told him. “I didn’t know I’d kindled ya wit Prowl until I saw yer designation next to his on the casualties list. Even when I was better, I was too scared to face your Ori, even the memories o‘m so I didn’t read his letters, ‘n I lied to myself ‘bout how bad I’d behaved. I didn’t want to remember how bad I’d been. When I saw yer designation I had to face what a monster I’d been. I didn’t think I deserved to mourn ya, either o’ ya. But I needed to. I still carry the ultrasound photos he sent me.”

“Really?” Smokescreen asked. Jazz showed him the ultrasound. “I was just a blob.”

“We all start out that way.”

Jazz knew Smokescreen hoped his procreators would get back together and raise him and his brother together. It was something Jazz was a bit too scared to hope for himself. He loved Prowl dearly. With all the clarity in the world now, Jazz did not shy from this truth. The reality was, however he had hurt Prowl terribly and he had driven him away, laying the groundwork for the direction the Praxian’s life had taken. Every awful thing that had happened after could be placed at Jazz’s peds. At some point, if Prowl ever wanted to hear it, Jazz would like to apologize probably, to make sure he knew that Jazz took responsibility, that he had no excuses for everything he had said and done. He could not ask for a chance to be better for Prowl, for Smokescreen and for Bluestreak. Jazz would have to be better and to let the chips fall however they might.

“I know Origin’s originator and grandcreators were afts,” Smokescreen said. “What about yours? Origin never told me about them.”

“That’s ‘cause I never told’m,” Jazz explained. “My genitors were split-spark twins. They died in a riot in Polyhex ‘n losin’em broke my Ori ’n made ‘m go mad... sorta like I did, I guess. Me ‘n my brother, my twin split up... blamin’ different mecha for what happened. I know they’re alive but that’s all I know.”

“You got better,” Smokescreen said. “I bet he will too.”

Counterpunch had sent Jazz another of his rants that light-cycle. As always, it made no sense. There was no threat to Jazz in particular or the Autobots in general. It was just random glyphs, not even in sentences but almost just splattered across the page. Because Counterpunch did not know he had creations, because Punch had always considered his family to be his and not his alter’s, that he even had the code to the commlink Jazz had only ever shared with his family was still a bit unnerving. Talk of a mechanical spark and grinding gears, even when Jazz read it together with the other notes he had received lately, he found no meaning in it. He wondered if Ricochet got notes like these. His twin would never tell him. Ricochet had blamed Sentinel Prime for the deaths of their progenitors and the madness of their originator, in hindsight Jazz understood why. Ricochet did not forgive Jazz lending is allegiance to that prime as Jazz had blamed terrorists who had worn the Decepticon brand. Whether Ricochet called himself a Decepticon or freelanced, as had been the family business, Jazz did not know. He had not spoken to his twin in millenia and had not laid optics on him for even longer.

“This is our stop,” Jazz took Smokescreen servo and led him down the escalator and out onto the street.

It was just around the corner from Mirror’s, nearer than even Prowl’s old hab and been and a short walk to the park. There were other habsuite on his list to look at but if this one was even close to as good as the ad had suggested, he thought it would be perfect. Smokescreen, of course, would be the one to cast the deciding vote. The property manager shook Smokescreen’s servo after he shook Jazz’s and that was a point in his favour. There were lots of families in the building, or so said the manager and that was a point for the building. No one had lived in the habsuite for a while so it was a completely blank slate. Imagining how it might be set up was not a problem to Jazz. He laughed as Smokescreen ran about, checking every room. The mechling definitely needed sometime in the park to release some energy.

“This room for Origin, because it has a pretty view,” Smokescreen pulled Jazz along for a tour. “This room’s for Blue because its right next door. This rooms for me and this rooms for my grandori and uncle when they come to visit.”

“He’s so sweet,” the property manager said. “And so well behaved.”

“His Ori gets all the credit,” Jazz replied.

“Origin’s going to love it,” Smokescreen declared as they left, key card stored in Jazz’s subspace. As Jazz was an officer in the Autobot Corp, the property manager was quick to sign the habsuite over to Jazz, even having never met the principle tenant. Security was good, it would be better when Jazz added encryptions to the lock. Smokescreen had picked a good room for Prowl, it had a few of the park. He would love it.

“He’ll love that ya picked it for’m,” Jazz said. “How ‘bout we go to the park now ‘n ya can run ‘round like a wild mechanimal?”

“Okay!”

“And who is this?” Jazz jumped. The voice was husky. He knew without looking that it belonged to a wispy femme about his originator’s age.

“Dipole!” Jazz exclaimed. He had met her when she had returned from burying her progenitor. The funds that had seen her get there had been stolen and Prowl had hunted the thief down and returned them too her.

“I’m Smokescreen, Ms Dipole!”

“You look just like your Origin, doin’t you?” Dipole said. “Mirror mentioned you stopped by, to pick up a peace offering. Than she saw the news and she’s been as close to a wreck as I’ve ever seen her.”

“Mirror makes the yummy rust sticks, right?” Smokescreen asked.

“That’s right,” the femme replied.

“Prowl’s got some more healin’ to do but he’ll visit soon,” Jazz promised.

“Mirror always thought of Prowl as something of an adoptive grandcreation,” Dipole said. “What with him being all but orphaned.”

“Can we say hi?” Smokescreen asked.

“Uh...” Jazz thought on it. “I don’t want to take the wind outta yer Ori’s sails, Bravespark.”

“Eh?”

“I thought yer Ori outta be the one to introduce ya to Mirror,” Jazz said.

“He won’t mind,” Smokescreen said. “Especially if we bring more rust sticks. And... if Ms Mirror is worried about Origin, she’ll feel better and Origin’ll feel better knowing she’s not worrying anymore.”

“He is very clever,” Dipole said.

“All credit goes to his Ori,” Jazz replied. “Okay, we’ll say hi to Mirror.”

“They were really buried for vorns?” Dipole asked, softly as they headed to the bakery.

“Yeah,” Jazz replied.

“Mirror wouldn’t look at the casualty list,” Dipole explained. “After he said goodbye, she always figured he’d come back. She said he belonged here and not in Praxus but... well he never came back and then Praxus was gone. She didn’t want to know because if she didn’t know than she could imagine he was well, wherever he was.”

“I promise he’s okay now,” Jazz said. “He thought Smokey outta get out ‘n get some exercise while ‘m ‘n the bitty rest more.”

“It’ll be good to see him,” Dipole said. “He was always one of Mirror’s favourites.”

#anon-e-miss writes #valveplug #maccadams #mechpreg #tf prowl #tf jazz #tf smokescreen #tf bluestreak #tf dipole #broken vows #long fic #mental illness

41 notes · View notes

1800-fight-me · 2 years ago

Text

Broken Vows Part Two

Part One Part Three Epilogue

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: E - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Explicit sex, infidelity, angst (also some fluff!), canon level sexism, the reader is a lady of a great house but the house is unspecified and the reader has no description. (As a forewarning, though this story has dark themes and tons of angst it absolutely will have a happy ending!)

Word count: A little over 6k

Synopsis: How long will you be able to hide your son’s true parentage and control your desires for Aemond?

Author’s note: Part two is finally here!! There will be a part three!! Thank you so so much to my lovely beta readers @just-here-for-the-moment and @lady-phasma y’all are the best!! P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! Come interact with me! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Aemond Masterlist Part Three Sneak Peek

“You asked for me, mother?” Aemond said as he strode into Alicent’s quarters.

“Yes, sit with me,” she said as she reached her hand out to him and smiled gently.

He placed his hand in hers and squeezed it softly as he sat on the couch next to her.

“I have news and wanted to share it with you before you heard it from any others,” she said.

He nodded and waited for her to continue.

“Lady Stark has given birth to a child. A son,” she said carefully as she attempted to gauge her son’s reaction.

Aemond pursed his lips and swallowed as he processed the information.

He nodded once again.

“We should offer the Starks our congratulations on their happy news,” he said, his voice rough with concealed emotion.

“I have already sent a letter. It was only about eight or nine months ago she was here in person,” she said.

“Hm.”

“Aemond,” she sighed.

He stared at her as his mind churned like the sea with this new information.

“I know you have always loved her,” Alicent said gently.

“Hm,” Aemond clenched his jaw and turned his face to avoid her gaze.

“Tell me my fears are not true,” she begged.

“What fears do you speak of, mother?” he asked, his voice hard, though he of course knew what she meant.

“I do not wish to say it for fear it is true,” she said as she looked at her brokenhearted son.

“Then there is nothing to say. I shall take my leave, I have responsibilities that need to be attended to,” he said as he stood swiftly.

“Aemond,” she protested as she grabbed his arm.

He swallowed and pursed his lips before he turned back to face her.

At the barely concealed anguish on his face she sighed and let him go.

Aemond marched straight to the training courtyard for his thoughts were swirling and spiraling and he was unable to make sense of his emotions.

Sir Criston was there and after a few curt words they began to spar.

Aemond’s chest heaved as he blocked and parried Sir Criston’s blows. He couldn’t decide if he was trying to avoid his feelings or straighten his thoughts enough to sort through them.

Hours passed and his sparring partner changed multiple times but still Aemond did not stop.

Sweat dripped down his face as he fought and fought and fought.

He raged against the need inside him to call upon Vaghar and fly north immediately.

The last man in the courtyard bowed out and called the fighting to an end.

Aemond stood alone with only the moon as a light.

He threw down his weapons and stomped his way to the dragon pit.

He resisted the urge to punch the stone wall for it would surely only break his hand and not offer the relief he was looking for if hours of training were any indication.

Soon he and Vaghar soared through the skies.

An experience that usually brought him peace and comfort, but now did little in the face of the torment his soul currently faced.

Good gods, what had he fucking done.

There was, of course, a chance the child was not his.

What was he doing, was he going to fly to Winterfell and start a war by taking away Lord Stark’s wife?

You should be his. He despised the circumstances life had put you and him in.

He should be there to hold you and his child and kiss you both.

If the child was not his, he felt nearly just as broken hearted at the thought. You should be his wife and bear his children and be filled with his love and care.

Vaghar reached the border to the North and cold pelting rain began to pour.

With gasping breaths Aemond commanded her to land.

He climbed off and slid to his knees on the muddy ground.

The rain streaked down his face along with tears.

He could not go to Winterfell and take you away. He could not start a war over a child he was not sure was his and any attempts to see you and the babe would endanger you more than he already had with his reckless love led actions.

As he screamed in anguish, Vaghar roared in empathy for her broken rider.

_______________________

One month later

“My lady, here are some letters for you,” your lady’s maid Brienne said after you laid your sleeping son down in his crib.

“Oh, thank you, you can put them on the desk there. I’ll look through them later,” you said.

“I think you want to look at this now and not leave it lying around,” she said, her voice strongly toned.

You looked up at her in surprise as she placed the letters on your desk but handed one of them to you.

You gasped softly as you recognized the handwriting and seal upon it.

“I see,” you murmured.

She stared at you, and with a loving but reprimanding tone she told you she was taking her leave to give you privacy.

The letter was addressed to you, though it was written with your maiden name rather than addressed to Lady Stark.

You took a deep breath.

You opened it with shaking hands and saw the one worded message.

“Congratulations,” it stated in a careful cursive scrawl you were all too familiar with from years of passing childhood notes.

It was signed, “Aemond Targaryen”.

Your heart pounded as your fingers grazed the letters your lover had written. He had made a carefully calculated decision when he wrote and sent you this letter.

He had not put anything incriminating in it, though it was certainly suspicious on its own for you to receive a personal letter from the prince.

But you knew what this letter meant. It meant that he knew. He knew you had a child and at the very least he suspected it was his. He was also, in the most formal way he could, offering you his love and affection for your efforts to bear a child. You wished you could tell him that your son was his.

You could not send him any sort of confirmation or acknowledgement back, it was too dangerous.

You wiped the tears from your eyes as your heart burned from his loving gesture.

You hid the letter in a drawer and pulled it out and traced the words again and again when you missed him.

_______________________

Two years later

“No,” you said stubbornly.

“Do my ears deceive me? Surely you did not refuse your Lord Husband,” Cregon seethed at you through clenched teeth.

“I said, no,” you said as you glared at him.

“It is a royal decree! We must go! You cannot refuse the King! We have already turned down two royal invitations from both the Queen Regent and the Queen Mother since our son was born, all due to your excuses” he yelled as he threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

“Fine, then you go without me,” you said and he sighed deeply.

“Woman, your stubbornness knows no bounds. If you wish to remain in Winterfell then I suppose Eddard and I can-”

“No. You will not take my son away from me. He is only two years old. He needs his mother. You can go yourself,” you said angrily.

“The King requested our entire family! Not just me! What is this sudden change in attitude you appear to have? I thought you had fond memories of your childhood in the Red Keep, do you not wish to visit again? Your father will be there. He is ill and it is unlikely you will have many more chances to see him before his life ends.”

“My father is the last person I want to see. You would know that if you knew anything at all about me,” you practically spat at him.

He rolled his eyes.

“I am the Lord of this house and you will obey my words. We will all depart for King’s Landing in a week’s time. That is final,” he said as he left your chambers and slammed the door behind him.

You collapsed into the closest chair and buried your face in your hands as you attempted to take deep calming breaths.

You feared that the dangerous game you’d been playing of hiding your child’s parentage could soon be over once he was seen in the same room as his true father.

Though the child was a near copy of you, his silver hair and the shape of his lips clearly marked him as Aemond’s child.

As you lived in the cold north you frequently kept a hat on his head so rumors would not spread but that would prove impossible in the warm climate of King’s Landing.

Rumors that you were an overprotective mother and that he was a sickly child due to you always keeping him bundled up and close to you ran rampant, but according to Brienne, there were no speculations on his parentage. Truly, she was one of the few people who had ever seen the color of his hair including your husband and the maesters.

You decided to cut his hair shorter prior to the trip, it would not hide the color but perhaps it would draw the eye less.

Gods help you.

Weeks later, your nerves frayed as the carriage you and your son were in grew closer and closer to the Red Keep.

“Listen to me, my little dragon heart,” you whispered at your son as he sat in your lap, grateful that your husband had decided to ride in the front of the group rather than in your carriage for the last leg of the trip.

He looked up at you, his face solemn and so like the expressions you used to frequently see on Aemond.

“You are to stay close to me, okay? This is a new place and I want you by my side always,” you urged and he nodded.

He wrapped his arms around you and snuggled close into your chest.

“Hold hands?” he asked

You grinned at his adorable question and nodded.

“Yes, when we leave the carriage we shall hold hands,” you said and placed a kiss to the top of his head.

You pulled a light hat onto his head and hoped he would keep it on until you got to your rooms.

Finally the carriage stopped and with your son on your hip you took your husband’s hand and stepped out into the courtyard of the Red Keep.

You looked up to see the Queen Mother and the Queen Consort there to greet you.

You took a deep breath and gulped.

As you walked forward, your son wiggled out of your arms. You placed him on the ground and held his hand to allow him to toddle next to you as you strode towards the queens.

Heleana clearly still cared little for decorum as she immediately embraced you.

“Hello dear friend,” you said to her as you hugged her back.

“It has once again been far too long,” she said and you agreed with her.

“Hello Lord and Lady Stark, you are most welcome here,” Alicent said as you and Helaena ended your embrace.

You smiled and curtseyed and she smiled back.

“Thank you, my queens, we are happy for our long travels to be over,” Cregon said politely.

“The King regrets that he could not be here to receive you, he had urgent matters to attend to, but will surely see you at the feast this evening,” Alicent said and your husband nodded.

Alicent then embraced you while Helaena knelt down and greeted your son.

“It is good to see you,” she whispered to you.

“You as well,” you said.

She pulled back and with a look at your son asked you, “May I?”

You nodded nervously as she picked up your son and looked at him.

“Hello, handsome,” she said to him with a gentle smile.

“Hi!” he said with a grin.

“It is far too warm for this hat,” she said in concern with a glance at you and then pulled it off his head.

You held in your protests and when she saw his hair, she did not look at you in shock.

She ran a hand over his full head of snow white hair as she smiled and made cooing noises at him.

“He is a beautiful boy,” she said as she handed him to you, and her gaze lingered on you, far too knowing.

“Thank you, your grace,” you said, your heart still in your throat.

You were led into your rooms, again the same room you grew up in, with your husband’s room next door.

You were quickly settled, though your nerves seemed to be unable to settle as easily.

Thankfully your father sent you a messenger to tell you he was feeling too ill to attend tonight’s feast. At least you could delay that confrontation for another day. Though your father was a stubborn and unkind man, he was not an idiot and would immediately know your child was sired by Aemond rather than your husband once he saw him.

That night at the feast you were quiet and reserved as you attempted to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. A feat that was markedly more difficult due to Aemond’s stares.

It was clear he wanted to speak with you, though he would not do so in front of others.

Your son was not allowed at the feast, thankfully this was an event without children, but rather than allowing the castle servants to care for him, he was safely tucked away in your chambers with Brienne. The fewer people in the Red Keep that saw him, the better.

Your desire for Aemond was kept better in control due to your need for survival and the importance of the safety of your child.

Both your lives could be forfeit should your husband discover your betrayal and treachery.

So, you avoided Aemond’s gaze and other than a cursory nod during the initial greetings, you refused to acknowledge him.

His fire still burned within you, however. If only you could fall into his arms, introduce him to his child that you love so dearly, be his and his alone.

But you could not dwell on what could have, or perhaps even should have, been.

Toasts made their rounds and Cregon and several other noblemen paid their tributes to the King.

Your hopes that this dull affair would end quickly were dashed when Aemond stood and raised his cup as he stared at your husband.

Then he looked at you. You stopped breathing.

He said your name, not your title, your first name, and it sounded all too familiar as it fell from his lips.

“To you and Lord Stark,” he purred, you knew he would never refer to you as Lady Stark for in his mind you were and always would be his.

“And the son you have brought into this world, the little Lord Stark, I hear he is exceptionally handsome. Congratulations,” he said, voice like silk but dripping with cockiness.

Everyone toasted with him and you took a large gulp of your wine.

You schooled your expression and did everything in your power not to glare at the prince.

You nodded back at him.

“Thank you, my prince! What kind words!” Cregon said as he patted your shoulder and grinned, oblivious and stupid as ever.

Of course he did not pick up on Aemond’s veiled intentions, either to jab at your husband or to get a rise out of you to test his already rapidly forming assumptions.

You forced a smile at him and Aemond, who smirked before he sat back down in his seat.

After the feast, you returned to your quarters to find little Ned already fast asleep in his adjoining room. You dismissed Brienne gratefully for the night after she helped you undress and put on your nightgown.

You were thankful that your husband had a separate room next door and that he did not attempt to bother you that night.

You fell asleep, thoughts full of Aemond and the heated looks he sent you.

You felt the bed behind you shift as someone laid down behind you.

A large hand was placed on your waist and you groaned in annoyance.

“Not tonight, Cregon,” you practically hissed in anger that you were now awake.

“I find myself offended that you would mistake me for that piece of shit,” you heard Aemond’s voice say behind you and you gasped.

You rolled over quickly and saw his face in the flickering firelight.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper- yelled.

You didn’t need to ask him how he snuck into your rooms for he had done so nearly nightly through the hidden tunnels in your shared youth.

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” he said as he smirked at you and gripped your waist a little tighter.

“After the shit you pulled at dinner?” you snapped at him and he chuckled darkly.

“Tell me the truth of it. My mother is correct, yes? The child is mine. I would like to see him.”

He pulled your body close to him so your chest was flush against his.

“Aemond,” you whimpered as you shook your head.

“You look beautiful tonight, dear heart,” he murmured as he ran his nose against your cheek.

“You endanger me and my son,” you whispered as your body began to shake with need for him.

The heat of his body against yours, his familiar scent, the comfort of his large calloused hand on your waist, all combined made your head swirl as if you were drunk on him.

“Our son,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to yours.

You could not hold yourself back from kissing him with passion and desperation.

“Hm,” he hummed, clearly pleased, as he pulled himself back from you.

“Tell me, my love. I want to hear it from your perfect lips,” he whispered as gently ran his fingers up your arm and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“Yes, Aemond,” you gasped out as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. He gently pushed you back so you laid on your back and covered your body with his.

“He is your son, the child was born of our love,” you whispered the forbidden truth and he groaned in response as his lips trailed down your neck.

He pulled back and pressed a kiss to your wanting lips.

“I will protect you both,” he vowed and you nodded with tears in your eyes.

His hands roamed your body possessively as his lips trailed down, lower.

“I am still cross with you,” you said with a gasp, though it was difficult to sound serious as your body was filled with the pleasure only he can provide you.

“Be cross with me. Tell me of it. Yell at me. Break my heart. Just be with me, allow me to be in your presence, allow me to love you. I thought I could survive this life without you, but I find it unbearable. Be mine, and mine alone,” he said passionately between kisses to your chest and stomach as he rucked up your nightgown, his voice low and fervent.

Your eyes filled with tears.

“Yes,” you gasped out.

His mouth reached near your core and you tangled your fingers in his hair and forced him to look at you, to meet your gaze.

“My heart has always, always, belonged to you and you alone. But tell me, my love. How do we survive this? How do we-”

“Leave it to me,” he said darkly and he spread your legs before he licked you exactly where you so desperately wanted him.

“Aemond,” you whimpered and you slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans of pleasure as he gave you what you’d been dreaming of for years.

“Good gods, I have craved your taste,” he groaned deeply into your dripping heat.

You whimpered.

His tongue circled your clit and your breath sped up as you neared your peak far quicker than you ever had before. Your body was desperate for him and just his presence was enough to make you come.

“I’m going to-”

He pulled back and you gasped in shock and anger that he would stop when you were so close.

You sat up to better meet his gaze and he smirked.

“Tell me you are mine,” he commanded.

You took a shuddering breath.

“I’m yours, yours, only yours, my love,” you whimpered.

He growled low in his throat in satisfaction before he buried himself between your legs again.

You fell back onto your back again and bit down on your hand to muffle your sounds as you came harder than you had in years.

You panted as you attempted to catch your breath, but he didn’t give you any time as he crawled his way up your body and kissed you deeply.

You wrapped your legs around his trim waist and he buried his hardened length deep inside you.

He moaned into your mouth as his tongue danced with yours.

“You feel so good, so fucking perfect,” you groaned.

“As do you, my love,” he murmured with a kiss to your jaw.

He began slow thrusts that made you feel so perfectly full you couldn’t stop yourself from whining his name.

Your hands roamed his body, you relished in the feeling of his skin against yours and his tight muscles as he moved within you.

“You are mine,” you whispered to him and he sped his thrusts as he groaned deeply.

He hit the spot inside you that made your brain go fuzzy and you moaned loudly.

He covered your mouth with his large hand and began to pound into you.

You continued to whine, but your sounds were now muffled.

No other words were needed as you stared deeply into his eye and his sapphire eye glimmered in the low firelight.

You watched pleasure overtake his expression as he grew closer to his release.

He pulled out of you and stroked himself, only a couple times, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time, before he came and his seed spread across your stomach and chest.

You reached for his arm and grabbed it before you yanked him down on top of you again and kissed him soundly.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

“You are the love of my life,” he murmured and kissed you again.

———

“I wish to see him,” Aemond whispered in your ear as his fingers traced gentle patterns across your bare stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair as it draped across his shoulder and spilled onto your chest and said, “I know, but it is late. And he is asleep.”

“I will be quiet,” he said and you nodded, unable to keep him from his child, your own selfish heart also desired to see him meet his son for the first time.

“Get dressed, then,” you said as you reached for your nightgown and placed it back on your body.

He was quickly dressed and you took his hand and led him to the door that joined your room with little Ned’s.

“Do not wake him, he is starting to speak and if he babbles something to Cregon about a white haired man in his room at night there will be hell to pay,” you whispered and Aemond smirked and nodded.

You cracked open the door and as you saw him still sleeping you led your love into the room.

You smiled as you looked upon your child sleeping so peacefully.

You then looked up at Aemond and saw that he had unshed tears in his eye.

“He is perfect. He looks so much like you, my love,” Aemond whispered as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You bit your lip as joyous tears made their way down your cheeks.

“He looks like you as well, sometimes he looks at me and I swear he wears the exact same expressions as you,” you whispered with a smile in your voice.

Aemond chuckled softly in joyous wonder.

You tugged on his hand and led him back into your room and shut the door quietly behind you.

Aemond was staring at you in awe.

“When no one is around I call him my little dragon heart,” you said to him with a small, almost bashful, smile.

He stepped closer to you and kissed you with a ferocity that took your breath away.

“I love you,” he groaned into your mouth as he led you back to your bed.

His hands shed you of your clothing at breakneck speeds and you could hardly breathe as he gripped your waist and pushed you back onto the bed.

“Aemond,” you gasped.

“I love you,” he said again, his tone strong as he laid himself atop you and kissed you desperately.

His tongue tangled with yours and you moaned as his fire once again filled you.

“Aemond, I love you as well, but slow down-”, you whispered as he pulled back with a wild look in his eye.

“I wish, no I need to fill you again. I need to fill you with my child again,” he panted and you could not deny the rush of arousal that flooded you at his words.

“My love, we cannot. We must continue to take precautions. One white haired Stark child is dangerous enough, but two?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. You placed your hand on his cheek and he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“Soon, I swear to you, I will remedy this and you and our child will be mine and mine alone. And I will fill you with my children until I can see you round with my child myself,” he promised and you whimpered in desire.

“That is my true desire,” you said and he kissed you, softly this time.

“You are perfect and so is our beautiful son you have brought into this world.” he said and you smiled.

“My prince, how you flatter me,” you teased.

“Hm,” was his only response before he kissed you again until you couldn’t think of any more teasing retorts.

_____________

“Do you wish things could be different?” Helaena asked you the next morning as you sat in the private sanctuary of the Godswood with her, her children, and your child.

You basked in the warm sunlight, something you got so little of in the north.

“What does wishing do but cause pain?” you asked her and she nodded.

Her children giggled as they ran around little Ned and he toddled after them.

“Are there things you wish were different?” you asked her curiously.

“I wish you were here more often, none of the other ladies of court are as kind as you,” she confessed and you reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Truthfully, I wish for that as well.”

“The children seem to be getting along well,” she observed and you laughed.

“Yes, Ned doesn’t often get to play with other children so he’s thrilled.”

“He’s so cute!” Jaehaera squealed as Ned giggled and chased after her.

“Mother, is he our cousin?” Jaehaerys asked Helaena.

You pursed your lips, you were worried something like this might happen.

“No, he is a Stark,” his mother replied and he just stared at her confused.

“But he looks like us? I thought only Targaryens had white hair,” he said with a bluntness that only children can achieve.

You coughed awkwardly.

“Uncle Aemond!” Jaehaera yelled in excitement as Aemond walked towards the group of you.

The twins squealed and ran to him and little Ned trailed after them once again, but fell down and sat there while he watched them.

“Hello, little ones, are you enjoying your day?” he asked them as both twins clung to each of his legs.

They babbled over one another, each talking rapidly, and he grinned.

“Uncle, uncle, look! Look at our new friend, little Ned! Isn’t he the cutest?”

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys ran back to Ned and grabbed each of his hands and led him to Aemond.

Aemond knelt down on the ground and smiled softly.

“Hello,” he said gently.

Ned looked back at you and you nodded at him encouragingly.

“Say Hi, Ned,” you urged and he grinned.

“Hi!” he exclaimed and then promptly reached out and yanked Aemond’s long hair.

You placed a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh.

Aemond chuckled as he reached out and detangled his hair from Ned’s chubby little fingers.

“You are trouble, handsome boy,” Aemond teased and Ned and the other children giggled.

Ned then ran over to you and threw himself on your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair and hugged him.

“Did you say hello to Prince Aemond, my little dragon heart?” you asked him and he nodded at you with a grin.

You did not miss the way Helaena looked at you in surprise at your words, but chose to ignore her for you knew she would never betray you and Aemond.

The twins continued to bounce around Aemond as he strode over to where you and Helaena were sitting.

“Aem-” Ned tried to say but looked at you in confusion as he forgot the second half of the word.

“Aemond,” you said to him, slowly so he could imitate you and pronounce it.

“Yes, my lady?” Aemond asked you cheekily and you smirked at him.

“Aemond,” Ned said slowly and actually pronounced the word correctly.

“Good job, my love,” you said and you kissed him on the cheek.

“It is my name, do I not get a kiss as well?” Aemond asked and you shot him a reprimanding look that caused him to smirk.

Your son slid from your lap and walked over to Aemond where he sat next to Helaena and climbed onto his lap with unexpected boldness.

Aemond smiled and pushed his hair behind his shoulders where it would be safe from little hands before he held onto his son.

You pressed your lips together and attempted to control your emotions as you watched your son sit on his father’s lap for the first time.

“Aemond,” Ned said again as he reached for his father’s face. Aemond allowed the boy to caress his cheek and then did the same back to him.

“Are you alright?” Helaena whispered to you and you realized you were crying.

You sniffled and quickly wiped away the stray tears.

“Yes of course,” you whispered back but as Aemond met your gaze you could tell he was feeling emotional as well.

Soon, your son, being a typical little boy, got bored and wiggled off Aemond’s lap to once again run around with the twins.

Aemond spent the better part of an hour with you, Helaena, and the children, and you felt happier than you had been in years.

Before you left, you looked up at the Red Keep and saw your husband where he stood and watched you from a balcony. Your heart jumped into your throat and you worried about what all he had seen and whether or not he would put the pieces together and become doubtful and suspicious of you.

He turned and left as soon as he saw you spotted him.

________________

Your husband strode into your room that evening.

You looked up at him in surprise.

Honestly, you hadn’t seen much of him the entirety of this trip and you liked it that way. You also hoped against hope that he had only spotted you and Ned in the Godswood after Aemond left.

“Good evening,” you said to him as he sat in the chair opposite you before the hearth.

Ned sat on the floor and played with toys while he babbled.

“I came to inform you that we shall be departing for Winterfell earlier than planned,” he said.

“Why?” you asked carefully.

“First you did not want to come and now you do not wish to leave? Is there no pleasing you, woman?” he asked sharply.

You took a deep steadying breath to quell your temper.

“Aemond,” Ned said with a giggle.

Your heart stopped and you felt as if you could vomit from the tension.

Cregon looked at him in shock and then at you with anger.

“Why is he talking about the prince?” he asked, danger in his voice.

“Oh, we spent time with the queen and her children today and the prince came for a while. He was learning all their names and it seems the prince’s name was easiest for him to remember and pronounce,” you said as casually as you could.

“I see,” he said as if he didn’t believe you at all.

“And did the king happen to come by as well?” he asked.

You snorted, “Of course not.”

“What is it you have against the king?” he asked in an accusing tone.

You sighed. “I told you he is dangerous and you need to be careful around him.”

“And what of the one eyed prince? Many say he is cruel and dangerous as well, yet you appear to be fine with him being near our son,” he said angrily.

“I-I had no choice. What am I to say to a prince of the realm?”

He huffed and glared at you, but you knew it meant he had no retort back and you had won the argument.

His suspicion, however, worried and stressed you.

You had told him, years ago, that you and Aemond were close as children like everyone said, but had a falling out when you were older so he would not question the tension between the two of you and instead write it off as being due to residual anger and hurt feelings.

It seemed that lie was no longer enough to dissuade his concerns. Your marriage was a teetering tower of lies that only a gust of wind could topple.

“The festivities come to a close tomorrow, we leave the day after,” he said firmly with a glare that prevented you from protesting, then he stormed out.

That night when Aemond arrived in your chambers, you walked swiftly to him and clung to him.

“He says we will be leaving for Winterfell the day after tomorrow, Aemond,” you said, near panic as you looked up at his face.

He pressed his lips together in frustration.

“Do not let him take me away again. I-I can’t survive it. I want to be with you. I want to be home. Aemond, I can’t, please-” you gasped out as hot tears fell from your eyes and streaked down your face.

“Shhhh,” he held you tighter and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I promised you I would protect you and our son, did I not?” he said calmly.

You nodded, your face still pressed into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat calmed your frayed nerves.

“This is a mere stumbling block to my plans, but one I shall resolve. You will not be forced to leave my side again, dear heart. I promise you that,” his voice was deep and reassuring as he rubbed your back.

“He is suspicious,” you warned.

“Do not fret. I shall handle it,” he said.

You nodded and sniffled as you attempted to stop the tears.

“I am scared,” you admitted in a small voice.

“Do you trust me?” he asked as he placed a hand on your cheek and jaw and tilted your head up so you could meet his gaze.

“Of course,” you breathed out. “With my life.”

“Then trust in my promise,” he said gently.

You nodded and he kissed you, soft and slow and reassuring.

He deepened the kiss and as you tasted a mix of him and the saltiness of your tears, your worries began to melt away.

To be continued….

Part Three Epilogue

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen angst #broken vows #aemond targaryen fanfic

632 notes · View notes