#“he loved her much more than he ever did rhaenyra” how about you never open your mouth on rhaenyra ever in your life?

[lady-corrine]

Anons like these (and many other posts far more hateful that I won't bother to enumerate here) is why I won't ever care about Laena. Not now, not ever god bless 🫶

[jacespookiebear]

.ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 1

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen. 

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, sexual content, tension, age gap (reader is about 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, events do take place in hotd, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

The dreary atmosphere in the chambers that were occupied by Queen Aemma’s birthing was soon vanished and was replaced by sudden cries that did not belong to the Prince Baelon but a Princess.

“Your grace, it appears she had carried another babe. It is a girl,” the maester carefully wrapped the babe in a cloth before bringing her to King Viserys, “a very healthy one, in fact, what will she be named?” Viserys couldn’t believe his eyes as the babe kept wailing for her mother but in an instant, he held the babe with much affection and love while he cried.

On that day, the realm has lost their Queen and Prince but has gained another Princess, named (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

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Gently pressing your hands onto the old dragon, Meraxes, who you bonded with for years now. You began caressing her white scales as she leans into your touch—wanting to keep being the eye of your attention before you pulled away and started heading your way back to the castle in your personal carriage

“Meraxes seems to be growing even more each year, my Princess. Might be even larger than the Black Dread soon enough.” Lysanna, your Lady-in-Waiting, nervously utter as you laughed. You have been forcing her to feed Meraxes for weeks now—you never seen the young girl sweat so much while handing your dragon food.

You handed your gloves to Lysanna for safekeeping and she pocketed them in her coat. You both reached inside the castle. You had wanted to check up on your sister as she was to be expected in labor soon but first you headed to your father’s chambers to see how well he’s doing.

You opened the doors with Lysanna by your side, “Ah! My young girl…what brings you here, my sweet child?” your father, Viserys, lights up to see his daughter visiting.

Like always, he’s sitting by the windows and sculpting. The architecture has increased in size each year ever since you were just a babe. He would always lecture about his creation with you on his lap. Till this day, it still amazes you that he created this.

“I do not need a reason to see my father. I was on my way back from the dragon keep,” you sat in front of him, raising your hands to grab his in order to place a kiss on it, “Meraxes also wishes good fortune. She even cried out for my attentiveness today.”

To your words of Meraxes, Lysanna slightly giggles.

“Of course,” he brings his attention back to his sculpting, “you remind that dragon of Rhaenys Targaryen, the wife of Aegon the Conqueror. Whether you like to believe it or not.”

It is true. You have been often compared to the late Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, you both shared similarities. Perhaps that is the main reason why Meraxes chose you to be her new dragon rider.

“Have you considered the Queen’s offer?”

You turned your head back to your father—who looked rather serious. You could only gulp and rub your hands anxiously, “about…the betrothal to Aegon..? I can’t say I had put much thought to it.”

The atmosphere in the room changed quickly, you felt. You didn’t want to spend your precious time with your father talking about betrothals. You wished to be free from marriage and children as much as you can.

“The Princess is right, my King,” Lysanna spoke up, there was no evidence of nervousness in her voice, “she has been under much stress due to Princess Rhaenyra’s upcoming labors..”

The thought of marrying your young brother scared you tremendously, knowing how he treats the handmaidens—including you, Helaena, and even Lysanna. You did not wish to be betrothed just yet, especially to a man like your brother.

You cleared your throat and sighed, “If you do not wish to be betrothed, my sweet girl then I understand,” your father promises as you looked up with eyes that were prickled with small tears, “I will give you all the time in the world.”

“Thank you, my King.”

Although there was a slight crack in your tone, you certainly appreciated your father’s patience and understanding. You seemed to feel guilt for wanting to put off opportunity of marriage for as long as you can but you are certain you won’t have much time before you are forced to be betrothed.

With your thoughts disappearing, Viserys only looked at you with a soft smile and placed a kiss on your cheek. You got up from your seat and headed out with Lysanna.

After leaving his chambers, you walked all over the castle to find Rhaenyra’s chambers, you pass by lords and ladies who would bow out of curtesy. It was clear they all know you had just visited the King. As you place your hand over Lysanna’s in an affectionate way,

“Thank you for stepping in. I could not last another second talking about marriage, especially with father.”

Lysanna looked over to you—she was obviously feeling upset for you. She had voiced her concerns many times about how she did not want you to be married off to Aegon. No—you deserve better than that.

“If I could, I would do anything for you to not be wedded off to that boy,” she said with ease, paying no mind to the people around you both, “I would rather have you be betrothed to my brother just so we could be sisters and both be ladies of Winterfell.”

At the thought of living out the rest of your days in Winterfell, you could only laugh. Maybe your life would’ve been more easier and happier if you were to be living in the North. Lysanna had told you many stories about Winterfell, it only left you wanting to visit the cold Castle even more. It even meant you could always be with Lysanna and see the snow everyday—you always wanted to see the snow.

As the doors that belonged to Rhaenyra’s chambers opened, you were attacked by the limbs of the young princes and their clinginess towards you and Lysanna. They quickly wrapped themselves around you both.

“Auntie! Have you just came back from riding Meraxes?! I saw you both flying in the sky! I was waving too,” Luke exclaimed. With swiftness, he was already up in Lysanna’s arms. You and Lysanna only giggled at the young boy and his eagerness.

You gave his forehead a big kiss before walking over to the couches that were placed in the middle of the room to sit. “Indeed, my dear nephew. I even had Lysanna to feed Meraxes today,” Luke gasped at the statement, had he only been begging to touch the Silver Queen for weeks now. He feels betrayed that you let Lysanna feed him. “do not fret. You can mount her…if your mother only agrees.”

As you hear him whine at the agreement—knowing Rhaenyra would never let him or Jace near Meraxes until they were at least twenty, you see Jace only sit right next to you and place his head on your shoulders.

“Mother is starting her labors. She had just left and even wished to see you before you left the castle,” Jace muttered, though you could see how scared he is for his mother. Placing a short kiss on his head, “I shall stay and company you and your brother until she has come back.” You said as he smiles at your efforts.

Watching Lysanna and Luke play on the floor—both very indulged in the wooden figures that are scattered, you could hear your nephew shouting battle cries as Lysanna merely plays along. But still, you worry for your sister—you wished you came sooner and possibly be there for her during her labors.

Jace suddenly spoke up and forced your attention back onto him, “Aegon had said..that you were to be betrothed to him. Is it true, Princess?”

With the young boy’s confused look, you could only sit in silence and grimace at the fact that your brother had the audacity to spread such gossip to your innocent nephews. Your thoughts were soon to be interrupted by the Prince,

“Please don’t marry him!” he cried out, it brought Lysanna and Luke’s attention, wondering why is Jace getting so emotional. “He said that if you do then I won’t be able to see you again, you will be locked up in your shared chambers and occupied being swollen with children.”

How dare Aegon say such inappropriate things to him!? You would never let yourself be treated with such disrespect, especially by your own family.

Jace continues to plead, you quickly hold him in your arms as a way to calm him down. “What did I say about never believing a word Aegon says?” you smiled down at the boy, you had to put up a front in order to not let him see how hurt you were from those words. “He is only jesting and I promise you, I will not leave you. If he says another word about this then ignore it and don’t let him tease you, alright?”

As the boy nods his head, he spoke up once more, “If I could, I would ask to be betrothed to you, Targaryens do marry each other and that would mean I could be your sworn protector.” the words settled in and all you could do was smile and mess with his curls. You didn’t expect him to answer back but it left you feeling rather troubled.

After awhile of waiting, you felt yourself drift off on the couch but was quick awaken from the sound of the chamber doors opening—expecting it to be your sister but it was only the Commander of City Watch, you gave Ser Harwin a smile when he walked in.

“Princess,” he bowed his head before the boys made their to greet him. You nodded your head and out of respect, you fixed your position on the couch.

“Oh! How could we forget?!” Luke exclaimed before making his way to the counter that held a huge black pot, “Auntie! Ser Harwin had taken us to the dragonpit while you were away, we had collected an egg for the baby! Come Liz, you must see too!”

You wanted to see the color of the egg so badly so you quickly made your way towards the kids with Lysanna, watching Jace lift up the lid and it revealed the egg—it was certainly gorgeous, the whole egg was a dark colored that reminded you of the Black Dread’s scales. The egg must’ve been from one of the several clutches of eggs that Meraxes had laid during this month, she has been laying as much eggs as she can but it only made your father happier than ever.

In awe, you still kept your focus on the egg before Lysanna had nudged your shoulder. “Be careful, my Princess. You will burn yourself if you are too close.”

“We thought of a few names for the dragon! But of course that is up to the baby to decide.”

“Very well. Make sure the egg is placed in the cradle soon,” you voiced out and let Jace put the lid back on before watching them lead the commander onto the floor to play with the toys. They seemed to become even more happier now that Harwin Strong has come back but if they were happy then so are you. He acted more like a father to them and you weren’t the only one to have noticed, almost everyone in court seems to think so—especially the Queen. Unlike the other lords and ladies from court, you do not bother in such gossips about their parentage. They are still Targaryen, that is what matters.

“And, he sees a big scary dragon!” Jace exclaimed, playing with the toys, and you smiled at how invested he was in the game. The door suddenly opened and it revealed to be your older sister. Ser Harwin stood up as your sister and her husband walked in. You watched Jace and Luke quickly run to show mother the dragon egg. Rhaenyra’s hair was damp with sweat and messy, she looks completely worn out.

“Dear sister, I hope the labors went well. Let your mother rest, children.”

“Thank you, young sister. I must admit, it was rather more discomforting than the last.” She smiles, leaning into your touch and you can feel the sweat that was painted on her skin. It felt good to be by her side once again, even if it’s been a few hours that you both were separated.

“Mother..look,” Jace said as she moved to find a seat. Rhaenyra glanced at the dragon egg as she carefully sat down with Ser Harwin’s help. The Commander of the City’s Watch was always so kind to all of you. “We chose an egg for the baby.” Luke finished for Jace. In Laenor’s arms was the new child to your sister’s family. The thought of her having a big family warmed your heart—you felt the possibility that you were experiencing baby fever.

“Ahh…that looks like the perfect one.”

“It’s not everyday a dragon egg leaves the dragon pit, my Princess. I thought it was best to escort the lads.” Ser Harwin explained. Rhaenyra nodded, reassured that there was someone to watch over them, “Laenor and I thank you, Commander.” Jace closed the pot and you focused your eyes back on the newborn child.

“Another boy, I heard.” Ser Harwin softly said, and you watched as Rhaenyra smiled, confirming. As Laenor was coddling the babe, whispering sweet things. You heard him clearly, “You will make a fine knight,” he had said. The thought of the three boys becoming knights once they were more older was a fine one for sure.

“Do not worry, sister. You will soon have a girl, I’m sure of it.” Rhaenyra laughed at your comment, giving your hand a quick squeeze. She had always wanted a daughter and you knew this.

“Might I?” Ser Harwin asked, kindly.

With silence disappearing quickly, Rhaenyra uttered, ”Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”

The Velaryon didn’t argue. He simply gave the babe to Ser Harwin before he started to rock the babe gently. “Joffrey, is it?” he asked, Laenor nodded. The name left you a little baffled, it was an unusual name for a Velaryon nor Targaryen but you did not want to voice your opinion.

Rhaenyra cleared her throat and laid her eyes on Lysanna, “Lady Lysanna, I apologize on behalf of the rejection to your wish on riding back home to the North,” from what you heard, your lady-in-waiting had asked to attend back home once again to celebrate with her brother who become the next Warden of the North, “I am sure the Queen has her reasons but I will make sure to speak of it with council on the morrow.”

Lysanna gave your sister a faint smile and nodded her head. You knew she had just come back from the entombment of her father—Lord Rickon Stark, whom had passed away. She received word from her brother, Cregan, not too long that he wishes to see her again. You had no idea why Alicent would even reject the idea, considering they are distant relatives from her mother’s side.

“The Queen knows what is best for me..she had promised my mother that she would look after me during my time here in King’s Landing.”

Even if Lysanna says those words with a grin on her face, you can tell she was still upset. She had missed her family dearly and wishes to be back home permanently but you knew there was a slim chance that Alicent would allow that to happen.

“I assure you, you will ride back to Winterfell. I will talk to the King..his word is above the Queen’s.” You reassured the young lady, Lysanna was truly in debt to you and your sister.

“Father, may I hold Joffrey?”

Suddenly, you spot Luke clinging to the baby, trying to hold him before getting yanked away by Jace and his father. “No, no, no.” Laenor fiercely exclaimed, dragging them both out, “Off to the dragon pit, you two.”

“But I want to hold Joffrey!” Luke whined.

You let out a loud laugh and ushered Lysanna to follow them, “Please escort the princes to the dragon pit. I shall meet you three there, I must talk to my sister on an important matter.”

Lysanna quickly glanced over to Rhaenyra then back to you before nodded and left with the kids as Laenor closes the door behind him.

Once they left, you could only sigh in relief. You had longed to talk to Rhaenyra and she quickly noticed your sudden change in attitude after she had excused the Commander of City’s Watch, holding young Joffrey when he gave him to her before leaving, “What has been troubling you, young sister?”

You fiddled with your thumbs in response, not knowing how to speak about the topic of marriage, labors, and children.

“Father brought it up again.”

With that, Rhaenyra immediately knew. Of course she knew, she was the one who quickly stood to your defense when the Queen had first proposed the idea. She let it be known that she was your voice in court and always stated that you will wed under your own terms. Afterall, your ten-and-fifth nameday was coming up soon and you were at the age of being wedded off, Alicent made sure you had known that.

Rhaenyra snaked her unoccupied hand to hold yours, she wanted to comfort you. Truly, she loves you so much. You were the only thing she now has of the memory of your mother and it was quite known that Rhaenyra was protective of you.

“Listen to me, sister,” Rhaenyra whispered, softly, “you will have the choice to yourself, I will make sure of it. You can put off the decision for as long as you want, I was ten-and-seventh when I was betrothed.”

Her reassurance only helped little. You know she will do her best to keep you safe, she always showed this. But the Queen will always do everything in her power to have it her way. Ever since you were just a babe, she was so persistent to take care of you like you were one of her own children—even referred you as her “eldest daughter” way too many times in court and it had always left Rhaenyra with a sour feeling.

“A wise woman had once told me,” Rhaenyra lets out a sharp sigh before continuing, “that we both have royal wombs and you will lie in that bed soon enough, sweet sister. This discomfort is how we serve the realm and with that, I had now understood what she had said. But of course..merely hours later, that wise woman had died in childbed.”

You could only take a deep breath and breathe out slowly, you did not want to cry but your own body was betraying you.

“Was it mother who spoke those words?”

Rhaenyra only gave you a fainted smile before nodding, “She would’ve been so proud on what you had become, dear sister.” Those words completely broke you and you could no longer hide the warm tears streaming down your cheeks.

Truly, you missed your mother and years after years you had blamed yourself for the death of your twin brother and mother. As though you were named to be the Realm’s Beauty and Undying—you knew deep down the Realm had longed for your deceased brother, not you.

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Oh my gosh, it took me about a month to write this lol! I am honestly going by hotd’s plot and a few of my ideas for the story. I do not want to fully go by fire and blood because I want this story to be less angst hehe. My first time writing, so sorry if it sucks! I apologize 😭

[bucknastysbabe]

Ser Criston is OC Princess (Rhaenyra’s younger sister) sworn protector & is in love with her but he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help being obsessed and Rhaenyra hates it because it’s her little sister & so one night she asks Ser Criston to sneak out for a walk and they kiss & get caught by Rhaenyra idk

Hi yes I totally got carried away bc Criston has me in a chokehold rn. I hope you enjoy, I love the obsessed aspects. I also got to explore the other indications in F&B that insinuated Cole rejected Rhaenyra. Thanks for the ask🥰🥰 I don’t usually do OC’s but since it’s a Targ I mean I can only leave so much up to interpretation! But it was fun and diff

Rating: Mature

Tags: Forbidden love, unreliable narrator, Criston’s POV, oc-ish Princess reader, Sorry I made Rhae a bitch ugh, Criston’s snappy ass, Alicent is his bestie, masturbation, fantasies, dark Criston, virgin reader, clit orgasm, open ending, angst and pining galore, Religious Guilt, Harwin doing his best okay?, character study-ish, obsessive/possessive Criston

Word count: About 6k

@aemonds-holy-milk @aemonddtargaryen

Lucerra Targaryen, called Cerra, was oft said to be the spitting image of the late Queen Aemma. She retained more of her father’s demeanor, none of the resolute strength of Aemma and the fiery nature of young Rhaenyra. The fire that had entranced Criston once. He was told all of Cerra’s quirks when they made him her sworn shield.

He so much did not glance Rhaenyra’s way now, the burly Ser Harwin towering over the heir. They shared a kiss once, Criston ran, their close bond was severed. He knew down deep she coveted her uncle. It burned him, but he did his duty. The duty hanging around his shoulders like a lead weight— just cloaked in white wool. Criston found himself bewitched again.

The sweet Cerra, her gentle innocence and piousness. Something unmarred, not yet tainted by the world. The knight wondered if she was the maiden reborn, sent to test him. He prayed and prayed and confessed repeatedly to get rid of the wicked sin in his heart. Usually after touching himself.

Criston had always been weak when it came to the fairer sex. He’d fall madly in love like a boy and his first fuck. Just no fucking, more of the merest scrap of appreciation and touch had him by the vulnerable throat.

He coveted the young princess badly. Sometimes she would grab his palm when frightened, or on a walk to the Sept. Criston felt disgusting wondering how that soft hand would feel around his cock, the pale flesh clashing against ruddy. Cerra didn’t know, couldn’t know how weak he was.

Rhaenyra obviously knew of the metaphorical chink in the armor. She was becoming increasingly nosy of her sister’s doings as of late. He sourly thought to himself, ‘spoiled cunt couldn’t have me, of course she’ll make sure I part from her sweet sister.’ He frowned in annoyance at the elder’s recent interruption.

He’d merely helped her up to reach a flower in a tall bush. Certainly didn’t expect chaste Cerra to be so…close. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, startling him as she sighed, “You’re too kind Ser Criston, my white knight. What would I do without you?” She didn’t mean anything licentious, the Princess never did. Once a lordling flirted and she blushed to her ears and called for Criston to escort her away.

He preened about that for days. He’d heard the idiot boy scoff, “Stupid Dornish mutt.” Criston grinned and leaned toward the shorter lad, keeping his voice low. The princess shouldn’t hear such filth. He hissed, “This mutt would be glad to cave your fucking skull in with a Morningstar. Don’t come near the Princess ever again.” That was that. Back to his original thought.

At the moment Criston couldn’t help but sink into her soft gesture, pale white waves and lavender eyes gazing up as she laid her head on his chest. The brunette laid a chaste hand on her waist, but the moony look on his face was likely brighter than the Hightower’s beacon.

“My lady is kinder, no need to praise your sworn shield, merely doing my duty Princess.”

His cock was full to bursting at her sweet scent and wide eyes, framed by pretty lashes. Cerra closed those lavender orbs and inhaled gently, relaxing in the center of the Godswood. Criston’s hand thumbed little circles into her waist, feeling the princess relax more, leaning into his stronger frame, lips subtly parting.

“Cole! This is an unseemly position to be seen in with my sister if Larys’ spies are about,” Rhaenyra called with a smile and cocked head. Lucerra stepped back with a gasp, flush flooding her cheeks. She stammered, “R-Rhaenyra, no no, I w-was simply.”

“Simply what?”

Criston cooled his expression to state, “The princess was expressing her gratitude for me. Nothing more.”

Lucerra nodded, gesturing to the knight, cheeks still flaming and eyes downcast. She certainly wasn’t acting as if this was innocent. Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes and stepped forward to grab her sister’s hand. Casting a glare toward him she hissed, “I need her for the afternoon, you can wait outside the door.”

He stiffly nodded, anger flaring up in his chest so violently Criston feared he would yell at the heir. Instead he murmured, “Yes princess.” From a distance he trailed the two blondes, aggravated as all Seven Hells. Rhaenyra never paid attention to Cerra, especially since having her first babe. Damned bitch. Where was her loyal whore Harwin?

Waiting outside Rhaenyra’s chambers, Criston thought over her precious sister’s actions. He wondered what it would be like to touch her more. Graze over her sensitive neck, breasts, lower belly. She’d probably squeal if he suckled on a pretty tit. He inhaled sharply, catching himself on a low moan. Repentance would be in order soon.

Maybe he was being punished now— waiting outside like a mangy dog.

For hours.

Cerra came back out with a strange look, apologizing, “Sorry Ser Criston, that went longer than expected, I didn’t think my sister would want that much of the day. Shall we head to supper?”

He nodded, extending an arm forward. The princess was quiet, eyes flicking toward him a couple of times. Criston asked, “Yes princess?” Lucerra stopped on a dime and faced him, face close to tears. She warbled, “You’re not mad are you? I- I can’t deny family. Rhaenyra actually uh- helped. I was acting imprudent in the Godswood, I apologize for being wanton and brazen Ser.”

Oh. Criston blinked a couple of times. She was expressing more than mere affection? He wiped away her tear with a gloved hand, sighing, “No princess, I could never be mad at you, what’s in the past is in the past. You are anything but wanton, the picture of the maiden to me. Don’t let her scare you.”

She smiled, tipping forward on her feet some, eyes entrapping Cole easily. Then he was engulfed into a hug again. What had brought in this madness? He couldn’t complain, yet.

She breathed, “Oh, oh I was so worried you’d be mad. We should go to the sept tomorrow, yes?” The knight’s lips quirked up as he replied, “That sounds splendid my Princess, we shall go in the morn. Now let’s get you to dinner?”

She grabbed his hand again, practically skipping, chattering now about her time with ‘big sister’. Criston listened, he always did, but he needed to go jack his cock before going mad. Then wallow in guilt about it all night at the edge of Cerra’s room. She preferred him taking watch from inside her quarters. Such a frightened little lamb.

Wallow in guilt did he. While the princess slept in her grand bed, Criston couldn’t help but replay the shame in his head. As soon as he’d escorted her to dinner, he went to his quarters and stripped down heavy armor and pants. The man shuddered at the sensation of cool air hitting his achingly flushed cock.

He pictured the pristine Targaryen underneath his tanned body, writhing with pleasure. Criston spat on his hand and worked his prick, panting softly. Cerra’s doe eyes would be teary, overwhelmed with the pleasures of the flesh. She’d whine while he’d pump into her virgin cunt, “Oh, Criston, oh gods! Don’t stop!” The knight gasped and shuddered at the thought, groaning as he spilled all over his hand.

He blinked again, running a hand through his hair. Lucerra was awake, hair shining like silver under the moonlight. She spoke in a soft rasp, “Ser Cole, are you still here?” He laughed at her silly question, replying, “As always, can’t trade me out like the Cargylls.”

“Oh, good,” she pulled the covers off the bed and stretched, white nightgown pulling in the right wrong places, “I had a horrid dream. I can’t possibly go back to sleep yet.”

Criston frowned at her admission— it pained his heart to have her upset. He questioned, “A bad dream? What was it about?” She stepped onto the cold marble floor, shivering, shrugging on a thicker robe hung nearby. His eyes followed her smaller form come closer, curling up in a plush chair adjacent to his position. She wiped a hand across her face, still groggy.

“I can hardly remember now. I was alone, so alone, not even my dragon was around. I k-kept calling out for someone, probably you,” she pulled the robe tighter, “I don’t know. Maybe it was the wine.”

Cerra’s lips were drawn tight, brows pulled together. Criston wanted to pull the pretty girl onto his lap, she was still shivery. He thought of a decent response, something comforting. The knight settled on, “It was obviously a dream, I’d never desert you my Princess. That big white beast wouldn’t either.”

Her lips curled up to let out a tinkling laugh— making Criston’s sick heart skip a beat. Cerra replied, “Cloudwing is not a beast! She’s a good girl.” The brunette chuckled along with the Targaryen, smiling helplessly, such a lovesick dumb dog was he.

A beat of silence grew over them, heavy with something. The earlier revelation of Lucerra behaving with romantic intentions still lay undiscussed. Criston suggested gently, “You will catch a cold if you do not get back under the covers, princess. You won’t be alone, I swore an oath.”

One he would break if she just asked. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted that truly or not. He’d gotten quite far being the son of a common born steward.

She bit her lower lip and shrugged, “I’d much rather sit with you Ser Criston. I’ll be okay as long as I keep my feet off the dreadful stone.”

“Lucerra, please, shall I pick you up then? You need sleep, the Sept remember?”

Her gaze locked onto the white knight’s intensely. Lucerra fidgeted with her robe, the damn air growing heavier. Criston found it hard to think when she was being so confusing. She finally spoke, a meek whisper, “Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”

Lifting the blonde was easy, her squeak and grasp onto his shoulders adorable. Criston had to bat away more thoughts about how simple she was to handle. He laid her down gently, taking the coat she shrugged off. Lucerra grabbed onto his hand with a fervent tightness as he turned back to his chair.

“Please, don’t leave me so alone, I don’t care what Rhaenyra says. Just keep me warm?”

Her pretty face was achingly raw, open, eyes tinged with fear. Criston swallowed heavily. He was weak. He couldn’t run away this time. Didn’t want to run away, bask in the sweet sin. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it was a test from the seven.

“Criston?”

“Yes, just, just- give me a second to get my armor off.”

Now he was shivery with want, warring with trepidation. Ridding his body of armor was horribly slow. The awkward clank of each piece coming off. Each heavy noise reminded him what he was potentially giving up. Soon Criston remained in simple breeches and a linen shirt. Lucerra pulled back the covers and smiled nervously.

He climbed onto the soft bed, pulling the blankets back over their frames. Unsure of what came next, Criston simply laid on his back and gazed at her. Lucerra murmured, “Must you be the pious one now?” He raised an amused brow at the bold comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean princess?”

She frowned and nestled into his side, wrapping an arm around him and tucking soft hair into the crook of shoulder and jaw. Criston exhaled sharply, unused to such intimate touch after donning the white cloak. He reached over to grab her leg, pulling it snug across his lower belly, thankfully out of the way of his swelling prick.

Cerra gasped against his neck, giggling, “Good, now I don’t feel like a concubine.”

“Concubine? Pfft. You’re white as snow compared to my cloak,” he replied.

“It’ll be our secret, I’d fear I would perish without my white knight. I swear it upon my heart.”

He couldn’t respond, lest it be something out of control. Instead he rubbed her back and knee, squeezing once in agreement with Cerra’s statement. Soon she fell asleep, softly puffing against his neck. Criston joined soon after, utterly content and warm.

The simple action of cuddling up couldn’t slake the thirst that grew within him for the lovely princess. They had remained chaste and he arose early every morn to get dressed and step back outside the wooden door. Lucerra would seek out touches in secret, holding pinkies with him, laying her head on an armored shoulder in the Godswood.

She would share smiles with the knight across the throne room, Rhaenyra’s calculating look upon the utterly obvious pair. Criston knew one could see into his bleeding heart if they looked into his eyes. The way Princess Lucerra grew tighter and tighter into his side around the keep, lavender eyes sparkling aroused many curious onlookers.

Rumors began to swirl. Criston reluctantly stood outside her chambers a couple nights a week. One night he encountered a poorly prying Harwin Strong. The fellow knight had made one too many passes and he called out, “Get your big ass over here!” He didn’t mind Harwin, but did mind being spied on.

The hand’s son looked sullen as he walked up to Criston, flicking down a dark hood. He gave a sheepish smile, apologizing, “Uh, you know, the girls want what they want.” Criston crossed his arms and deadpanned, “Your girl wants me expelled from King’s Landing on account of rumors”

Harwin gave him a look, disgusting pity lacing his features. Criston reiterated, “The girl remains pure, she looks to me as a protector, you know how easily frightened the princess has always been.” Somehow he felt like a liar. Still her pretty lips and cunt remained untouched.

“Sure Cole. Just be careful, you know what the punishment is of breaking your oath.”

Criston’s temper flared to life, taunting Harwin with a fake smile, “You be careful too now, two Valyrians making some beautiful brown haired babes is a bit strange no?”

Harwin shoved him into the door with a snarl. Breakbones’ power at full force knocked the wind out of Criston, but he wheezed a laugh. He was no better than him— just another lovesick fool. Strong rumbled, “Keep your damn mouth shut and I’ll stay on my side, but I know you got the princess primed for your dirty lowborn cock.”

Criston didn’t want to get his face pummeled in. The raucous already probably woke his sweetling. He gave another smarmy look and hummed, “Noted, Strong.” That earned the knight another shove and the burly man stomped off to lick the bitch’s teats.

The door opened behind Criston, a bewildered Lucerra in her robe. She questioned, “W-what was that? Are you alright Ser Criston? Come in, please.”

His dark eyes scanned down the hallway once more before stepping inside, sighing as she enveloped him into a warm embrace. Criston spoke lowly, “Big sister had sent her own shield to spy on me. We should be more careful.”

Lucerra frowned, lips setting into a pout. She murmured, “We’ve done nothing horrid. Yes, unseemly, but I’m intact. Turn around, let me get off this dreaded armor.” Criston appreciated her desire to learn how to discard his Kingsguard armor— although he averted guilty eyes from the way the Targaryen would carefully hang his cloak, like it still meant something.

As they laid together, she complained into his neck, lithe fingers playing with his inky hair, “You’re right, we should be more courtly, take more precaution. Of all of my sister’s misgivings, why does she care?”

Criston played dumb, it’s what he was anyway. Lied again and said he had no clue why Rhaenyra took such a deep distaste to the pair’s relationship. He sighed, “It will work out, more careful, yes. C’mon, to sleep, sorry about the noise.”

Another night in her arms was a blessing to Criston. He would be reluctantly busy the next day. The king needed a whole retainer for his appearance in public at the Dragonpit. It was the anniversary of Aegon’s landing. Luckily the princess would be in his peripheral. Along with the conniving heir and her other eyes.

It was a banal affair, King Viserys smiling and waving to the crowds. Queen Alicent held her youngest child, Daeron. Rhaenyra and Laenor were surrounded by her bastard brood, holding her own babe Joffrey. Named after that flimsy knight who Laenor was fucking. Poor sap died in the city under strange circumstances, likely Daemon’s doings.

Criston met eyes with Harwin, vaguely disguising a sneer. He ignored the brute and turned his vision back to the crowds, the smallfolk staying relatively easy. Lucerra stood next to her elder sister, holding Lucerys, her namesake. Her smile was gorgeous, a couple of boys cheered for her, throwing a flower.

After the public spectacle, the princess gave a shy smile to Criston on his horse, cheeks rosy pink before the door was slammed shut by the cunt Daemon. He raised a brow and hopped onto the front of the wheelhouse, offhandedly commenting, “Cunt struck and you haven’t even defiled my niece, Ser Crispin.”

The Dornishman clenched his jaw so hard he feared it may crack a tooth. He rode ahead, staying silent, Daemon didn’t forget a slight and surely hadn’t forgot when Criston embarrassed the rogue prince in tournament. Pompous ass.

More annoying feast and merriment kept the knight from his pretty girl. Lords and ladies filled the grand dining hall, dancing to and fro. He stayed put against a column, watching her. Lucerra wasn’t much of a dancer, but she let the old Sea Snake guide her around some turns.

A body sidled next to him, a familiar face and scent. The Queen herself, Alicent smiled softly up at him. She stated, “You’re distracted Ser Criston.” He sighed in return, “I’m sure you’re quite aware of the rumors. Seven cursed my weak heart.”

“Lucerra’s harmless,” Alicent glared toward the non-green side of the table, “It’s her lying sister, you remained truthful. I’ve been trying to stifle the rumors. Have you stayed chaste? I hope you have on account of your neck, my dear Knight.”

Criston leaned down to murmur, “Agonizingly so. I fear I’ve been bewitched yet again. Harwin Strong was sniffing around the other night.”

Her lips turned to a foul grimace at the mention. Alicent hissed, “The realm’s delight is carting around her bastards like trueborns and she’s deadset on potentially ruining her sister’s reputation to get at you.”

“Always been selfish, hasn’t she,” Criston laughed.

Alicent smirked, placing both of her hands over the knight’s. The green queen spoke plainly, “Please be careful dear heart. You’re a valuable asset to our proud dynasty.” The long-suffering redhead disappeared into the throng of people, ever an ally for him.

Back to scanning the surroundings. Daemon was spinning with Rhaenyra, likely talking horseshit in High Valyrian. He scanned for Lucerra, finding her cornered by the tables with a noble clad in the colors of House Darklyn, known bootlickers.

His chest tightened with jealousy. Criston seethed to himself, chanting internally, ‘I will not make a scene, I will not make a scene.’ The Darklyn lad was too close for his liking. It suddenly felt too hot under his heavy armor. He was close to the brink, gripping the pommel of his sword until his knuckles whitened.

Lucerra seemed uncomfortable, face uneasy and body stiffening. The Darklyn fuck was leaning into her space, lips undoubtedly spewing disgusting things a lady shouldn’t hear. The princess gasped at something he said and turned away, getting yanked back towards the man.

That was enough.

Criston stormed forward, shoving through the nobility, snarling in anger. He yanked the uncouth prick by the collar and dragged him far away from his princess. Parts of the crowd stopped to stare, Rhaenyra perking up to look. The princess blushed and excused herself, quickly finding another dance partner in the more palatable form of Tyland Lannister.

“What are you doing? I have done nothing to the King!,” the black haired teen spat. Criston continued to haul the boy past the columns to a quieter place, anger clouding any sort of judgement. He shoved the noble bitch against an alcove, gauntlet pressed against twitching neck.

Darklyn gasped and writhed for air, eyes wide with fear. Criston hissed, “The Kingsguard protects the family and the king. You should know better than to touch the princess like that. I ought to gut you, throw you onto the spikes of Maegor’s Holdfast and watch you rot.”

The stinking reek of piss filled Criston’s nostrils. He looked down in disgust, muttering, “Weakling piss-ant. Don’t dare come near her-,” his threat was unfinished as he was whirled to face Lord Commander Westerling. His face was hard and eyes flinty— obviously disappointed.

“Come Cole, we need to have a word.”

The walk was quiet and unsettling, only the clank of their gear and footsteps sounding off as they reached the quieter area of Maegor’s Holdfast. Criston apologized immediately, “My temper Ser, I apologize, he was manhandling the Princess.”

Harrold Westerling shook his head with a resigned sigh. He rumbled, “You’ve already toed the line Ser Cole. I don’t want to have a capable fighter like you dismissed or facing the black, gelded at that.”

Criston’s roiling emotions died down into a despairing state— his chest fluttering with fear. He nodded and held his head down in obeisance. Westerling continued, “You must take a step back. You’re of the most elite of elite men, a big step from your beginnings. Princess Lucerra is an enchanting girl, I know this is hard, but as soon as you took the oath— this is your life. You must cease all feelings for the girl or request to be transferred to another.”

Criston fought back the warble in his voice. He wanted to rip his cloak off and shout his love, make someone understand. He swore, “I know Lord Commander, I know. I have never defiled the girl, I would never. This is my calling and I’m shirking it. I’ll think about requesting an exchange.”

Harrold clapped him on the shoulder and regarded him with kinder eyes, “Good. I was struck too once. I had many princesses to tend to with Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s litter of dragons. Just, please, pray on it and keep it in line Ser Cole.”

“Yes sir.”

He sulked about, Harrold ordering him to his chambers until the was called to his usual watch over his Lucerra. Criston hoped she was alright. He guiltily turned dark eyes onto his shrine of the seven. The small flail and beaded necklace awaited. He had been ignoring the faith, so entrenched in sin Criston could hardly bare to look at the Mother’s cold face.

He prayed and prayed to the mother for relief of his twisted desire, depraved lust, uncontrollable need to consume a sparkling untainted virgin. Then to the warrior to ease his temper, make Criston a calm knight, not blinded by rage so he may protect accordingly. Down the list he went until the dead skull relief of the Stranger awaited.

“If I fail, take me into your arms and punish me accordingly,” he whispered, a couple tears leaking onto his armor, shining by the candles. He would confess another time and receive his penance. Bloodletting seemed fit. Flagellation made him think clear, the pain taking away sickness in mind and body.

A sharp knocking snapped Criston out of his religious wallowing. He called out, “I’m coming.” The door opened to the queen and Ser Rickard Thorne. They both were cloaked and Alicent’s doe eyes looked worried. The younger knight questioned, “What? What is it?”

Alicent shushed him and murmured, “Our dear Lucerra and…the heir,” she spat the word like it was bile on her tongue, “Had some intense words after the feast. Ser Thorne escorted Cerra to her chambers.”

Thorne’s gravelly voice was low, “It was quiet and I checked in as she was in quite the state. She’s not in her chambers and the servant’s passage was left slightly ajar.”

Alicent frowned, “I know she’s upset and frightened. I would rather you find her. No one knows of this. I doubt she would leave the keep but gods forbid. We checked underneath the keep and Thorne most of the passageways. I will keep this at utmost secrecy, dear Criston.”

He nodded, quickly gathering his gear and a dark cloak to cover the white of his garb. While fastening his belt he quickly thanked the pair, “I will find her now. Thank you my queen, Ser Thorne. You may rest now. She will be returned.”

He chastely kissed the queens ring, patting his fellow knight on the shoulder and strode forward, urgency at his tail. Criston was fearful, dreadfully so. What did Rhaenyra do? He bit his lip, worked his jaw, making his rounds around the shadows of the outer courtyard. The goldcloaks were obviously not doing their job, playing cards up in a tower.

He worried she finally broke the princess, told Lucerra of the past. She would be heartbroken. He sped his pace, deciding to check the Godswood. Somewhere she would still feel safe. He knew Cerra wouldn’t run anywhere outside the walls, she’d have a fainting spell.

Speeding up he decided to take a turn and clamber up the wall into the Godswood. He must not be seen. Especially after tonight’s mishap. Swinging a leg over the thick red stone, Criston shimmied down and landed with a dull thud. The clouds covered the moon— making it dreadfully dark. Lucerra must truly be upset. He swallowed down a tightening throat. He needed to be the protector, not a weeping craven.

He scanned around the dark trees and arches to the left. It seemed empty. He moved forward, keeping to the brush, listening. Closer towards the heart tree he heard the familiar little hitching of breath. His Cerra. The fear of what came next shivered his spine.

Criston called gently, “Princess, Princess, is that you?”

He slowly approached, holding out a hand like he was soothing a skittish foal. He could barely see her, just the white of hair and a shadow of a figure. He took another step, stopping when she wept, “No Ser Cole, go away, I wish to be alone.”

All of his fears had come true. She’d turned against him. He shook his head. No. This wouldn’t do. The knight would change her mind. Lucerra Targaryen needed him, not Ser Cole, not the loyal dog, just Criston Cole of Blackhaven’s marches.

“Ser, please, I cannot bear this,” Cerra warbled.

He came to her side, kneeling, swallowing another agonized noise when she turned from him. Criston begged, “Sweetling, what’s the matter, why are you distraught? It pains me.” She sobbed, hands wrenching into a now-dirtied dress.

The brunette engulfed her tinier frame into a tight grip, her back plastered to his. Much like they slept many a night. She fought and tried to wrench free, crying, “No! Let go! I’m just a replacement for her! I always come second! Ser Cole!”

He held tighter, exploding, “I love you!”

Her writhing stopped, eyes turning to him, confusion on fine features. Criston swore, “Bythe Seven and my oath, I love you more than anything Lucerra.” She shook her head, confused, “No, no you don’t, Rhaenyra told me why y-you became my shield.”

He hissed, “No, she lied, she lied lied lied! I kissed her yes, but I ran, I knew it was bad. I was an idiot— she merely wanted a fill in for Daemon. I swear it to be true,” he continued in a softer voice, “I never thought I would love so strongly and deeply as I do with you, it’s more than lust. I would worship you until my last breath, chaste forever.”

Lucerra bawled again, curling into him, soft thighs straddling his own as she wept. He held her and shushed and coddled, praising the perfect maiden’s presence. He dumbly reiterated, “Never, never has anyone taken my heart like you have.” Her bejeweled hands gripped into his cloak.

Her face was dangerously close to his, sweet scent filling the knight’s nose. She whispered in a rasp, “Do you mean it? You love me? I love you, it nearly broke me to hear Rhaenyra tell me.” Criston frowned, pressing his forehead to her own. He murmured, “I was dumb, I bolted after it was initiated. I didn’t tell you, b-because, I didn’t want to lose you princess.”

She placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart and said, “I believe you. I forgive you.”

Criston was so relieved he didn’t realize the tear leaking down his cheek, kissed away by impossibly soft lips. She whispered fervently, “Kiss me Criston. Kiss me like you love me, like you said.” He carefully caressed her jaw, peering into those adoring orbs.

He closed the gap, lips finally meeting, the Princess sighing into him. She clung to his chest still, passively letting Criston take the reins. He chastely shared tender pecks, letting Cerra get into a rhythm.

Her lips opened as the kisses got more desperate, boiling tension rising. She whimpered when Criston lapped into her mouth, moaning himself. She tasted like sweet wine and cinnamon, opening for him beautifully. Cerra wrapped her arms around his neck, thin fingers gripping his long locks. He moaned again, lashes fluttering. All guilt was out the window when in the embrace of this goddess.

He tilted her head to intertwine their tongues, Lucerra shivering helplessly, whining his name. She was shy, better for Criston to take her warm mouth. The princess plastered herself tight to his body, breasts pushed up from the movement.

He’d be good. He will not stain her maidenhead, as much as the dark part of him sought to claim every inch of her. The brunette slid his hands down her waist, squeezing soft hips. She mewled again, feverishly smacking her lips against him. Criston felt her overwhelmed trembling, eyes teary just like he fantasized.

She pulled away with a string of drool, panting, “I- Criston- it aches.” His cock jumped at what the implication of that was. He pressed little kisses down her jaw and neck, basking in her cute noises. He purred, “What aches Princess? I shan’t dare to hurt your heart again.”

She blushed so heavily he could see it even in the pitch of the night. Criston smiled gently, breathing hotly against her ear, “You can tell me, sweet love.” The princess shivered again, hips bucking fruitlessly against his garb.

“Y-you know. M-my,” she looked away, “My flower.”

The dog in Criston grinned at that, the innocent little thing. He hummed, “Have you soaked your linens Lucerra? I don’t have to breach your maidenhead to pleasure my sweet girl. Would you like that?”

She practically sobbed, “Please, my knight, Criston. Our little secret.”

“Always,” he said, taking off his gloves and Cerra’s trembling hands undoing the heavy gauntlets. He slid warm palms up her plush thighs, so soft yet strong from dragon riding. She desperately sought his lips to cover an indecent sound.

One greedy hand spread open a thigh, the other swiping thick fingers through her slick cunt, dragging upward to graze her swollen bud. The princess shrieked into his swollen lips, Criston doing his best to cover the noise.

He offered his free hand up, half-groaning, “Suckle on my fingers sweet girl, can’t have you waking half the keep up.” Lucerra shyly opened her swollen lips to let Criston’s calloused fingers in. He pressed slightly on her tongue, earning a cute little garbled whine.

“Now be good my love, I’ll make you feel better, always will,” he promised. Gathering more wetness seeping from her cunt, Criston circled his fingers around that bud, teasingly thumbing too, dragging the roughened digit against her tender untouched flesh.

She seized and cried around his fingers, drooling and sniffling. Criston cooed, “Mm, feels good Cerra? Made for me, swear it, keep singing for me.” He picked up the speed of his fingers, circling and pinching to make her squeal and writhe on his lap.

Soon the princess was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, unable to stop crying and shaking, thighs trembling. Criston suddenly realized his cock was throbbing and twitching, ready to fill his garments like a green boy.

He desperately rambled, “C’mon my love, let it go, let the pleasure take you, I’m so close, together yes? Kiss me, yes, yes!” They gnashed teeth and noses against each other, no finesse in these last moments, the little death.

She gushed over his fingers first, Criston swallowing her suprisingly quiet keen. His belly tightened, balls drawing up, whining out of his nose at the ecstasy. Cumming absolutely untouched, so intense and powerful. They continued to sloppily kiss, stop to pant, kiss some more until the climax passed.

Criston withdrew his hands from her cunt, wiping them on his cloak. The princess was sapped of energy, head tucked under his scruffy jaw. She murmured, “I think I saw the stars.” He smiled, the giddiness of cumming warping his senses, “Mhm, me too sweetheart. But we need to get you back to your quarters.”

He carried her, sharing more intimate pecks and nuzzling in the darkness, all the way back to her quarters. Ser Thorne seemed to sigh in relief before taking in their debauched state and quickly leaving the scene. Criston placed her down and looked around once more before pressing her into the door, taking her bee-stung lips.

“I love you, I love you,” she sighed.

“I love you more, my princess,” Criston praised.

“Do you listen sister? What will they think when they find your maidenhead shredded?,” Rhaenyra stepped out of the gloom. The bitch took a servant’s route. Lucerra’s face reddened in anger, “Like yours was? Good thing Laenor prefers the company of his pretty squires.”

Criston balked at the brazen comment, lips curling up. The elder sister’s hands balled up, pale skin blotching up in anger. She hissed, “Enjoy your night Lucerra,” pointing at Criston she added, “I’ll see you gelded and sent to the wall.”

The future queen whipped around and left with a furious curse. Lucerra looked to Criston for comfort, getting picked up and led into her bedroom. He grumbled, “The Queen won’t allow for that. Rhaenyra has her own secrets to deal with. Relax, relax, let me get you ready for bed.” His lovely girl did so, quiet but still affectionate. Criston ignored the feeling that this would be the close to the last night.

His gut was right. Within a fortnight he stood next to the Queen, tears in his dark orbs. Rhaenyra was absconding to Dragonstone, as she was the heir. Viserys obliged her request to take her sister, indicating she would begin the processes to marry her off. Lucerra gave her goodbyes, hugging the queen, her father, and then him.

“My heart lies with you always, I love you my white knight,” she whispered gently before stepping away to climb upon her white dragon. He remained stony, utter hate in his heart for Rhaenyra Targaryen. He would make sure she never saw happiness, just as she took his.

Alicent grabbed his hand and promised, “Criston, you will have her again. I may not be her, but I will be good to you as my sworn shield.”

He would tear through bone and marrow to get that chance. For now, he would wait, wait as long as needed. Criston Cole always got what he wanted, just had to work for it. There was a war brewing and she would be on the right side. His side.

[goodqueenaly]

What do you think of Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen? I specifically ask about their political attitudes toward Daemon, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra's children, their own children (Laenor and Laena), etc.

Corlys is a character I like; but I see him acting out of ambition rather than love. But I wonder how far his ambition has gone: did he suspect that Daemon killed Laenor? Did he really like Rhaenyra's children? Did he just support Rhaenyra in power or was he also afraid of her and what she could do to him?

These questions I also extend to Rhaenys. I feel like we got little from her (And she wasn't the only one, as F&B has a lot of issues), so it's hard to say to what extent she supported Rhaenyra because she was also a woman who had her rights taken away, or if it was just out of ambition (or both).

As I know that Fire and Blood has a lot of problems (even more in the Dance), I understand if I can't do a great analysis on these two. But I would love to know what do you think about them and their attitudes!

Sorry for any grammatical errors and thanks in advance for your response!

First off, and the ask somewhat identifies this issue, one of the major problems in relying on Fire and Blood to understand the personal feelings of any of the characters within that book is that the very nature of Fire and Blood severely limits such analysis. Because we are reading about Corlys and Rhaenys (and everyone else in the roughly century and a half of history the book covers) from the ostensibly objective historian perspective of Gyldayn, a figure who lived and wrote more than a century after Corlys and Rhaenys died, we can only experience these characters at arm’s length. We are not in their heads, nor are we in the heads of any individuals directly interacting with these figures; we can only glean elements of their personality via those historical anecdotes Gyldayn chooses to share, quite the difficult prospect. Although GRRM, via Gyldayn, does sometimes invent more personal moments for his characters despite the absence of in-universe sources for such moments or the practical implausibility of Gyldayn knowing about them - think of, for example, Cregan Stark’s conversation with Alysanne Blackwood - many figures are left frustratingly vague in terms of their internal characterization. 

Consequently, Corlys and Rhaenys are, along with (albeit to varying extents) every other character in F&B, something of an enigma, at least in terms of personal thoughts and feelings. Just as I once discussed with Daemon Targaryen (in the question of his love for Rhaenyra as well as his feelings toward her “Velaryon” sons), there is very little to extrapolate from the (themselves limited) actions we have taken by Corlys and Rhaenys to determine how they personally felt about many of the people and events around them. Corlys, so far as we know, never reacted to the rumor (I think true rumor) that Daemon had his son Laenor murdered (and indeed, given his open bounty on Qarl Correy, I don’t know that Corlys ever knew or suspected as much); moreover, even if Corlys and/or Rhaenys were part of the “court and commons” outraged by the news of Daemon and Rhaenyra’s hasty marriage, this anger could well have been simply the expression of grieving parents shocked at the indecently quick remarriages (to one another) of their sometime children-in-law, and not necessarily also a reflection of any particular suspicion of Daemon. Likewise, both Corlys and Rhaenys obviously acknowledged Rhaenyra as queen following the death of Viserys I - but whether they did so solely because either or both wanted to see their “Velaryon” grandchildren on the Iron Throne, or also (and not mutually exclusively) because either or both wanted to support the claims of a female ruler in lieu of Rhaenys not becoming queen in her own right, is unanswerable. 

On top of this, I think it’s important to note that for Westerosi aristocratic society, love and political ambition aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. This is a point I made when talking about whether Ned and Catelyn would have allowed their children to marry for love alone, and it bears repeating here; even the parents (like Ned and Catelyn) who most clearly care for and love their children are operating in a socio-political system that mandates marriages be made for the advantage of their dynasties, not simply the dictates of their hearts. Rhaenys and/or Corlys can well have loved their children while also using their marriage arrangements for political advantage - and indeed, may well have seen the latter as an expression of the former, with either or both parents working for the advancement of their children as a way of showing their care for their children. To be clear, I don’t want to say every politically ambitious parent in Westeros is necessarily a loving one - Randyll Tarly had clear ambitions with both of his sons’ would-be or actualized marriage arrangements and is simultaneously a horrible human being, and that goes even more so for Tywin Lannister - only that I don’t think we as readers should automatically equate “ambitious” with “unloving”.  

In that context, I think Corlys and Rhaenys are a bit of a mixed bag. The Velaryons certainly seem to have been willing to betroth Laena at a very young age, first to King Viserys and then to the son of the Sealord of Braavos - and in at least the former case, the apparent expectation that Laena would give birth to children sooner rather than later. I’m not saying that I consider Corlys or Rhaenys equivalent to, say, Unwin Peake (and his (unnamed!) daughter) - but just as I criticized that mega-creep Rodrik Arryn for not looking after his own daughter Aemma’s welfare in marrying her off at eleven to Prince Viserys himself, I think there is room for criticism of any Westerosi parent, Corlys and Rhaenys included, who participates in the disturbing pattern of shoving their daughter into marriage and childbirth at an extremely young age. Likewise, that Corlys and Rhaenys wished to have Laenor marry Rhaenyra despite Laenor’s own, almost certainly apparent unwillingness to do so is a reflection of their participation in that same socio-political system of dynastic continuity, and the unfairness inherent to that system; Laenor was no Loras Tyrell-esque third son whose elder brothers could wed and breed (or, indeed, a Daeron I-esque eldest son who could outsource the production of an heir to a younger brother), but the only male heir of a couple whose royal ambitions predated Laenor’s own birth. Still, while I hesitate to give Corlys and Rhaenys real praise for not marrying Laena to the Sealord’s son, given that the match seemed to be as politically hollow as it was personally disastrous, but I would like to imagine that Laena was more pleased to marry Daemon than she would have been that wastrel Sealord’s son (as indeed, her marriage to Daemon does not seem to have been facially unhappy); in that light, perhaps we can give a crumb of credit to the Velaryons for matching Laena with a more personally suitable husband. Too, I do think it’s worth noting a certain sense of fondness Corlys seems to have had, perhaps less to Rhaenyra’s elder sons as individuals as much as toward their identities as specifically Velaryons: when Jacaerys loftily declared that “[o]nly Targaryens ride dragons" (emphasis in original), Corlys supposedly  “grumbled at this, insisting that the three boys were Velaryons, yet he smiled as he said it, with pride in his voice”. 

Ultimately, and frustratingly, so much of Corlys and Rhaenys as characters is left to the imaginations of readers. Unless (and probably not until) GRRM writes a novella in their POV or interacting directly with them, they remain at arm’s length, sketched rather than fleshed out as personalities.

(Once again, this is not about That Other Show and please do not use this post to talk about That Other Show.)

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐃 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: I’ve included Jace, Baela & Rhaena - they’re grown up, in their early 20s

Warnings: talks of depression, anxiety, the symptoms of them, and swears - I love swearing

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝

・Was a bit confused at first and took a while to understand, but once he did, Aemond decided that you would have the best care possible. If anyone could help you, he can and he would. 

・He always makes sure that you never go to that dark place.

・Knows the signs of when you’re getting deeper into depression and when your anxiety is getting worse

・Whenever you’re nervous, you fiddle with your rings or the fabrics around you. Whenever he’s there, he’ll take a hold of your hand and squeeze it, to let you know he’s there to look after you 

・A perk of marrying a royal means that you get all the best help from the maesters. At the beginning it was ‘get some more sunshine and fresh air,’ but now they know that Aemond won’t let those comments slide. 

・Some conditions need more than the natural elements 

・And if there’s a chance of him being able to find you better help, then he’ll spend all of his time researching 

・A lot of herbal medicines are tried, some make sleeping better, some help when the anxiety is at its peak. 

・You have so much gratitude to Aemond - because people in the past have ignored their significant others’ symptoms and pretended all was okay

・But Aemond would never do that

・If you like dragon riding then he would be honoured to help you onto the back of Vhagar. The old dragon huffed when she first saw you.

・And your knees were shaking badly, but Aemond never let go of your hand. 

・He hoisted you up onto Vhagar’s back (it took considerable effort because of how large she is) but you were determined. You HAD to do this. 

・Vhagar groaned as Aemond took his place in front of you. And you nearly left your body when she took off

・It was a running start and then suddenly you weren’t on the ground. Your arms were steel-like around Aemond’s waist and he was rubbing your leg, letting you know all was okay

・After that, you wanted to visit Vhagar every day. To at least give her food or even talk to her if you were lonely

・Turns out Vhagar loves to hear court gossip

𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧��𝐫𝐚

・Does everything in her power for you to be seen by the best maesters

・Understands the depression, and definitely the anxiety. She became severely anxious ever since the death of her mother, and with her future so murky, she didn’t know what would happen. 

・Would she become Queen? Would she let Aegon be King? She felt so alone for such a long time. But your company saved her, as did her children, Syrax and help from the maesters 

・Obviously they didn’t have proper names for what these feelings were. Depression - known as ... feeling down, anxiety ... was just overactive imagination or nervousness. 

・But when she opened up about her own experiences, it helped you a lot. Because you then knew that how you felt wasn’t a one-off, a one-time issue that only you would deal with

・It was often expected that a person having ... internal trouble should seek religious help. If that helped you, then great. But if it didn’t then Rhaenyra made sure that the maesters would never suggest it again

・She takes you out dragon riding for as long as you need (Syrax is usually the one to want to finish before you) 

・Flying above towns, cities, fields and oceans - it did help. A lot. It made you see things clearly. 

・And Rhaenyra would take you flying whenever you needed to. 

・Getting Syrax to comply was another issue though ...

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧

・Has so much love for you that the thought of you in pain causes him pain

・Out of everyone, he would be the most likely to brighten your life with another being ... a surprise ... a pet

・On a random day he makes you close your eyes, and leads you into the bed chambers where you hear little yelps and whines 

・With furrowed brows, you wait until he tells you to open your eyes and places a furry, wiggling pup in your arms 

    “Oh my gods,” you say, looking down at the pure white dog.

“Do you like him?” Harwin says, rubbing a floppy ear. 

    “Y-yes!” You say, absolutely bewildered... flabberghasted...shocked. 

“What are you going to name him?” 

・You had no idea what you were going to call him. But after a few nights you knew...

   “I’ve chosen, and I’m going to name him ‘Nox’. On account of the fact that he keeps knocking things over...”

・It wasn’t just a himbo decision; there was reasoning behind this choice. Harwin knew he had responsibilities that he wasn’t powerful enough to avoid. So, he got you a companion that you would have to spend time looking after

・Wherever you went, four paws followed. 

・He was the perfect match to your personality. He wasn’t overbearing (well as a puppy yes), and loved to sleep. But demanded affection. 

・You had no idea where Harwin got the pup but it soon grew larger and larger. 

・And you swore at night you had dreams of ... being Nox. Seeing things from his perspective. In the morning, you would find that doors you had opened in your dream were opened in real life ... 

𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚

・Her personality is very forceful, so she won’t put up with anyone making you feel uncomfortable 

・If you’re in public and someone is stepping over a boundary, she will shut that shit down. 

・Knows that seeing Moondancer brightens your day, so she has no problem with letting you two interact. 

・She’s great at encouraging you and giving pep talks. 

・Likes to help take your mind off of its troubles with adventures. Going out into the markets in disguises, travelling to different cities (much like her mother and father did) 

・Introduces you to pillow screaming - covering your face with a pillow and letting out the most blood curdling scream you can muster

・Baela has used this technique in the past many times

・If being with your family helps you, then she will take you to them and be by your side for as long as you desire

・If your family is part of the problem then she takes you far away from them

・Part of her love language is physical touch - she covers your face with kisses every morning and evening 

・Whenever you see each other after being apart, she will grab your hand and kiss the back of it 

・Gift giving is another love language for Baela. She’s given you a special gemstone in a unique pendant shape that she got made to remind you of her. 

・She loves getting you up and dancing. Whether it’s fast-paced or slow, she knows that movement helps

𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧

・He’s instinctually aware of where you are, who you’re with and what you’re up to. 

・You have different plans for how you’re feeling. 

He stays with you all day (usually when depression hits hard and you can’t get out of bed. He’ll cancel everything and take care of you)

Takes on your responsibilities as well as his own, so you can do whatever you want for the day - but he leaves you be

He attends the difficult meetings with you, but other then that, you can handle it 

・Daemon asks you the same question every morning, and he knows how the day is going to go by your answer 

・If you want to carry on with your duties, then he’ll ask which plan you want to go ahead with 

・He adores you and understands that your emotions affect you deeply

・Has never judged you for it - because you understand that he feels certain things deeply too

・When you were at the darknest he’d ever seen you, Daemon really didn’t know what to do. Nothing he said seemed to help. You couldn’t stop the anxiety, the depressed thoughts. 

・So he took you to see Caraxes. The dragon that had only one other winged friend. 

・You two hit it off, even if you were trembling. 

・There was a lot of solace in knowing that even the most glorious of creatures can be unliked by its fellow bretheren

・You found a real friend in Caraxes. The Blood Wyrm. Really, all one has to do is give him some attention and he’s putty in your hands...

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

・Understands, and because you’re so dear to her, she’s constantly worried about you

・Her father instilled the anxiety of having her children killed if Rhaenyra was to be crowned.

・And Alicent never had true love. She felt alone but smothered, when she became Queen. 

・So, she threw herself into the roles that she must play. Devoted wife, mother, and upheld the traditions that had been passed down from one to another. 

・But Alicent did let religion rule her, and whenever she felt down - she went and prayed 

・That’s what she guided you to do, and took you to pray every day

・Did it help? Only you can say. 

・But it was obvious that Alicent loved you, because she looked to the maesters for help. 

・And she forced them to search day and night, to find something to help you

・Sends maids to make sure that your chambers are clean. But she comes in to help you bathe herself. 

・It isn’t a sensual experience. But one where you feel safe, and cared for. There’s no underlying intent, nothing other than making sure that you’re physically healthy 

・She even brushes your hair, gently stroking the back of your neck when she’s done 

・When you entered her life, you changed it incredulously. Now she wants to pay back the favour

・Reads to you. Books upon books are stacked in your room for ease of access. You choose which one each day, some she’s read five times in one week. 

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞

・Has felt the deepest parts of grief, and never wants you to feel that much hurt - so he asks people how to make you better

・Tries things that have helped him 

・But that mostly revolves around dragon riding 

・And if you don’t like dragon riding then he’ll take you horse riding, bcause he knows that’s the closest thing (and you feel a lot safer) 

・With riding, it’s like grasping true freedom. There’s nothing to worry about, just feeling the air crisp and whipping your hair out of your face. Then the beast between your thighs, the sturdiness of it. 

・It is an incredible mood booster. And Jace would take you to buy your own horse, maybe a beautiful mare or a blazing stallion. 

・Like having your own dragon; you name it and see it every day. 

・Soon your horse would be so used to you that it would be fine with taking you anywhere. 

・If you like dragon riding, then Vermax will take you anywhere you want to go. The green youngling has made his own relationship with you, so you brighten each others day when you see one another 

・In the year that have passed, Vermax grows to nearly the size of Syrax (when Rhaenyra was first entering motherhood that it)

・And so when Jace met you, Vermax was just big enough for two to ride. 

・After forming a relationship with the dragon, which didn’t take too long (it was your fear that held you back for many years, so you didn’t fly until three years into the marriage)

・Vermax makes these happy noises whenever he sees you. Flapping his wings about, shrieking in delight 

     “I think you’ve stolen my dragon...” Jace says with a smirk

“No, only his heart,” you reply back, giving him a nudge. 

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚

・Hates that you have to feel negative emotions. It’s something that she’s even told you. 

・It made you smile

   “I mean it! You’re just so...lovely,” she said one morning, holding your face in her hands. She littered kisses on your face afterward. 

・Makes you things to brighten your day

・Stitches your favourite animal, using your favourite colours, or maybe your favourite phrase

・Surprises you with little tokens in your room for you to find 

・Takes you to the dragonpit to see Dreamfyre (who is always happy to see you. She waits for you to hold your hand out so she can nuzzle against it) 

・Doesn’t push you, or make you leave your comfort zone. It’s just the type of person she is. 

・Helaena is like a fairy; it’s as if she has wings of her own and a sparkling glow. Especially when she’s outside. 

・That’s where she likes to take you - outside in the sunlight, the servants laying out a blanket for the two of you. Plates of nibbly food surrounding you. 

・She loves when you put your head in her lap. (Yes, parallel to young Alicent and Rhaenyra,)

・Helaena loves humming while stroking your hair, gently running her finger over your face; nose, cheeks, eyelids, chin.

・One of the best experiences was when you two had a picnic with Dreamfyre

・You two flew onto a lovely hillside, not too far from King’s Landing, but far enough that you were alone/wouldn’t be bothered by anything or anyone 

・You had your head in her lap, and she laid her back against Dreamfyre, who had wrapped herself around the two of you

・That memory is what you hold onto when the darkest days find you

𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

・Has so much love for you

・Does everything to make you comfortable - even going out of his way to make himself look like a fool if it meant you weren’t nervous 

・After asking you a few questions about how you’re feeling, he’d spend hours upon hours of researching in the library/book collections to find whatever he can. 

・Climbs into bed whenever you can’t get out of it, and holds your hand until you fall back asleep

・Loves making you laugh! He’s found that once you’ve had a good laugh, you feel loads better. So he thinks of situations where humour can be created. Is it manipulative? ... Yes, but ... good manipulation. 

・Daeron is known as the gentlest of Viserys’ sons. That’s both physically, emotionally and in personality

・He handles you with so much care, sometimes you feel unworthy of such love 

・Once you said that to him and he nearly cried from how ridiculous it was to him. 

    “I love you, and you deserve to be loved.”

・You have no issue with crying in front of him. He wants you to express your emotions as honestly as you can

・Loves when you two stow away together and have these deep talks about life and what everything means 

・Is really good with his words, so he somehow knows exactly the right thing to say 

・Tessarion has no issue with you - not even at the beginning. Like her rider, she’s an open minded being, who has another sense of the core of who a person is. 

・The she-dragon accepted you easily, and you became known as a trio. 

・Not just Daeron and Tessarion, but Daeron, Y/N and Tessarion. One was barely seen without the other. 

𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚

・Very similar to Helaena, she has a very sweet heart

・But has a lot more self-awareness and ... wit/sharpness

・So she goes through a lot of practical options in helping you take care of yourself. For example, getting more sunlight, travelling to the seaside, playing with Morning etc. 

・Morning isn’t large enough for two riders, but you love being around her. 

・She’s incredibly beautiful. Glistening pink scales - she was true magic 

・Rhaena was relentless in helping you. She even went through the spiritual aspect and if that wouldn’t work, then she would find something to help. Herbs, medicines - something had to help you

・And not once did she make you feel as if you were a burden, nor the only one who felt this way. 

・Day and night she would stay with you if that’s what it took to chase the darkness away

・Couldn’t bear the sight of you in pain, so she tells you stories and usually that takes your mind off of the darkness for a while 

・She makes the best stories. Rhaena bases them on people she knows, and there are a lot of dragon stories

・Wherever Rhaena went, light seemed to follow

・Makes sure you’ve bathed; fills the tub herself, putting in the best smelling oils and flowers. 

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Could you please write a darkDaemon x stepdaughter fic where he forces himself on the reader after he saw her kissing Aemond.

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Daemon Targaryen x Stepdaughter!Reader

summary: Daemon forces himself on the reader after he saw her kissing Aemond.

Word count: 1,5K

Warnings: Angst, rape, grooming

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"You look so beautiful in that dress" Aemond flirted with a smirk on his lips. He buried his face in your neck, breath tickling your neck.

"I wore it for you" You responded. Fingers running over the sapphire blue silk. He pulled his face back showing the shit-eating grin on his face.

"Is that so, my love?" He tilted his head teasingly. Your relationship with Aemond was a secret that no one knew of because of the bad relationship he had with your mother, and his sister.

"Of course, who else would I wear such a color for?" You teased back. He chuckled leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. Your fingers threaded through his long locks that felt as smooth as the silk of your dress. His hands rested on your hips respectfully not to touch somewhere that made you uncomfortable.

"What in the seven hells!" The rough voice of your stepfather echoed in the deserted hallway. Aemond pulled away in a flash having registered that you were caught faster than you.

"Uncle" He moved you to the side in case Daemon decided to use more than his words.

"How dare you seduce a princess, the heir of princess Rhaenyra?" Daemon stalked closer to you and Aemond's hiding spot. Aemond put his arm in front of you in an attempt to protect you.

"He did not seduce me, I am here willingly" You protested wanting to protect Aemond. Daemon's gaze moved over to you, then his eyes trailed to your dress seeing it for the real reason it was worn and the color was chosen.

"Is that so?" Daemon smirked, it made you feel uneasy, nothing good ever came when he showed his calmer side. In a flash, Aemond was on the ground clutching his jaw. You screamed in shock at the violent act your stepfather chose.

"You will never touch her again" Daemon hissed sending another punch to Aemond's face and making his head bounce on the ground You tried to pull Daemon away but to no use, he pushed you off and resumed his assault on his nephew.

"Kepa, please stop" Father. You begged trying even harder to pull him off succeeding but regretted it immediately when Daemon chose to kick Aemond in the face rendering up useless as he fell unconscious with blood and bruises all over his face.

"Oh gods" You tried kneeling down by Aemond's side but Daemon pulled you up before you could.

"You deserve a punishment, tala" Daughter. Daemon's face was no short of evil. You gulped afraid for the first time. Since you were young you heard the stories about your stepfather and his sadistic ways but have never seen them firsthand until today.

"Punishment?" You questioned tilting your head to the side. Daemon chose not to respond and pulled you away from the hallway. Dragging you to your bedchambers despite your protests to help Aemond who was still laying on the ground unmoving.

"Uncle we have to help him" You begged as he pushed you into the room. He closed and barred the doors so no one would interrupt his punishment.

"He will live" Was his response. He moved to sit on one of the chairs by your fireplace but there was no fire there since the weather was warm and your dragon egg had hatched many years ago.

"First you will receive your punishment, come here tala" Daughter. He opened his hand for you to take. Daemon has always been gentle with you as if you were his real daughter. You shakily stepped closer to him not knowing what your punishment will be, you have never received one even as a child. You placed your soft hand into his much rougher and calloused hand.

"You have been a very bad girl, tala" Daughter. His voice had lowered making him seem even more dangerous. You shook with fear, would he be cruel to you as people said he was?

"Kneel" He ordered. Your eyes widened in shock but still did as he demanded and kneeled between his wide-open legs. He smirked proudly at the sight of you so submissive.

"You used your mouth for a very bad thing, tala" Daughter. He teased. His other hand ran through your brown locks matching your brothers Jace, Luce, and Joffery.

"What is my punishment, Kep?" Father. You asked innocently. He groaned closing his eyes tightly for a couple of seconds. You noticed him shift a little in his seat.

"I will show you what your mouth should be doing instead, tala" Daughter. He responded. Your eyes widened when his hand moved from holding your own to undoing the laces of his breeches.

"Kepa, please no" Father. You shook your head fearing whatever he wanted of you. Your septa have warned you before to never let a man with his breeches off near your or to touch him or be touched by his parts.

"Shhhh, tala, kepa has the right to punish you for being a bad girl" Daughter, father. He assured patting your head. Your eyes unconsciously wandered down to his shaft eyeing it as he pulled it out, he was long with some girth to him and there was a vein running down the side.

"Suck, tala" Daughter. He gave your head a small push in the direction of his erection. You shook your head feeling tears build up in your eyes. You cannot do that to the man your mother has married.

"I said suck!" He demanded harshly. He pushed your face closer but you refused to open your lips. His other hand moved to your jaw pressing harshly forcing you to open your mouth before shoving the tip into your mouth. You tried protesting but only muffled sounds and vibrations left your mouth making him even more aroused.

"That's a good girl" He groaned forcing you to take more of him in your mouth. You cried trying to push yourself away with by placing your hands on his still-covered thighs but to no use, he was stronger.

"You feel so good" He moaned throwing his head back. You hated yourself when you felt growing wet at the sound of his moans. You closed your eyes and gave a small suck earning a louder moan.

"You're such a whore" He chuckled darkly. One of his hands trailed down to deliver a harsh slap to your bottom. You yelped almost biting down on his shaft. Finally, you were able to push yourself off of him ending up on your bottom.

"I am not a whore" You protested tears streaming down your face. Daemon smirked standing up from the chair and stepping closer to you again. He crouched down to your height.

"No? then why do you suck your kepa's cock so well?" Father. He asked teasingly. You whined growing angry at yourself when his words made you aroused but you will not let yourself fall for him.

"I want another punishment, you are my kepa!" Father. You yelled slamming a hand on the ground angrily. Daemon's smirk slipped off his face at your words.

"Another punishment?" He stood up. You screamed when he grabbed your hair harshly and pulled you to your feet.

"I'll give you another punishment" He moved to your bed throwing you on your stomach.

"No" You tried getting up but he climbed on top of you using his weight to hold you down as he moved your dress and other layers up your hips. He ripped your small cloth easily.

"You asked for this, tala" Daughter. He reminded. You cried out feeling him push inside of you painfully slowly as if he was teasing himself.

"I was content with you sucking my cock but no you had to be a brat" He broke your maidenhead on the way in. He threw his head back when he was fully seated inside of you. Your body shivered and withered from the pain.

"Leave me be, Daemon" This was the first time you had used his name ever since he married your mother. He snapped his hips in a painful, punishing harsh thrust.

"I am not Daemon to you, I am kepa" Father. He hissed leaning forward in rhythm with his thrusts to whisper in your ear. You wanted to puke, you felt so dirty and ashamed.

"Please stop, kepa" Father. You begged and oh how sweet it sounded to his ear. He moaned loudly fastening the speed of his thrusts pulsing with need, he was near.

"Stop" You begged thrashing around. You did not want him to spill himself inside of you.

"Shhh" Was all he could master as his release crashed over him like a wave.

"No" You sobbed feeling his warm seed spurt inside of you. He chuckled seeing the way your body shook with every sob.

"Sweet tala, took your kepa's cock so well and let him seed you" Daughter, father. He whispered in your ear. You shivered as he pulled his shaft out of you watching with a twinkle in his eyes as his cum oozed out of your hole.

"I hate you" You whispered moving away from him to sit on the edge of your bed with your knees pressed up to your chest.

"No you sweet girl, you don't" He crawled closer to you. You tried moving away despite the ache in between your legs but he was faster pulling your body closer to his.

"Sweet girl this was a lesson for you, never go near that cyclops ever again" He whispered against your hair. You sobs turning your back to him crying in the sheets as he held you from behind keeping you close to his body making sure you felt his cock grow hard again at the sound of your crying.

[spacerockfloater]

House of the Dragon, Season 2, Episode 1: Discussion

Overall, I did not like the episode at all.

First of all, am I crazy or was the whole scene at Winterfell and the Wall purely fanservice so that HOTD can gain the sympathy of old fans? I mean, it lasted like, 2 minutes, and added nothing to the plot. Cregan’s speech was amusing though.

Daemon didn’t let a single moment go to waste before he started acting like a king. Typical and at least consistent with his character.

Sigh. Preparing myself for the backlash I’m going to receive for this. I did not like the way Rhaenyra’s and Jace’s emotions were portrayed. Where was the shock? The agony? The horror? The pain? Too much silent grief for someone who just found out that their son/ brother was murdered. Hell, Rhaena showed more emotion than both of them combined and we saw her face for merely a second.

Good for my girl Alicent for finally getting some I guess, but the Alicole sex scenes were weak as fuck. No passion, no chemistry. It was robotic as shit. All that subtle tension between them during the first season led to nothing. Rushed as fuck and not at all what they made us think it would be. Provided absolutely zero context. Boring as hell, too. Thank fuck that it was leaked because it would have been a jumpscare. Nothing could have prepared me for it, it came out of nowhere.

Alicent standing her ground against Otto was surprisingly very good. I loved seeing her take the lead. And it was touching to see her light a candle for Luc, too.

Aegon II was very entraining. Refreshing to see him try to be a good king, actually care for his subjects and love his son. Distracts you from the fact that he’s still a stupid unseasoned teenager. Looking forward to some more character development on his part.

Now, what the actual fuck could Aemond ever possibly have to be angry about? Didn’t he just have his revenge? Who is he so pissed at?

Daemon and his murder cloak are the strongest ship in HOTD, which they should rename to “House of Misunderstandings” at this point.

I nearly pissed myself when Cheese’s super secret hidden path through the castle, that only he as a specialist knows, was crossing the fucking throne room on their tippy toes. Did they sneak back outside to meet Daemon the same way while leaving a bloody trail behind them? Are the writers actually insane? Who gave that shit the green light? Why does the door to Aemond’s room open by a lever? Is he Batman? Where the actual fuck was literally everyone? The guards? The servants? The ladies of honour? How was the fucking queen all alone?

And lastly, speaking of the queen… Oh my God. This was the most anticlimactic scene in the whole episode. I nearly fell asleep. I don’t know what’s Helaena’s deal, like is she neurodivergent? Is she just not fazed by anything because she has already seen everything play out in her head before it actually happens? It’s never explained and it makes it so infuriating that she looks just… concerned. Not traumatized or shocked, just perplexed and worried, lol. She pointed to her son faster than lightning. Did she just want all of it end as fast as possible? No idea. All the tragedy of the situation was removed. Luc’s death was much more impactful and shook the audience. This seemed so underwhelming and stale. And then Helaena quietly goes to her mother’s room, walks past her riding Criston like this happens to her every Tuesday, sits down, refers to her own son as “the boy”, and looks slightly distraught. Dian Doesn’t even shed a single tear. Nothing like the mourning woman gone mad by grief we saw in the trailer, though maybe we just have to wait I suppose. Like, lol okay. This was not giving like y’all promised it would. The only grotesque thing about it was listening to them sawing Jaehaerys’ head off.

The episode felt rushed as fuck and has severely reduced my interest in hating or loving any of the characters. There’d better be some top notch acting next Sunday or I’m dropping the show.

All opinions are welcome, just please be civil to one another!

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Seven

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Oh my goodness, an early update from me?? How crazy!  I never update early the world must be ending. I know it's only like a day, but still, it's a day early! For someone reason, it was super easy to write. I don't know what that says about me. xD I want to thank y'all sooooo much for constantly supporting me. When I first started this fic, I honestly thought nobody would read it and that those who did would hate bomb me. Everyone who has commented has been super nice to me, and I honestly can't thank you enough for it. I do want to warn you, though, that there's going to be a chapter in the distant future where were discuss Aegon's not-so-consensual activities. That's all I'm going to say about that. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a steamy one toward the end. ;)

Chapter Warnings: Flash Back, Somnophilia

Prince Daemon opened the door to Madam's brothel like a dark cloud, slowly traveling with the threat of a storm, Dark Sister tapping the frame. Rage was his presence as he entered, though his outward appearance seemed as if he was unbothered. He was on a mission, and he had only one question.

"Where is she?" He asked the first woman he saw, a client on her arm. She smiled at him sweetly.

"Give me one moment Ser, so I can escort this handsome patron out, and I will be right with you." She buttered the man up, her words a purr in his ear as she stroked his cheek.

Daemon rolled his eyes, taking three long strides to the girl and grabbing her by the arm. "You will listen to me and listen well. Forget this fool." She whimpered, letting go of the man's arm as she went to shield her face.

"I am Prince Daemon Targaryen, the man who created the very Gold Cloaks that will burn this establishment to the ground should I snap my fingers." She nodded, eyes teary and lips quivering. The girl was confused and caught unaware by the Prince's presence. He had not been here in quite some time, ever the loyal husband to Princess Rhaenyra. 

"Where is Madam?" He seethed through gritted teeth at her prolonged silence. The whore took a shaking breath, hesitating momentarily as she glanced at Dark Sister, deciding the truth would be better than Valyrian steel through her stomach. 

She leads Daemon to a back room, hidden and out of the way so no simple-minded customers could mistakenly enter. A small fire was lit, and a cast iron cauldron hung over it as Madam stood hunched, her shoulders shaking.

"Madam," the girl spoke softly, and she straightened her posture, wiping at her face as she turned to scold the worker, but stopped short, seeing a former star patron.

"Prince Daemon," she curtsied, sniffling to clear her nose, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" Madam knew she was playing a dangerous game.

"You know exactly why I am here," he replied firmly. Madam tilted her head at her worker, silently telling her working girl to leave.

"I am not sure I do. You know better than anyone that there is no need to come directly to me in order to schedule a session," she said dismissively. 

Of course, Madam knew precisely why he was here. It was the exact reason why she was crying.

"Do not play dumb, Babette. Where is Elaina?" He asked, losing patience.

"I already told you this many years ago when you first asked. My answer has not changed. She went back home to the North." Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes again as he stepped closer.

"I may have believed that lie once, but not anymore. She has no ties to her family." Madam sighed, shaking her head and raising her arms as if talking to a belligerent child.

"I am not sure what you want me to say, Your Grace. That was all the explanation she gave me before disappearing."

Daemon growled, charging at the poor woman and pushing her against the fireplace by her neck. Madam could not react, nearly falling into the simmering stew pot as she grappled for purchase.

"Stop protecting her, Babette; I have no intention to harm. I need answers," he spat.

"I have none to give," she relented, ever the strong woman from years prior. 

"Stop lying to me!" He yelled, shoving her into the hearth, her head smacking the stone. "Where is Elaina? Where is my child?"

Madam was a force to be reckoned with herself, but when put against the Rogue Prince, the man crowned King of the Step Stones, she had no choice but to yield. Her years of hardening were not meant to withstand the flames of a dragon.

"Elaina is dead, thanks to the babe you put in her belly, and that child-- my child," Daemon's grip loosened, a lump beginning to form in his throat, "that I have raised into a beautiful young woman has been taken by your eldest nephew for reasons unknown to me,"

Sadness replaced his rage, a dark, depressing feeling shadowing in the pit of his stomach. 

Yet another woman in his life has died from childbirth—his mother, sister-in-law, wife, and now a former mistress. Did the cycle of maternal loss ever end? The water wheel that was the Targaryen's customs was spun by endless blood and loss. Daemon's face was stone, though his heart was not. A twitch of his lip indicated he was upset by the news of Elaina's death.

Finally, he stepped away from Madam. Was he destined to lose every woman he had cared for on the birthing bed? What would become of Rhaenyra? She had just given birth to Joffrey not nearly two years ago, and she was already filled with the starts of another. She had been lucky, but the Gods' favor only lasted so long. What would become of you once put in that same spot?

"She is with Aegon, yes?" He questioned Babette, sniffing once as he rested his hand on Dark Sister. She nodded, cradling her wounded head, blood painting her fingers. "The Gods only know what that drunkard has done to her," Daemon said as he swiftly left the brothel, a new mission on his mind.

Lyra ducked into an alcove. Her grey cloak covered most of her recognizable face, the shadows of the secret entrance aiding her efforts. The layout of the many secret passages into the Red Keep was slowly becoming etched in her memory. She needed to know them like the back of her hand.

Her little apple, she thought somberly, her heart aching in the palms of gluttonous high-borns. Left to be eaten until there is nothing.

Madam had sheltered you too much from the reality of the world. You were too kind to bare the Targaryen name, too innocent to become a part of their "holier than thou" culture. You were not stupid, Lyra knew that, but your ignorance was simply due to a purposeful lack of knowledge on Madam's part. Unlike most girls your age, you knew about sex, the pleasures a man could receive, but you still had the inexperience as them, and without some trustworthy to guide you... there was no telling what path you might follow.

Lyra stopped at an almost invisible door, the wood untreated and dark within the shadows. She used her knuckles to knock a rhythm into the door, short and legato sounding. She waited, her anxiety boiling inside her stomach as she bounced on her feet. The passing time seemed too long. By now, someone would've opened the door.

"Lyra, you must leave. The castle is in a tizzy with the arrival of-"

Lyra didn't wait for the servant dressed in red to finish, shoving her way into the bustling kitchen of the Red Keep.

"Lyra, I cannot help you right now," Sara chased, tugging her friend's arm. "They are preparing a feast for the royal family!"

Lyra ignored her, running to another hidden servant's passage, her leather shoes tapping on the worn stone floors.

"Where is she," Lyra asked, sprinting up multiple steps. "I must see her. I need to tell her to wait." Sara tripped up the stairs, catching her skirt as Lyra gained more distance.

"If you would take a moment, Lyra, I could tell you," she huffed, catching up to her old friend at the top of the passage. "They are at dinner," Sara finally answered, her breathing ragged. "She met Daemon. I observed through the walls. He was kind to her. I believe there is no ill-will between them."

"That is a relief to hear; truly, it is Sara, but the things I have listened to since she left..." Lyra trailed off, "a girl of her age should not be partaking in such activities. She is far too young to comprehend the consequences fully."

"That is hypocritical, Lyra," Sara scolded, crossing her arms. "I remember us during girlhood. We were not much better."

"That was different," Lyra said. She dismissed any more attempts of scolding from Sara, opening the door as the sounds of music seeped through the crack.

She could see you dancing, hopping back and forth like a rabbit with Princess Halaena. Lyra could not help but smile. Seeing the joy on your face was infectious. It had become a rare sight over the past moons. Partly, because you had just gotten your cycle, your body readying itself to fill its biological purpose. A part of her almost felt guilty for trying to ruin your night with the plans of your escape.

Your laughter carried into Lyra's hiding place as you lifted the Princess. Lyra slowly shut the door, a wan smile covering her face. It might do you good to extend your stay at the Red Keep. You could live as a girl, make friends and play as you never could. It would give Madam a sense of ease to know you were well and to gather the needed supplies for your trip across the Narrow Sea.

Sara gave Lyra a confused look as she retraced her steps. She still needed to memorize them. You would be safe for now, and that was all that mattered as Lyra slinked back to Flea Bottom.

Daemon had escorted you to your room after dinner, silent the entire way. You were thankful for that; if he had sparked conversation, you could not have held back your grin.

Of course, you were still upset with Aegon for stealing you away and keeping his real reason for wanting you at the castle, but how he looked at you... He made you feel like you were the only person worth looking at in a room full of royalty... It made your heart feel full.

Perhaps you were too harsh in judging him? He is still a person growing into an adult, the same as you. You acted immaturely with Ma, and he acted stupidly with you. You would forgive him, just as Ma forgave you.

You thought of Daemon, wondering what was running through his head during that silence. You understood that people believed you were his daughter, but your mother was not alive to claim it as such.

Sara calmly unbraided your hair as Caldia fluffed your pillows, and one of the other girls you had come to find out was named Izola laid a thin buttoned nightgown on the bed. It was nice to be dotted on, feeling more important than you were as your eyes became heavy.

It reminded you of the nights you and Aunt Lyra would pamper each other. She would use extra wages on the day off to gather pastries, flowers, and sweets. You would sit and listen to her odd stories of patrons for that week about how one man wanted her to call him "brother" and cried after he came. You would laugh and laugh as you both stuffed your mouths full.

Suddenly, your chest hurt, your heart skipping a beat, fluttering rapidly to regain its set pace. You clenched your fist, placing it over your heaving breasts as you tried to steady your breathing. It felt like you had fallen from a great distance and landed on your back. Tears swelled in your eyes as your body panicked, unsure of how to respond as it betrayed itself.

"My Lady," Sara spoke with concern in her voice. She had stopped unbraiding your hair, her hands on your shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you alright?" She asked, turning to see your frightened expression.

The other girls came rushing over, like swans landing on a pond, as they all gathered around you with concerned looks.

"My Lady, what has upset you?" Izola questioned as she put the back of her hand to your temple.

"My..." You stuttered, clutching your beating chest. "My... Heart," you gasped, confused and scared about what was happening. "I want Auntie Lyra. I want Ma. Where is she?"

You couldn't think straight. Your mind attempted to grasp what was happening, reverting to a terrified child after a nightmare.

"Ma is not here. You are in the Red Keep," Sara attempted to soothe you, unsure whether she should reveal what she knew.

"I-I want to go home," your voice was thick with shedding tears.

"You..." Sara glanced around, unsure, her voice becoming soft and pointed, trying to convey a message with her tone. "You are home."

"No," you cried, yanking at the collar of your dress. "I want to go home! I want to be with my family!"

The gown no longer held beauty when you gazed upon it. All you saw were hands.

You were screaming, your eyes blinded by tears as you stumbled into the vanity, falling to the stone floor. Dozens of pale jeweled fingers become your skin, trying to penetrate your flesh. They consumed you, curling inside as you attempted to pry them away. You pulled and swatted at them, but nothing worked. A never-ending cycle would appear as soon as you broke free of one another.

"Get off," you shrieked, "get away from me!"

You couldn't think. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see. All you could do was feel their burrowing digits wiggling into you.

"Ma!" You screamed again, though you knew she wasn't coming. "Ma! Ma!" Your voice cracked, sounding thick with saliva.

You heard a loud crashing noise in the background, and you turned to look, but one of the hands gripped your face, forcing you to look back at them. You could see them gnawing like rats through your flesh and bone. Before you realized it, you were being lifted, the bejeweled fingers still all over your skin as someone shoved you into a chair.

Suddenly, they all vanished under a curtain of water, and you finally regained all your senses, looking at staring faces.

Caldia stood panting, a silver bucket in her grip. The other two maids were there, along with the Guard who was stationed outside your room. Sara and Izola were holding each other, their faces red and tears brimming their eyes. They must have seen them too... the hands.

"I came as swiftly as the Gods allowed," an older gentleman in pious brown robes said, bursting into your chambers with another man dressed similarly with a leather bag.

"Maester Mellos," Sara greeted in relief. She released Izola and thanked him with a squeeze. "I do not know what happened. One moment I was readying her for bed; the next..." She trailed off, looking at you with concern.

The Maester turned, seeing a girl who looked like she had run from one end of the Keep to the other, then averted his eyes swiftly.

"For God's sake. Give this girl some clothes."

You lowered your head. While in your fit, you had split the gown down to the waist; you only tore your small clothes a little higher. You covered yourself in shame, and embarrassment biting your ears. Caldia dropped the pale and grabbed your night dress from the beautifully patterned silk bed while Sara and Izola went to pull the tattered slit to keep your modesty.

Maester Mellows continued his examination, listening to your heart and touching your neck and underarms for anything abnormal. His companion took notes, a leather-bound book and feather quill in hand as the Maester whispered his findings. Your handmaids stood in the background, each with worried expressions.

One with a hand over their pursed lips, the middle looking between you and the stone floor, the other with arms crossed tightly around their chest, swaying slightly.

"She seems to be in good health," Maester Mellos declared. All three women sighed in relief, whispering thanks to the Seven. "Though her heart beats like a wild stallion, even when resting." As he continued, their faces dropped, fear rising to replace their short-lived relief. "I recommend deep breathing exercises to steady the pulse, but if something like this were to occur again..."

He motioned to his assistant, taking his bag and rummaging through it until he found what he was searching for. "Take a spoonful of this. Not a drop more."

He handed you an amber-colored glass bottle, a cork keeping it tightly sealed as you accepted it with trembling hands, letting him know you understood.

"Child, do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?" You lowered your gaze as your pride made your tongue feel like lead.

Maester Mellos sighed through his nose, kneeling to your height and placing a hand in your shaking ones.

"Tis alright, my girl. All women suffer hysteria from time to time. A punishment that all suffer in this time. Just do as I ask and all will be well." His tone was soft and kind, as a grandfather would speak to their grandchild, but the contents made you feel insulted.

He uncorked the bottle with a pop, getting a spoon from his bag as he poured the liquid into the bowl. You opened your mouth as he raised it, wrapping your dry lips around the cold silver. It was tan, almost the same color as molasses, and you began to feel skeptical of the powers this magic potion was implied to have.

You nearly spat it out from the taste. It was a bitter flavor worse than the absinthe Aegon gave you and burned your throat just the same. You didn't think to ask what it was, too focused on not spitting up as you forced yourself to swallow, taking a gulp of air with you and burping afterward.

"Rest now, child; the Seven smile down upon you. Thank the Maiden for this being your only ailment, and pray to the others for your continued health. You will be well in no time if you devote yourself to that." You nodded again, pushing yourself out of the chair wordlessly as you climbed into your bed, your handmaid hurrying to help you.

The Maester and his companion took their leave with a swift bow, the Guard escorting them out of your chambers and leaving the four of you alone. You had been nothing but a calm, albeit stubborn, guest in the Red Keep, and they were more concerned than anything. You could sense that they had questions, wanting to know where this sudden outburst came from.

The day had taken too much from you, and you had no more energy to speak as they pulled the silk sheets to your chest, tucking you in as Ma or Lyra would. You had begun to feel the effects of whatever Maester Mellos had given you as the girls left. Your limbs were heavy, and you felt your body and mind relax, sinking deeper and deeper onto a bed of clouds.

Aegon had drowned himself in his cups as always, but he did not desire to explore the Streets of Silk as he usually would at this hour. He sat on the stairwell leading down to your bed chamber hallway, waiting patiently until he saw everyone leave. Seeing the Maester as one of them did startle him a bit. What had happened in the time he was not with you?

He realized then that his little dragon could not be left unattended. He must be with you at all times lest something happen. It would be a difficult task for Aegon, yes, but he would do it. He would do it for you. You were his hatchling, after all. His and only his.

The eldest Prince waited a few more moments until he was sure your ladies would not return. He pulled himself up onto wobbly legs as he descended the stairs, dragging his fingers along the corridor until he felt a familiar little divot.

Aegon opened the wall into a hidden passageway connected to the many others that led out of the castle, but he didn't intend to leave tonight. Everything that he desired was right here in these very Redstone walls.

He traveled until he saw the familiar patch of stone that signified your room, making sure his drunk legs did not make a sound in case you had fallen asleep. Aegon pushed the wall slowly, careful not to have the stone scrape the ground as he peered through the crack.

Aside from lit candles on your bedside tables, there was no light in your chambers. He pushed the door partly open so that he could slink through, still as quiet as a mouse as he went to the lump on the side of the bed. He called out softly to not scare you, but as you did not move, he continued and sat on your mattress. Still, you did not stir. Your lips parted slightly as drool leaked onto your cheek. He leaned over, gently swiping away the spit, and finally, you roused, only moving from your side to your back, the covers below your chest.

Your nightgown had come unbuttoned, exposing the glistening valley between your breasts. It stopped short of fully revealing what he longed to see to Aegon, much to his disappointment. He traced his finger over your skin, sticky from the summer night's heat, and you, once again, did not move. He was mildly concerned you did not wake from his touch, but it did not stop him, his cock growing hard in his trousers.

He knew in his mind that if you had been awake, you would not let him touch you as he did, moving the fabric over to free one of your breasts. And the fact that you were not conscious right now, your body unable to reject or accept his advances, made him groan.

Aegon moved, swinging a leg over so you were in between his. Surely this would be when you would wake, kick, and scream at him until he left. But no, you laid beneath him like a log, and he grinned. Indeed this was a sign from the Gods you wanted him. In sleep, your body did not see him as a threat, which meant you truly desired him; your conscious mind did not know it yet.

His needy cock became too much, and he freed it from the confines of his pants. The head was a ruddy pink from his rushing blood, his thick shaft pulsing in time with the hammering of his heart.

He removed your other breast from your nightgown, the nipples taught and ready for him to pinch. One hand found the base of his member, the other groping and massaging the sensitive flesh. It only made him go faster, his hand pumping in shorter and quicker strokes. To his luck, you were still sound asleep, with no expression as to whether you felt him.

Aegon wanted to shove his needy cock down your throat and continue what you had started from a moment that now felt ages ago. When you asked him, drunk on the little death he had just given you, to teach you how to pleasure him. Perhaps your subconscious could learn instead.

"I like it sloppy," he said in a strained voice, spitting on his prick as he mimicked the squeeze of your womanhood with his fist, "but for you, little one, we will go slow. I'll have you dripping first, your little cunt begging to be stuffed by me. You will do better that way," Aegon grunted at the thought as he continued. "Then, I'll have you spit on me and use your tongue to spread it before I sink into your mouth. Do not worry. I shan't shove it in all at once. I'll ease it in. I'll guide your head to find the pace I like, and you'll use your hand to make up for the lost space."

He felt a jolt of pleasure, picturing the scenario in his mind, your big doe eyes staring up at him, looking for reassurance.

"Of course, you will be unsure if you are doing it right, but not to worry, I will tell you." The stroking of his cock went faster, making the pace that you would set for him. "Good girl, I would say. You're taking me so well. I know you would just clench at my praise and try to take more of me. I know what you are, even if you do not. A good little girl that would take whatever I gave her with a smile; you just don't realize it yet." Aegon could feel his high mounting quickly, grunts and moans spewing from his chest as he moved his free hand to squeeze your throat.

"You will do that for me, won't you, little one? You'll take my cock down your fucking throat and thank your Prince when you are done?"

Your eyelids fluttered open at the lack of air, sleep still clouding your vision and mind. You could only make out a face—shoulder-length hair of white, pouting pink lips wet with spit, and flushed cheeks.

"Aegon," you whispered groggily, suddenly pulled back under the sleep waves.

He came quickly and suddenly at the sound of his name from your lips. It was such a force that his seed shot to your chin.

"Yes, it is me, little one. I am here," he answered as more spurts of his manhood fell onto your bare chest. "I am here." You did not hear his words. Already back in a deep slumber as you squirmed slightly, wiping his labor off your chin.

Aegon cursed the Gods for such an insurmountable and sudden pleasure, stroking his cock slowly as he came down, almost collapsing on top of you. He wanted to watch you clean yourself, forcing you to wipe his spend off your body with your fingers, sucking it off before swiping for more, but alas, his little dragon was sleeping and knew better than to wake you. He needed now, more than ever, for you to be awake.

Aegon tucked himself back into his trousers and left the bed, searching for a rag to wipe you but could find none, only seeing your peasant clothes draped over a chair. The maids must've forgotten them, and he grabbed the dirty outfit stained with sweat and alcohol to clean his sin of your flesh. He looked out the window once he was done, throwing the clothes in a random spot for later.

At this point in the night, he realized where his highs would cease, and his thoughts would finally reign free. His chest felt empty, a horrid feeling of shame and guilt gnawing at his gut. No one would ever love him, he realized, not in the way he sought for. His mother was ashamed and disgusted at the mere thought of him. His brother filled all the criteria his Mother wanted him to, and his youngest sister, his... wife, stuck in a marriage she nor he wanted, forced to carry his heirs. His father often forgot he even existed in favor of Rhaenyra and her bastard children.

How would he ruin your life, Aegon wondered. It was inevitable. You, too, would surely follow the same pattern. You would hate him, be repulsed by his heinous actions, and become like everyone else. He heard you stir in bed behind him but did not care; you were still fast asleep. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, sniffing and willing himself not to let them shed as he crossed his arms for comfort.

"Aegon," he heard a soft voice behind him call. "What are you doing here?" He quickly wiped the tears from his face, rushing over to kneel on the opposite side of your bed.

You saw the wet streaks, his eyes bloodshot. "Are your alright?" You asked, sitting up as you grew more concerned.

"Yes, yes, little one. I am pretty alright. I was just stopping by to see how you faired after tonights events," he lied. You didn't believe him. Your mind slows as you think of what to say.

Though you were still angry at him for what he had done, you felt your heart soften at his broken face as you opened the covers on the other side of you. "Would you lay with me," you quietly spoke, doubling down as you saw his surprised expression. "Just for a little while until I fall back to sleep." Aegon did not hesitate to kick off his boots, shedding his wine-stained shirt as he climbed in. He, too, was desperate for companionship, as he always was.

You knew this was considered improper in royal customs, and you would most defiantly get into trouble if Daemon found out, but you didn't care. You could tell you, and Aegon needed some, if just for the night.

Aegon climbed into bed wordlessly. From the moment you met him, he was always the one to lead, and you were blank on how to proceed. He was afraid to say the wrong thing and have you refute your offer. You both lay there awkwardly, staring a the black ceiling in silence. You were still trying to figure out what to do.

You recalled childhood moments when you would crawl into Aunt Lyra's bed after Ma had scored you. It was almost second nature for her. She always knew how to help you and make you feel better.

You scooted closer to Aegon's stiff form, wrapping your arms around him as he turned. You did not speak. There was nothing to say as you squeezed him closer to you. Each other's presence was enough as you slowly drifted back to sleep. Eventually, his arms wrapped around yours as something akin to water slid down your skin.

Master List of Series

Aegon is a mentally ill and emotionally stunted individual who does terrible things. Instead of mommy issues, he has "everyone in his family issues." I just wanna stroke that baby prince's cock and tell him what a good boy he is as he makes a mess of himself with his cum.

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[anxiousnerdwritings]

well imagine yandere alicent finding out that thanks to daemon sickly!younger!brother! reader's! He had a son with another woman whom the reader adores because well, he is his only son even though he was a "bastard", reader perhaps he wants to legalize his son and give the mother a place in the palace, what do you also think of the reaction of the children and the blacks?

Tw: Brief mentions of plotting the death of a child and murder in general

Alicent would feel so betrayed and enraged that another woman and child are getting what she has so longed for and what her own child with the brother deserves most of all from the Reader. She would hate Daemon to no end for doing this to her and her beloved child. She would even accuse the woman of having taken advantage of the Reader, basically projecting her own actions onto the other woman. One thing is for sure, Alicent would never accept or even feign acceptance towards this other child of her darling. She’ll loathe the child more than she does Rhaenyra’s children. Nothing could ever bring her to tolerate her darling’s bastard and they are a bastard, especially in her eyes. Even if the Reader were to marry the other woman and have the child legitimized, Alicent would never not see anything but a bitch in heat and a bastard whenever she saw them. Especially if the Reader were to actually marry said other woman. Gods forbid that ever happens, over her dead body.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Alicent would enlist Larys to have the other woman and child killed. She wouldn’t feel the least bit remorseful in doing so, even when seeing her darling’s saddened reaction to the news. Hell, even if her darling were to fall into a depression because of it, Alicent still wouldn’t regret going to the lengths that she did. She would still be there to care for and bring life back into the Reader, their own child right by her side all the while to replace the bastard one. Alicent may even come out to the Reader and tell him the truth about their child together, albeit it won’t be the exact truth. She still has to make herself look somewhat decent in this situation.

Daemon would be so incredibly proud of himself and the look on Alicent’s face would be so worthwhile when everything comes out. Honestly, Daemon’s shit eating grin would be enough to haunt Alicent for the rest of her days. And it will. I can even see Daemon and Rhaenyra encouraging the Reader to legitimize his ‘bastard’ child, knowing it’ll hurt and eat at Alicent the most. I can’t help but imagine Daemon and Rhaenyra putting much time into picking out the best woman for the Reader. Even if they aren’t expecting her being around too much longer after she’s done her job giving the Reader a child, they still want whoever the mother of their Uncle’s/Brother’s child is to be of a certain standard. Not to mention if they just had a whore do it, Alicent would use that against them and the Reader, especially concerning the child.

Rhaenyra and Daemon would pretty much be on the same page. Whether they actually like this other woman or not they’re going to accept her and the child with open arms just to piss off Alicent and to make the Reader happy. Not only would it be a reminiscent of and a slight to how Alicent was treated when she first married Viserys but also the new feelings she has this time around regarding the Reader would have Alicent all the more affected. Rhaenyra would have a big part in helping choose the woman to begin with so she would also take great pride in watching Alicent and her children’s reactions, particularly Alicent and Aegon’s reactions the most. And you can bet she’ll have her children befriend and be the best to this ‘bastard’ child of the Reader. Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena would also be taught to be overprotective of said ‘bastard’ child. They’ll support, love and encourage this child so much. And Alicent would be forced to watch it all until she hit her breaking point. Also, Rhaenyra would have every intention to legitimize the Reader’s ‘bastard’ child when she’s supposed to take over the throne. I can see her even bringing it up to Alicent and mentioning it in passing that it would be the first thing she’ll do for her ailing Uncle when she becomes Queen.

I think Aegon would take this the worst. Honestly, him and Aemond would both take it pretty bad but Aegon would be more vocal about it. He, much like his mother, would not accept this new child. It was already tasking having to accept his most recent sibling who is actually the child of his favorite Uncle. Speaking of which, Aegon would treat that child much better than he ever would this newest edition and that’s saying something. If Alicent didn’t get to them first, Aegon would also have the other woman and child killed. He already has to deal with the competition of his own siblings and the newest one to boot, he’s not just going to tolerate some random woman and a bastard child coming into the picture now.

Aemond doesn’t take well to this on multiple levels. Not only is he going off of his own jealousy of this new child getting the outward attention and love of the closest thing he’s had to a father, Aemond is also furious for how his mother is being treated in this situation and what this all means for her. He may have not been or felt the best when Alicent was pregnant with the Reader’s child. Of course he had his own resentment for said child and how his mother treated that entire pregnancy and how she continues to treat his youngest sibling, but he’d be damned if he allowed this new whore to come in with her bastard. He wouldn’t treat this new child too well, outside of the presence of his beloved Uncle/surrogate-father-figure of course.

Aemond may even take the approach of being a ‘good and thoughtful’ cousin/older sibling role for this ‘bastard’ child. Pretending to care for the child and offering to take care of it for the mother and or the Reader, only to ‘lose’ or have said child ‘stolen’ from him during the process. When in actuality he did something to it himself. Probably having fed the child to Vhagar or even dumped it in the sea, or maybe he even handed it off to some stranger. At least in the last scenario there could be a chance of survival for the child. Overall, Aemond would be ruthless in this situation. Although, Aegon and Alicent would both have the same thought and plan to get rid of the other woman and child, Aemond would be the one more than willing to carry the deed out himself with his very own hands. (Though, if desperate and spiteful enough Alicent would poison both the woman and child herself.)

Honestly, Helaena would probably be the only one to actually try and treat the new mother and child with any kind of humanity. She would be more than happy to accept this newest child if it was for her beloved Uncle/father-figure. I mean Helaena could live without the other woman around but she’ll still come off as more welcoming than anyone else on the Green’s side. She would even insist that her own children with Aegon could play with and become friends with the child. She may end up scaring away the other woman with some of the things she says but she can’t help that. Even if she might be spurting out nonsense to a point just to get the woman to leave, Helaena would still treat her better than the rest of her family. Alicent, Aegon, and Aemond would all be horrified to see her being as accepting as she is. But they won’t let it last long.

If Daeron is around during this situation and isn’t off at Oldtown, I think he would also come off as accepting of the situation but he would just be playing it up for the Reader. He wouldn’t really be accepting of it or welcoming to the fact whatsoever but he wouldn’t want to be seen as anything but cordial and gentlemanly, especially in the eyes of the man he viewed as a father. Daeron wouldn’t even bat an eye when news of the other woman and child having perished or disappeared altogether came about. But he would be there along with his siblings and mother to console and comfort the Reader while he grieved. After all, they were the only family he needed.

I can’t help but love the thought of Viserys still being alive during this and him being so overjoyed for his youngest brother to have a child of his very own. He would have immediately legitimized the child right then and there, treating them the same as Rhaenyra’s children; doting on, supporting of and very protective of them all the same. Alicent would have to watch herself when she goes on her rants, and boy does she rant, about this new woman and child. Viserys won’t tolerate any speak of it whatsoever. Her and their children would have to bite their tongues on the subject when he was around.

[writingsofwesteros]

hey!! Saw that requests were open! Can I get one for Alicent x Daemon? Like when he returns from Stepstones, the two kinda hangout and begin to like each other so instead of running around with Rhaenyra, Alicent convinces him to become mature and the two start an affair? Like this time, it's Daemon being team Green because he loves Alicent and because I feel like Alicent would be much more comforting and sweet and Daemon would appreciate a kind soul very much. He'd wanna pamper her, give her the attention and pleasure she SO deserves and she'd treat him with appreciation and softness that he clearly seems to crave. Maybe, Aemond and Daeron are Daemon's kids with her? And it explains why she loves Aemond the most? I love Daemon and Alicent! Them both finally getting to be happy and feel accepted is very special to me!

(P.s. its not exactly reader a.u so feel free to ignore.) It's just my dream idea because I really don't like the way Viserys and Rhaenyra treat Daemon who genuinely tries to defend and love them only to be pushed away whenever they feel threatened by his strong emotions. And don't get me started on how Alicent was treated by those two.

But Alicent I think would make Daemon more mature and appreciate his strong love and emotions and she'd make Daemon feel wanted. Like she's a dependent person and all Daemon wanted was to be needed by someone. Its perfect honestly and they're my crack ship too!

AN: Thank you so much for the request - I loved your thoughts on the pairing and I hope you like it x

NSFW

Alicent had not expected the rogue Prince to agree with her idea to see the tapestries. The Queen had only tried to be polite; it was all she had always tried to be. The laughter of Viserys cut her deeper than she’d ever like to admit and it was hard to miss the slight curve of Rhaenyra’s lips.

It had her heart dropping; Alicent had hoped to mend the relationship but it seemed the Princess had her mind made up. “I would like that, my Queen.” Daemon hummed. It was the first time the Prince had spoken of her title and the surprise must have moved through those big, brown eyes of hers as he only smirked.

It seemed it was a shock to the other two in their presence as Viserys’ amusement dropped. “I hope you are not too tired from your travels.” Alicent whispered; biting down on the gasp threatening to escape her as the rogue Prince gently linked his arm with hers. A notion Viserys had never done.

Daemon did not know why he had agreed; he was always impulsive but the conversation only had him softening. The Queen was the first person to ask about his well-being; even his precious Rhaenyra had not done so. A part of him wondered if Alicent was sincere but he would take it.

Alicent began to play with her fingers; the rings adorning them as she guided Daemon towards the quiet corridor. The guards and ladies of the court alike all in the courtyard for the celebration. “I am well now.” Daemon finally answered as the Queen’s eyes moved over the wall in front of them.

A soft smile tugged on Alicent’s lips but soon she was ducking her head. “I heard that you had given my brother two children.” Daemon couldn’t stop himself. He shivered at the mere thought of Alicent beneath his seemingly rotting away brother. For a moment, he wondered why he cared. 

“Yes, they are precious..” Alicent whispered. It was the words she was supposed to say but somewhere deep inside she knew they were wrong. She must be wrong. “You are very young to have such a number of children.” Daeon prodded at the reality as the two of them finally came to a stop. 

“It is my duty.” Alicent hummed the words she was supposed to say once again and this time the rogue Prince stepped closer. His body brushed against hers only slightly but it was enough to have her heart skipping. “I see I was looking in all the wrong places before.” Daemon whispered into her ear. 

“I do not understand.” Alicent hummed. Her body nearly shivered at his closeness as her fingers brushed over each other; digging into her soft skin. A moment later; Daemon’s hands gently collected her own. “You smell so good.” He purred. Gods, was she always this soft and beautiful? Had he truly been so blind?

“Daemon…what are you doing?” Alicent softly asked; slowly moving from him but the rogue Prince followed. He was near obsessed as his intense emotions drove his actions. “It seems I may have made a mistake.” It was the only answer the Queen was given before she was gently pushed into the royal library.

His lips were soon on Alicent before both of them could figure anything else out. Daemon watched in amusement as her wide eyes stared up at him in shock. His hands moved down her sides. ”Daemon..” She softly gasped out as he gently pushed the Queen against the wall behind her. 

He only hummed as her delicate hands brushed onto his chest; pushing him away because that was the right thing to do. Gods, she had never felt this before. Her body seemed to hum for more. “Shh, you deserve this.” Daemon hummed, “Let me give you this.” He continued to whisper as he slowly moved to his knees.

“Wh—what are you doing?” Alicent whimpered; her hands moving to the desk to keep herself steady. Daemon only chuckled; enjoying the idea of ruining the pretty Queen just as she deserved. Slowly, his hands moved up her inner thighs. He pushed that stunning gown to her waist before disappearing under it.

“Daemon..” She whispered as he pressed soft, open mouthed kisses up her thigh until he got to her pussy. Her wetness was beginning to make itself known and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Good girl..” Daemon purred and watched the Queen shake at such praises. Oh, she liked that then.

His tongue slowly moved her weeping pussy, giving her a taste. “Oh —oh gods..” Alicent was loud and responsive; damn near adorable as he harshly began to suck on her clit now. He wanted to hear more. His own cock was hardening and just begging to be touched but for now; it was all for her.

Her body arched from the desk as all thoughts of how wrong it was disappeared from her mind. His tongue slowly moved inside her. This time; nothing hurt. Her toes were nearly curling in pleasure as she gasped out. Daemon’s hands moved to her waist and kept her firm against the desk.

He began to kitten lick her clit; the movements caused the Queen to jolt in pleasure. An affair of intense passion and growing love started here; with far reaching consequences for all.

~

“He is beautiful.” A lady in waiting whispered as the Queen cuddled her second son to her chest. “He is.” Alicent gently stroked his hair with warmth that had never existed before. Her whole heart was for him, she realised as she brought Aemond into an embrace she never wanted to part from.

Alicent brushed her hand over her collar bone; her fingers finding the bright rubies adorning it. A gift from her lover. The thought alone brought a soft blush to her face. “Brother, come meet your new nephew.” Viserys’ voice was heard and those big eyes of hers flashed open. Alicent kept Aemond close as she finally turned around.

Their eyes caught each other but the rogue Prince was able to mask his face perfectly. “He is named Aemond.” Viserys announced; a wide smile on his face as Daemon locked eyes with the Queen. His own eyes widened for a moment before he stepped closer. “I thought after you.” Alicent whispered oh so innocently and nobody knew any better.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

“The magic of his voice”- Part 2

🔥Pairing:  Aemond x Fem. Reader (Non. Targ / second person POV) 

🔥Themes: Soft | Fluff | Smut

🔥Warnings: Kissing | Mild dirty talk | Voice Kink | Dom Sub aspects | Praise | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

🔥Word count:1.8k words

🔥Rating:🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+

Summary: You and Aemond take the first step into trying something new in the bedroom.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

Part 1

Aemond watched, his countenance softening as you made yourself comfortable on his lap.

"Do not fret, ñuha jorrāelagon," he began, "You will enjoy this as much as I."

You folded your hands upon your lap and looked up at him with eager eyes.

"You're so willing to please already. Good girl." The prince smirked, the violet of his right eye gleaming in the light of the fire. Aemond was content to watch, and think. How best to start this night? He thought and thought before finally settling on something simple for you both. "My hair. Loosen it."

The request was simple enough, and you timidly reached around him to undo the thin leather strap that kept his hair out of the way. Aemond trembled at your closeness, the warmth that seemed to radiate off your body, and the sweet scent of your skin. He brushed his nose over your hair, slowly, tenderly, his hands coming to rest on your waist as if to hold you steady. They quivered when your fingers combed through slippery, thick silver-gold locks, when the heat of your breath fanned against the shell of his ear. Aemond fought for composure, and patience won out, for now. He kept still while you finished your little task, quietly relishing how you felt against him.     

His hair finally loosened, and the thin strap that held it all together was now in your hand. Aemond took it off of you and consigned it to the side. He then swallowed and asked you to do something he had never done before. "My eye-patch," he said, suddenly bashful. "Remove it as well."

Well. This truly was a turn of events. Aemond had never removed his eyepatch in front of anyone, not even you. He even wore it while asleep. Or perhaps he took it off while you were asleep and donned it before you opened your eyes, but you never saw him without it.

"Why now, my love?" you asked, ravenously curious. "Why after all this time?"

Aemond grew pensive for a moment before replying. "Many a time I have asked you to put your complete trust in me. It is time I did the same. The patch, ñuha jorrāelagon," he coughed and looked away. "Remove it."

Deep inside, he was more than a little wroth, but not with you. Aemond loathed the patch, for it was a reminder of a dark and painful time, a time that showed his sire only ever truly cared about Rhaenyra and her brood, and not his other children. More than anything, Aemond wished he had never had it. He wished his kin could have just accepted that Vhagar chose him, and then he sighed. Events unfolded as the Gods had willed them; he could not change them no matter what he did.

You took great care with the patch, carefully slipping it off. Your gaze rested on the familiar scar that ran from brow to cheekbone, the now visible deep blue stone that seemed to gleam with a life all of its own. You have heard, of course, how Aemond claimed Vhagar, of the fight that followed, and of the terrible price that had to be paid in exchange for claiming the last living reminder of the Conqueror and his sisters. Seeing it was wholly different from hearing about it in tales, and you kept pity out of your eyes. Aemond never cared for the pity of others, and it always vexed him.

"Does it hurt?" You asked hesitantly, running a finger carefully over that jagged line.

Aemond closed his eyes as warmth washed over him. Just your touch alone was enough to soothe him. "Not anymore."

He took the eye patch off your hands and placed it on the side as well. The weight of the mattress shifted as he moved to make himself more comfortable. Aemond turned to you and took you in, with your curious eyes and your willingness to please. How it warmed his very blood to see you like this, ready to submit to him.

"Your shift," he said, greedily eyeing the silky wisps you wore. "’Tis too much. Unburden yourself."

The force and steel in his voice unlocked something inside you, something deep and dark, something that made a jolt shoot up your spine. It heated you to your core, and you complied, fumbling with the laces in the process, your fingers feeling like they had all turned into thumbs. You heard no reproach, no sound of impatience, but you felt it—his vivid purple eye watching you, following your every move, taking in everything you were doing. You looked at him after tugging your shift over your head, your pulse quickening when lust and need burned in his eye.

And Aemond didn’t want to go too far, not on your first night trying something so wholly new to the both of you. Step by step, he thought. There would be many more nights like this, and many more opportunities to explore even further.

"Stay still," Aemond all but purred, his words as sweet as honey. "Stay perfectly still."

First, he took your nightgown and threw it to the floor without ceremony. Then he ran his hands all over your body, oh so slowly, over your thighs, your belly, all over your neck and hair, down your arms, his fingers lacing around yours when he reached your hands. Aemond brought both your hands to his mouth, his lips moving over each finger in soft, airy little kisses that left you flushed and more than a little breathless.

"You taste sweet, ñuha jorrāelagon," he breathed, letting go of your hands so he could move his arms around your waist. "Now, are you ready for more?"

You nodded, willingly yielding to the growing demands of your body. Aemond dipped his head, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat over and over again. Lightheaded and dizzy, you threw your arms around his shoulders, gasping when they tightened their hold. His teeth grazed over your skin, leaving patches of lavender to bloom in their wake. His tongue laved, leaving a damp trail, while a hand hardened and callused by years of sword use moved up to cup your breast. Aemond palmed it softly, enjoying the warmth of it against his palm, how your nipple stiffened by his touch. And the sounds you made—all those little whimpers and sighs—were like music to his ears. He laid you back in bed, his lips and tongue laving and tasting in turn, his hands exploring every possible inch of your body, his heart pounding harder than ever, his cock hardening and straining against his breeches.

Your fingers nearly ripped into the sheets when he moved his hand to your sex, already slick and wet. Aemond slid a finger in, then another, moving them in and out, growing drunk on your needy moans. He felt you shudder and heard you sob his name. Aemond propped himself up on his elbow, and when you shuddered again, he pulled out and moved over you, his thighs pushing yours apart. "Lie back, dārilaros," he said and sat up, the soft sound of clasps unfastening filling you in on what was about to happen next. "And let me take care of you."

Again you obeyed, unable to deny him. Your gaze drifted over Aemond’s body while he undressed, the muscles sculpted by many moons of sparring and fighting. A warrior’s body, one that held great skill and strength, strength he had never use against you, not to hurt. Your cheeks warmed when Aemond caught you looking, and he smirked.

"Enjoying the view, dārilaros?"

You grinned even as your cheeks burned. "Yes, my love. Very much so."

Aemond chuckled—a light, breathy chuckle—before moving over you once more. "Are you ready?"

He said, brushing stray locks of hair out of your eyes.

You hummed in anticipation, your arms circling his shoulders and your legs moving over to rest against his hips. Aemond leaned in and brushed his lips over yours, once, twice, before capturing your mouth with a kiss that shook you to your very core. Aemond kissed with passion and fire, rendering your bones to water. He propped himself on his elbow, his free hand moving to your hip. He moaned, oh, how he moaned, when he entered your velvety core. Aemond stopped, his body trembling, his need for you growing all the stronger. He took a moment to savour how hot and wet and ready you were. And then, he moved, his lips crashing into yours.

A tangle of limbs was what it was: two bodies and two souls cleaving into each other, hungrily and desperately, as if this night was going to be the last. All sense of restraint had crumbled to dust as Aemond rode you, his hips bruising the insides of your thighs. Your grip tightened, your fingers scouring his flesh, your legs scrabbling for purchase against his hips as he pushed in deeper and harder, his fingers digging into your hip. And the things he said, how wonderful you tasted, how soft your skin felt, how sweetly it smelled. And there were other things he said, darker and more sinful, things he reserved for your ears alone.

"I cannot get enough of you, dārilaros," he groaned when your nails raked over his skin. "The things you do to me, it makes me so weak."

That only encouraged you to arch toward him. "More," you plead. "More."

Aemond grinned. "The feeling of you is the only thing I can think about for days after we make love," he admitted, his rhythm growing erratic as he neared the edge. "All I have to do is close my eyes, and the sight of that beautiful body of yours writhing beneath me is enough to make me forget everything else."

It was bliss that overcame you, bliss that blinded you to all else. You couldn’t think, could barely breathe, as pleasure of the most sinful and acute surged like a wave that kept on rising. Aemond’s name blew past your lips in a whisper as he drove mercilessly into you, taking you higher and higher.

Bliss slowly gave way to heat as the two of you succumbed to wildness. Aemond forced himself to open his eye, to see you, to see the myriad of expressions on your face, how your mouth parted when crying out his name. Soon, it came so soon: unimaginable ecstasy as he plunged one last time, his release crashing over him barely a moment after yours, your walls contracting and pulling him in even deeper as he spilled his seed, his chest heaving against yours.

You blinked your eyes as consciousness trickled in slowly. You heard heavy breathing and looked up at Aemond. Beads of sweat gleamed over his brow, his chest trembling even as he still leaned over you. When he felt you stir, Aemond opened his eye and looked down at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. He dipped his head and kissed you again, softly and sweetly this time, before moving to his side and sighing contentedly when you curled into him.

"That was wonderful, my love," you murmured, shifting your gaze to him.

"There will be more," Aemond promised, taking your hand into his. "So much more. This was just the beginning."

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese | @nupppuff​  | @arcswonderland​

[targaryen-vigilante-wizard-jedi]

WITH EYES LIKE MINE

House of the Dragon (Female)Targaryen reader insert

Chapter Warnings -mentions of difficulty eating, reader-character's sleeping disorder, reader-character's depression, mentions of infertility, implied creepy old noble men (nothing is explicitly said as I don't feel comfortable writing about that but this is HOTD and she is a Targaryen). Longish chapter

Chapter 8 - Aemond's Gift

120 AC

Y/N had been forced from her bed early that morning as the servants rushed themselves in to prepare her for young prince Aemond's eleventh nameday banquet.

With what he had had to endure, Alicent had decided that Aemond deserved a truly monumental celebration.

Once she was dressed, Y/N quietly thanked and dismissed the servants before she turned to her table, which held a little royal blue box on top of it. Inside the box was her gift to Aemond. She only hoped he would cherish it as she had. A striking silk purple ribbon was hand-tied neatly around the box; it seemed some of Y/N's lessons with the haggard old septa had proved useful.

Royal blue had always been what she deemed 'Aemond's colour', and she was rather fond of shades of purple herself

Or perhaps it had been ingrained into her to dress in purple by the several men who had whispered to her father and mother on how it 'brought out the purple of her eyes' and 'complimented her ever-growing beauty'.

A knock was placed upon her door before it was opened. She hurried to hide the gift, fearing it was her brother who had entered, but to her joint relief and dismay, it was her Queen mother.

"Oh, my love" Alicent gasped, her eyes gleaming at Y/N's appearance - the servants, as instructed by Alicent, dressed her in a royal blue dress with intricate silver embroidered flowers adorning the skirts. The ends of her hair were curled and voluminous, trailing down her back. Specially made silver butterflies adorned either side of her head, holding half of her hair up.

"You look wonderful." She gave a smile to Y/N as she approached her. Y/N turned her head from her mother to hide her fully-formed frown.

She was unsure of how to respond. Just two mornings prior, Alicent had lost her temper and dug her fingers into her cheeks and jaw for defying and embarrassing the septa.

Y/N had known it would only be a matter of time before her mother would reveal her true colours once again. For the past nine years, her mother had shown nothing but disdain and hatred towards her.

Why would her daughter nearly dying change anything?

"Thank you," the young girl murmured softly, as she kept her eyes focused on the box in front of her, her delicate fingers traced the ribbon.

"The septa has taught you well,your ribbonwork is rather lovely." Alicent stood behind her, her eyes flitting between her daughter and the small gift box. Her attempt to compliment her was in vain. No compliment of hers could interrupt the tension her harsh hands had forced between them.

Her eyes caught sight of the two circular bruises on her daughter's cheek, marks left behind by her frenzied fingertips.

Before any more conversation could take place, the door opened once again, and im hobbled the King, clutching his cane tightly.

His breaths were heavy, heavier than they had been days prior. Y/N knew his health was deteriorating rapidly.

King Viserys stood still, taking in Y/N's appearance before he let a gentle yet pained smile overtake his face.

"You look so grown, my girl," the king sputtered in an emotional croak. Tears welled in his eyes from the sight. She resembled Rhaenyra so much in that moment, if only it truly were her.

Y/N may have been young, but she was no fool. She knew that her father was thinking about Rhaenyra. While Viserys had always been a fairly good father, he had never shown nearly as much love or emotion towards her (or any of his other children) than he did Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra would always be the apple of his eye, just as Aemond was her mother's.

Y/N forced herself to smile before giving her father a tight nod. "Thank you...father."

________

The feast was to begin shortly, and all of those who were attending waited patiently in the hall for the royal family to arrive.

Viserys and Alicent had hoped that they'd enter the feast as a family, but Aegon had destroyed any chance of that happening as he had arrived earlier than anyone else and was already intoxicated by the time his father and mother arrived.

"Dear Gods," Viserys grumbled, closing his eyes in discontent at his son's unabashed wooing of servants and guests alike.

Alicent kept her eyes fiercely trained on her eldest. She would berate him of his shameful behaviours later but tonight was to be about Aemond who was next to arrive.

The young prince had been late to arrive as he had been preoccupied soaring the skies with Vhagar since late afternoon.

His eye scanned the crowds who had gathered for him and applauded his arrival, but he could not find the only person he had wished to see that evening.

He took notice of Helaena, who had helped their Grandsire and the servants prepare the feast, her eyes lit up upon seeing his form, and she ran to him, embroidery in hand.

She wore a pale, long-sleeved yellow gown that had been taken in at the waist to accentuate her developing figure.

"I do hope you like my gift, I made it myself to celebrate your nameday, it is a truly splendid occasion for you, Aemond." Helaena's smile was bright as she gave the embroidery to Aemond whose lips turned upwards at the sight of the sword.

"Thank you, Helaena. I shall hang it in my chambers."

Aemond took his seat beside his mother at the longest table within the room. On his other side sat Helaena meanwhile his father sat beside his mother and Aegon begrudgingly sat beside him.

Alicent chewed her lip nervously. She knew she should have escorted Y/N herself, but she did not want to hurt their fractured relationship any further than she already had, and Viserys hadn't the energy to chase his young daughter from her chambers.

Before everyone had taken their seats, the doors opened once again. The awaited princess entered, fingernails dug into her clasped hands, with ser Criston Cole trailing behind her. She tried to ignore the gasps and murmurs and whispers as she tread into the room.

As soon as the doors opened and she entered, Aemond had first smiled at her appearance. She was wearing blue; 'his colour' as she had so often described it many times before. Silver crystals dangled from her ears and silver butterflies decorated her flowing, perfect hair, and he did not think he had ever seen her look as pretty as she did in that moment.

However, her sullen expression and bruised cheek quickly caused his smile to change to a perturbed frown.

Otto did not so much as glance at her, but if he had he would have surely smiled at the bruising on her cheek. The incident hadn't changed his cold and callous attitude towards her but at least he was honest and stood by his actions, which is more than she could say for her mother who had adopted the act of the concerned, grieving mother.

King Viserys nodded his head in her direction with a content smile on his face, pleased with her appearance.

Queen Alicent gave a tight and uncomfortable smile -her eyes were trained on the bruises even from such a distance- but she looked like a princess should, no longer unruly and messy like she had been prior to the incident.

Helaena eagerly clapped her hands together, excitedly as she took in her sister's dress - it wasn't a light-coloured dress like she would normally have worn, but it made her look regal and mature.

In an attempt to alleviate her uncomfortableness caused by the intent eyes of the seated crowds and her family she kept her gaze to the ground.

As soon as Aegon had taken notice of her appearance, he had halted his suave attempts at wooing the serving girl before him. He sat still and silent in his seat, his lips slightly parted. He was unused to his youngest sister, looking so grown. It made him feel uncomfortable and wary of his mother's intentions of dressing her so. She was a girl of nine years.

She normally dirtied her outfits with picking flowers or dancing outside, but every last detail was impeccable and untouched from her hair to her heeled feet. His lavender eyes then wandered to the crowds, to which he saw many predatory gazes ogling his child sister.

Whispers and murmurs reached his ears, some too crude to be used to describe a girl of nine years and lascivious even for a predatory creature such as himself.

It seemed that Y/N had taken notice of them, too, as her steps wavered slightly. She hated the noble men and their disgusting words.

Aegon's grip on his cup tightened before he stood to his feet, garnering the attention of his family and the crowds.

Without so much as a glance to the serving girl -who had preoccupied his attention prior-, his mother, father, or anyone, he walked down the steps and ambled over to Y/N, doing his best to stop himself falling.

The little girl finally looked up, her sullen expression remained as Aegon approached her. She thought he might have decided to take his leave, but instead, he offered his hand out to her, his eyes focused only on hers, ignoring everyone else.

Y/N looked him in the eyes and gave her eldest brother a gracious yet short nod, grateful that he had diverted everyone's attention from her even at the cost of their mother and father's disappointment.

Aemond felt a numbness surge through his body as he watched Y/N take Aegon's hand before he led her gently up the stairs towards the table.

Once they approached their seats they seated themselves, Y/N being more conscious of noise meanwhile Aegon more or less threw his chair from the table to seat himself, uncaring of his mother, father or Grandsire's scornful gazes.

The feast then began, and everyone started to eat their way through their meals, all except Y/N, whose eyes studied her small, cut hands to distract herself from the smells of the food and the cringe-worthy sounds of everyone eating.

"Y/N," Aegon's voice pulled her from her thoughts and she looked to him.

With his knife and fork in hand, he gestured towards her plate. "Eat."

As much as her brother drank, he was not oblivious to his surroundings, that was clear.

Y/N released a staggered breath before she shook her head and refuted his request vehemently. "If I eat, I'll fall asleep. The hunger keeps me awake longer."

Aegon frowned at her words, but he did not relent. "I was not asking," he paused, his face stern yet concerned. "Eat."

Y/N sighed and shifted in her seat, but she did as he said, picking up a spoonful of peas and placing them within her mouth. She struggled to swallow them without gagging, which did not go unnoticed by the older boy, but he was just relieved she had eaten.

His eyes repeatedly looked to her expectantly throughout the feast, and each time, she would place a fork full of chicken or spoonful of peas to her mouth in hopes of appeasing her brother and escaping to her chambers quicker.

As Aemond's eye glanced towards the other end of the table, he realised he was feeling the same emotions he had felt whenever seeing his brother riding Sunfyre; jealousy and rage.

Aegon had always played the role of elder brother effortlessly when it came to Y/N. He and Helaena were taunted or blatantly ignored most of the time. Meanwhile, Aegon had always ensured he had time for Y/N and vice versa.

Aemond himself did not understand their connection, Aegon had always been horrible, but Y/N had always tried to see the good in him; their pretty older brother.

More than anything, he wanted to disrupt their interactions and whisk her away from his words of poison.

Eventually, Y/N tired of Aegon's expectant stares and stood before speaking quietly, "may I be excused?" Alicent figured she needed to use the chamber pot and so she nodded.

"Of course, my darling."

Aegon wasn't as trusting as his mother, he knew that she only wished to leave the feast as much as he did.

Ser Criston, without being instructed to, approached and gently took the girl's hand and led her down the stairs.

Most of the crowds were too immersed in conversing, or their hands were dug far too deep into their meals to take notice of the Princess leaving.

Ser Criston Cole knew she only wanted to escape from such an environment, and he did, too. Feasts were not an enjoyable occasion for the guard. They served as a reminder of the poison that was Rhaenyra and Laenor's wedding banquet all those years ago.

He did not like the lingering emptiness he felt as a result of that feast. Even his hatred could not rid him of it.

Y/N had dropped ser Criston's hand and exited the feast with a quickness to be admired.

She heaved a deep sigh as the doors closed behind her.

"I must retrieve my brother's gift, I did not want to gift it to him in front of everyone."

"Lead the way, Princess." Ser Criston had no understanding as to why he had grown so tolerant and accepting of accompanying and guarding the princess who had once embodied the word nuisance. Perhaps it was their shared experience of having their joy and happiness stolen from them at the hands of others or perhaps it was their experiences of pain- Ser Criston's was physical while Y/N's was a balance of both physical and emotional, leading them both to become shells of their former selves.

He supposed he should be grateful, he was a man grown when Rhaenyra broke his heart, Y/N was nine when she had been attacked and on the brink of death, her dragon had escaped and she was officially declared to be barren by a maester.

His eyes wandered to her small body that moved swiftly through the long corridors, and somehow, he knew that the worst was yet to come for a girl of Y/N's beauty and title.

He swallowed uncomfortably at his thoughts. But he would not allow himself to become concerned or care for the girl or her wellbeing, yet.

Y/N opened the doors to her chambers and grabbed the small box hastily before exiting. She turned to look at Ser Criston who looked to be nauseous at that moment.

"You look unwell, should I call for a maester?"

Ser Criston could have cursed, he did feel unwell, but he had been doing his best to hide it.

"I should be fine, Princess. I'll take you back to the feast."

"Come walk with me through the gardens. The fresh air and smell of flowers will help." She ignored his words, and before he could protest or agree, she began to walk away from him presumably in the direction of the garden.

It took a number of minutes and convincing words to the other guards until they both found themselves in the gardens. Ser Criston seated himself while Y/N wandered over to the rows of white and red roses and felt their petals with her fingertips.

"How does it feel to wield a sword?" Y/N's voice along with her words came unexpected to the guard but after a few moments he answered.

"Heavy."

Y/N rolled her eyes, dissatisfied by his answer. She did not repeat herself and only watched him expectantly.

"It is both liberating and demanding, but with time comes skill." He answered as honestly as he could to which Y/N nodded.

"And do you think a girl could wield a sword?" Her question was not meant to be amusing, but the guard snorted and gave a disapproving chuckle.

"It would take a very resilient and hardened woman to wield a sword. There are not too many of those these days."

"Visenya Targaryen was a fierce and skilled warrior, and she was a woman." Y/N offered as a rebuttal, in efforts to open his mind to the idea.

"Why do you show such interest in wielding a weapon? A princess should not be concerned with such matters." Ser Criston huffed, but he noticed that Y/N's suggestion had worked, and his nausea was dissipating. Perhaps he had eaten too quickly.

"If I were trained in the art of the sword, my brother would not have lost his eye, and I would not have nearly died at the hands of the twin-bitches." Y/N spat viciously, but the knight had chuckled aloud at her choice of words. He wondered if she had any idea of what it meant or how it would normally have been used in a sentence.

"Y/N?"

The silver haired girl spun to see Aemond standing a few feet away. She could only wonder how long he had been there and how much he had heard.

Aemond knew that the gardens were a place of comfort for Y/N, especially the area which kept the roses, which is why it had been the second place he searched when she had not returned, the first being her unguarded, empty chambers.

"Aemond." She greeted allowing herself to smile at him. Her feet were light as she approached him.

"What are you doing out here?" He had squinted his eye and looked between his sister and the guard with suspicion.

"Prince Aemond, forgive me. I was feeling unwell, so the young princess directed me to the gardens to get some air." Ser Criston explained, his voice calm and his face expressing no concern regarding Aemond's presence.

Aemond had no time to answer as Y/N held out a small box to him. "I did not want everyone's prying eyes upon us. I would have rather waited until after the feast, but since you are here -" She gestured to the box with the ghost of a smile upon her face.

Aemond's eye travelled her face, and her eyes shone even in the shadow of night. He took the box from her, his face lacking expression.

She found herself growing nervous but refrained from showing it. Even ser Criston had risen from his seated position to get a better view of the gift.

He opened the small box gently and found inside a singular dark blue rose. He smiled down at the gift, happy that Y/N had not completely changed.

Unable to contain her glee, she bounced on the heels of her feet and let a small smile take over her face. "I hand painted it -in my book blue roses represent rarity, uniqueness along with dreams, pride and mystery - there has never been and never will be a Targaryen braver, smarter or more unique than you Aemond," Y/N grasped his arms lightly and began to let the words flee from her mouth.

"You had a dream of claiming a dragon, and you did not only that, but you claimed and rode the biggest and oldest dragon in all of Westeros at the age of ten." Even though it had been meant as a compliment, Y/N could not stop the envy that she felt, Aemond had already ridden Vhagar more times than Y/N had been allowed to ride Veranys. She had only ever ridden the dragon seven times, with her last ride having been the longest.

Aemond felt his chest tightening at her words. He did not want to appear weak and so withheld any emotions that would encourage tears. He nodded, and despite the pain it caused in his cheek and socket, he smiled for her. "I love it, thank you, sister."

Y/N shook her head before speaking, "That isn't all," Once again, she nodded her head towards the box, and underneath the flower lay a small black silk pouch which at first blended with the layering inside the box. Aemond's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what it could possibly be.

He opened the pouch and had to force himself to squint at the glinting object to identify it.

"I've always said blue was your colour." Y/N's voice had lowered multiple octaves as she awaited his response anxiously, once again.

Aemond dug out the item from the small pouch and found a sapphire gemstone laying in his hand. He was about to ask where she had obtained it from.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're wondering...or maybe I did." She whispered the last words rapidly to which Aemond shook his head, fond of her antics.

Her eyes were focused on the glimmering stone, as though its shine had captivated her.

"I've cherished it, more than any tiara, necklace, ring - I kept it hidden within my table, it's the most beautiful gem I've ever seen so it made sense to give it to you, with you being 'the prettiest child'" She did her best to speak in their mother's voice as she called him the prettiest but it was not entirely a joke. Aemond had always possessed a certain regalness and etherealness to his appearance that Y/N thought no other to have, perhaps it was his thirst for knowledge and his eloquent ways of speaking that had helped solidify Aemond's position as the most beautiful and graceful of Viserys' children -at least to Y/N and her mother-.

Ser Criston, for the first time in too long, felt his lips twitch into a smile as he watched the scene before him. For as heartless as he was, even he could not deny the sweetness of the exchange. In that moment, Y/N truly embodied her name of 'The Sweetling Princess' bestowed upon her by the nobles and smallfolk, alike. Perhaps the incident had not hardened her heart quite as much as he had thought it had, and to his surprise, he felt glad for such a possibility.

"I shall cherish it as you have done," he paused as his eye found her two brilliant lilac-pink ones. "It will be my greatest treasure." Aemond then grasped Y/N tightly and pulled her into a hug, which she returned as her arms linked around his neck.

[A nice chapter -I think- for a change. Hopefully no-one was too ooc here, that's my pet hate when it comes to stories.

While everyone seems pleasant and kind, I do intend to keep their personalities and behaviours they adopt as they get older.

The next chapter might have the characters aged up a little, but not significantly so.

I don't want to miss out on any chance of establishing concrete relationship plots between Y/N and her family.

Hope you enjoyed this one, I have tried to proofread this as best as I can but autocorrect is a pain in the neck

Thanks for reading my story so far!]

[witheredoffherwitch]

The Strongs are not the good guys in Alys' story! They made her their servant and wet nurse for their babies when she herself was unmarried. What does that mean anon? It means in the best interpretation they were cruel and in the worst they must have abused her themselves!

Read critically what u consume.

The only sin Aemond did against the Strongs as far as we know and can be sure was murdering the young boys. That was wrong.

But in Alys scenario, aemond has done less/no canonical abuse than her own family.

Hi nonnie, thanks for the ask.

Careful now, you are making too much sense! Your theory would be the most obvious take-away for anyone familiar with the world of asoiaf. Bastards are not treated well unless you were fortunate enough to be sired by Stark male member (because Starks usually do not subject kids through brutal ostracization because of some mediaeval honor-code: Jon and Theon are good examples of that!) -- BUT other than that, you were pretty much fucked! Rhaenyra's bastards fared well because 1) the mother held a more privileged position (due to which her kids were ensured certain protection), and 2) admitting their bastardry would have tried Rhaenyra, Harwin and Laenor for treason.

Secondly, I think it is fair to conclude that House Strong wasn't some tight-knit 'loving' family. Sure, we've seen brothers gossiping during Rhaenyra and Laenor's wedding but apart from that, the house functions like any other Westerosi house. Lyonel Strong doesn't confront the truth about his grandsons until Harwin makes a fool out of himself in the courtyard.. and by then, the severity of the said matter was long-overdue and extremely consequential to the point of non-avoidance. The younger brother didn't even flinch before killing off his dear father and brother for some political gain. If Larys 'the Clubfoot' Strong did not feel any kinship with his family, then one can assume that reception of a known bastard is going to be less than ideal.

Thirdly, we still don't know how are they going to portray Aemond during his Riverrun arc. I keep saying it because Aemond (along with Alicent and Rhaenyra) is altered from his canon version. In the show, Aemond never insults Rhaenyra and only ever maintains a cold indifference towards her. He isn't shown to be some raging misogynist. He only insults the Strong bastards after Luke displays an absurd lack of self-awareness during that dinner scene. And in the Storm's End segment, he doesn't chase after Luke due to some back-handed comment from Maris... but rather, that conflict is shown as an extension to the last dinner scene. BUT the most telling of all is how Luke was killed off in a supposed accident - meaning that Aemond never intended to kill him in the first place. Interestingly enough, there was a deleted scene where we see Aemond giving the camera an evil look, but that part got cut in post-production for some reason. Instead, they chose to end the scene with his distressed expression.

Now, do I believe Aemond will experience some radical arc change? NO! But the way the future events unfold will be certainly DIFFERENT! That's why I am both skeptical and mildly optimistic about how the show might portray their relationship. Aemond and Alys are both heavily misunderstood characters - and this alone opens a massive potential for this couple than some other speculated ships. That being said, this ongoing hate for Alysmond is very forced - and it says a lot when the majority fandom has just discarded her as someone put their beloved prince 'under a spell' or is a homewrecker for pulling Aemond from their own crackship.

[asoiafsworld]

you drew stars around my scars (but now i'm bleeding)

pairing; aegon targaryen x fem!oc (alyssa velaryon)

summary; alyssa velaryon comes as a miracle to rhaenyra targaryen, a trueborn daughter with silver hair and dark skin that mirrors her father, ser laenor velaryon. she is dutiful, loved, respected, kind and the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms. and she falls in love with her uncle, prince aegon targaryen, a fearsome knight that is just as respected and loved as the woman he loves. they are bound by something greater that only they can feel, meant to burn and crash together. it is only unfortunate that every person around them does not want them to be together.

warnings; none just a lot of fluff!!

author's note; i haven't posted anything in a long time but pls take this is a consolation gift <33 i never planned to write for argon but hes basically very oc here bc aegon is a good boy to me! hope u enjoy it <3

masterlist

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

RHAENYRA

 “YOU CUNT!”, she hears herself scream faintly, a sound that is close and far, loud and faint at the same time. Her body is burning with pain and agony, a frown is visible on her face and she breathes through her nose and exhales through her mouth. She swallows the lump in her throat that feels as thick as the head of the baby that she’s trying to push out. Come out, you little gremlin. I’ll give you a piece of my mind, she thinks. 

Rhaenyra was incredibly nervous and terrified of giving birth due to the memories of her mother and the loss that is still carved into her heart. She wishes for her mother to be at her side, wants her dear mother to hold her hand and tell her it will be alright. But she’s not here, she will never meet any of her grandchildren and it pains the young princess so much to think about it.

The midwives surrounding her will have to do for now and they are doing a good job. She reminds herself to thank them and apologize when this is over because of the curses she has thrown at them and is sure that she won’t think of the midwife between her legs as a cunt when the babe is finally out.

She continues to push and breathe, just like she was told and the pain is awful, worse than anything she has ever felt before. The child bed is our battlefield, her mother had once said. How wise Queen Aemma had been… and how terribly she died.

Rhaenyra almost doesn’t recognize how the pressure from between her legs is gone and only opens her eyes when she hears a shrill scream. There is still pain that lingers but without a babe trying to fight it’s way outside, some of the pain subsides immediately and the princess is grateful for it. She feels tears roll down her cheeks for the second time that day, this time of relief and happiness, opposed to the tears of agony and pain she had cried earlier. Her little bundle of joy is wrapped in a cloth and pressed into her arms by a smiling nurse who confirms that the baby is healthy and a girl. She looks down at her little one, her first child, her girl, her heir to the throne. There is a small tuft of white-blonde hair on her head and her skin is dark, a little lighter than Laenor but certainly darker than Rhaenyra's and it makes the Crown Princess want to scream and laugh from relief. Her daughter, her firstborn child is without a trace of doubt a child of Targaryen and Velaryon blood, something that Rhaenyra wasn’t sure would happen.

Rhaenyra did consumate her marriage with her husband, Ser Laenor Velaryon. They had however only lain twice with one another, both occurrences a few weeks after their joyless wedding. After that, her interest of Ser Harwin Strong had grown, who is now her sworn knight and her husband had equally found companionship in a different man’s arms. The first time she had lain with Harwin was only a few days after the last time she had done her duty with her husband, which is why it was difficult for Rhaenyra to know who’s child she would give birth to. She was more expecting for a pale skinned and dark haired babe to be placed in her arms but she certainly does not mind being surprised like this… no one would question the legitimacy of this babe, a spitting image of Laenor.

The princess holds the little creature close to her, who hasn’t stopped crying but has gotten quieter in voicing her discomfort. She is certain that in the throes of her pain, it had felt like the babe was much bigger than what she’s holding in her arms, small even for a babe but still healthy. She vaguely registers that the midwives are telling her guards to call for her husband and father as she only has eyes for her little one.

You will understand how much I love you when you have your own children, her mother had once said to her. The younger version of her had only scoffed at that but now she understands what her beloved late mother was trying to tell her. It only takes one look at her daughter to know and realize that she would lay down her life for the little babe, so enamored with how she curiously stretches her neck and flails her arms about. Rhaenyra knows that she is still crying but she doesn't care, only cares for her daughter, her flesh and blood, her little dragon. She doesn’t dare to look away from her for even a second and places a long, sweet kiss on her forehead. She brushes over her head with one hand and wants to cry even more at how perfect her little one is.

“I was going to have a stern word with you about the pain you have caused me… But it seems that I am much too in love with you to even scold you. My little one, my little dragon. I know that you are born for the realm, that many men will want to guide you at a young age and teach you everything you need to know about ruling a kingdom… but I could never let you part from my side. How could I when you are so sweet and perfect and fit right into my arms? My sweet little dragon.”

Rhaenyra leans down and gives a soft kiss to the babe’s forehead who stirs at the touch but otherwise remains calm and quiet. She spends a few moments like this, simply staring at the beautiful creature she had made and held in her womb for nine moons… And realizes then that all the sickness she felt, all the heaviness from carrying her heavy womb, all the pain she had gone through just now, it was all worth it. Worth it in the way the babe holds her finger in a tight grip, in how her little head seems to turn in every direction trying to figure itself out. She doesn’t know how she can ever let her go and hand her off to someone else. 

Her head snaps up at the sound of the door opening and Laenor looks at her with wide eyes and a big grin on his youthful face. Rhaenyra doesn’t remember seeing such joy on his face since before their dreadful wedding. He approaches the bed and his eyes fall down to the babe in her arms, bundled up in a soft, velvet cloth. She watches as he comes closer and his eyes widen when he finally sees her and realizes that the child is his… possibly the only trueborn child that Rhaenyra could ever give him.

Her closeness with Ser Harwin since the wedding is not something she hid from her husband. Laenor even encouraged it, told her to be with him if it brought her happiness. Because of her closeness with him and her attempts with Laenor, Rhaenyra could not be sure of who’s child she would give birth to and she knew deep down in her heart that if she is to bear any future children, they would be Harwin’s and not Laenor’s… but she will love them all the same.

Laenor’s shocked gaze is on her now but she smiles at him in happiness and relief that is clearly mirrored on his face. He puts a hand to her head, gently brushing over her forehead and her barely visible white hair. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, so soft and gentle as if she could break. Rhaenyra sees tears gather in his eyes and she knows then that this child means everything to him. He takes her into his arms and Rhaenyra almost wants to cry at the loss but keeps her eyes settled on Laenor who looks quite comical with his daughter in his arms, a big grin on his face and tears falling down his cheeks. The midwives are fussing around and starting to clean up and Rhaenyra knows she needs to get up and take a bath but how can she leave her little one out of her sight? How could she ever look away from her precious girl? Not holding her in her arms is bad enough as it is.

“My daughter, my precious girl. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me… My beautiful girl. You’ll be the most beautiful woman in the realm, the most wonderful queen of the seven kingdoms. My perfect little girl.” He kisses her forehead once more and it’s so sweet and loving that it almost feels too intimate for Rhaenyra to watch. Laenor turns to her with a blinding smile that makes her smile back at him. She might never bear any more of his children but at least they have her.

Laenor continues to dote on her and gently rocks her back and forth as her maids clean up the mess of blood all around her and prepare a bath for her. Rhaenyra is a mess of sweat and blood, her body aches from all the pushing, her throat feels sore from screaming but she still can not look away from the miracle that her husband is holding in his arms and she wishes she could hold her again… Surely he’s held her longer than she did before she was taken from her.

Just as she is about to call for Laenor to give her back, the doors open once more and her father and Alicent walk in. Great, she thinks. He’ll surely not let her go either.

“We rushed here as soon as we heard. My first grandchild! Now, let me see her.” Her father smiles brightly as he approaches her husband who seems very reluctant to hand the newborn off but does so all the same. Viserys smiles down at the little bundle and he seems so happy, so carefree as if he was holding his own child. She sees the facade of a smile on Alicent’s face crumble at that because her stepmother has never seen the king hold any of his children with her with so much care and love. Rhaenyra watches the queen compose herself and how she smiles at her step-granddaughter with veiled bitterness in her eyes and it makes Rhaenyra’s blood boil, makes her skin itch. She has half a mind to stand up and rip the baby away and back to her chest, where she belongs but her father dotes on her so sweetly, whispers to her about how beautiful and strong she will be and her love for her father and daughter is greater than her hate for Alicent.

“Have you named her yet?” The venom drips from the queen’s mouth with her words and her smile does nothing to soothe Rhaenyra. She then looks at her father who has looked up from the babe in his arms to look at her and Laenor. Her husband looks at her and nods happily, reassuring her of their previously discussed decision.

“Her name shall be Alyssa. Named after Queen Alyssa, the first Velaryon married into House Targaryen since the Conquest… and of course, after my grandmother.” Rhaenyra says her words carefully since she knows that her grandmother is a sore subject for her father but knows that he would love the chosen name. Viserys’ face lights up even more and he looks back down at the babe. Rhaenyra watches as he softly brushes a thumb over her tiny cheek and her heart warms in a way she has never felt before. How ironic, she thinks. I was so against marrying and being bound to bear children… and now I am utterly on my knees for this tiny little creature. My daughter. Rhaenyra’s heart clenches at the thought and for the first time, she is happy that she was somewhat forced into this marriage.

“A wonderful name for a beautiful little girl. She’ll be a good and kind queen but hopefully not as troublesome of a girl as your grandmother used to be.” Rhaenyra, Viserys and Laenor laugh at that. Alicent’s faked smile remains unmoved.

A few more minutes pass by as Viserys dotes on his grandchild before he gives her back to Laenor. Rhaenyra still lies in bed but is sat upright, a blanket over her lower body to hide the blood. Her father comes to her and kisses her forehead sweetly, squeezes her hand and smiles warmly. 

“You did well, my dear. I know you were scared but your efforts were worth it, you have a beautiful daughter now and proven that you’re worthy of what I have bestowed upon you by having an heir. She’ll be loved and cherished, your little Alyssa.” Rhaenyra smiles at her father and she can tell that he’s proud of her, something that Rhaenyra has always craved and so rarely received… she wishes that it would be for an actual accomplishment rather than giving birth but right now, she is simply happy to have her little girl. Her father and stepmother leave after that and Rhaenyra can finally freely glare at Laenor who begrudgingly gives his daughter back to her mother. She smiles down as the little girl is back in her arms and the babe makes a squealing sound of delight as she squirms around in her arms. Rhaenyra feels an overwhelming amount of love wash over her, to the point that it aches her heart and she places a few loving kisses on her head. She feels her husband’s gaze on them and looks back up at him, a humorous smile on her face.

“I suppose we got lucky… You have a child by blood after all.” Laenor laughs lowly and places a head on the babe’s head, simply letting his daughter feel his presence. His smile dims a little and Rhaenyra thinks it’s because he realizes that they won’t be so lucky next time and her own smile falls a little at that. Laenor notices this and gives her a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder.

“I will love and claim every child that you will give birth to. You might not bear any more of my children but I will love the other ones all the same. Do not worry yourself Rhaenyra.”

She feels better hearing those words and feels as if she can breathe a little easier. “Thank you, Laenor. For now, I’m perfectly happy and content with her. She’s truly our little miracle.”

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

A while later, after being bathed and having fed Alyssa, Rhaenyra feels much better without all the blood and sweat. She sits on the daybed in her room with her newborn daughter in her arms. Her eyes had opened just before she handed her off to her maid and the princess was delighted to see her purple eyes, the color close to purple amethysts that could only be found across the Narrow Sea. She stares at those purple eyes now and wonders how she could have ever thought of not wanting this sweet little babe. She’s glad to be alone for a moment since her emotions are overwhelming her. Laenor had gone off to write letters to Driftmark and Pentos, one for his mother and father and one for his sister. Rhaenyra briefly thinks of Daemon but shakes her head, knowing that whatever she had with him had died at that horrid wedding feast. 

She is snapped out of her thoughts when a knock sounds on the door and she frowns when the door opens since she did not signal for anyone to enter. The frown is quickly replaced by an amused grin when she sees that her little brother, Prince Aegon is standing at the door with a mischievous grin that reminds her of herself.

“What are you doing here all alone, little brother? Come in, otherwise someone might catch you!”

Rhaenyra looks at him with wide comical eyes and Aegon laughs sweetly at that. He closes the door behind himself and taps towards her with his little feet. The princess smiles at how adorable he looks with his hair all messed up and an excited glint in his eyes.

At first, Rhaenyra did not show any interest in Aegon for obvious reasons. She thought that with his birth, her father would replace her since he so desperately wanted a son all this time but her anger was quelled when he told her that he would do no such thing. Her pregnant state also made her more amenable towards him, her forming mother instincts kicking in when she noticed him crawling around in the halls of the castle. It angered her that Alicent would let Rhaenyra’s own baby brother go about without a guard watching but was told that ever since the little prince had learned how to walk, he was an unstoppable force and would sneak away when no one was looking. The few times that she had found him and brought him back to the nursery, he had quickly attached himself to her and wormed his way into her heart with his crooked teeth, adorable giggle and shining eyes so it was to no surprise that instead of mindlessly roaming the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, he would start to directly come to his sister’s chambers with his toys in tow and sit and play with his sister. He had also been curious about her ever growing belly and asked every time when the baby would be coming. 

She can see the confusion when he comes to a stop in front of her and stares at her stomach that is significantly smaller now and it makes her giggle when he looks up at the bundle she’s holding in her arms. His eyes widen and a bright smile forms on his lips as he looks into her eyes.

“Baby? Nyra’s baby?” Her heart clenches at how excited he looks and she nods eagerly and motions for him to sit next to her. He wastes no time as he uses his hands and feet to climb up and his small weight is familiar and comforting as he leans into her left side and peers up at her daughter. The princess lowers her arms and her heart clenches at the way he shrieks excitedly as he can actually see the newborn now. He watches curiously as the babe’s hands flail around as if she wants to grasp something and her eyes flick around the ceiling, her gaze unable to properly focus and look at anything. Yet when Aegon carefully lifts his hand towards her to hold out a finger for her to grasp, it is as if she’s looking into his soul when she grabs his forefinger in a tight grip, at least as tight as an infant could grip. Aegon gasps as her beautiful purple eyes stare into his, her squirming stopping and a happy little shriek coming from her mouth which forms into the resemblance of a smile. The young prince feels as if his heart flips at such a delightful sound and he looks up at Rhaenyra who watches both of them with a big grin.

“This is your niece, little brother and her name is Alyssa. She’s adorable, isn’t she? And she clearly likes her uncle very much already. She is still too young to play with now but in a few moons, you can play with her. Just don’t take her to explore the castle all on your own, alright? She’s still very young and you need to make sure she’s safe and protected as her uncle.” She smiles when she sees that he listen to her so attentively, taking in all her words and nods when she finishes speaking. He turns his head back down to the babe who still holds his finger as if he would leave any minute. She’s still looking at him in a way that Aegon can’t describe but it makes him want to protect and care for her. He has no siblings at the moment but his mother’s belly is swelling just as his sister’s was so he knows that he will have a little sibling soon but he thinks he wants to spend his time with Alyssa right now since his sister said that she needs to be protected. Besides, there is an indescribable feeling in his chest ever since he gazed at the little baby. As if this is where he belongs, as if he should never part from her side. He shakes his head a little and focuses on smiling back at the sweet little girl, sticking his tongue out and making a silly face that makes Alyssa shriek and gurgle in delight. His chest feels odd at the sound.

It’ll go away, he thinks.

[sweetestpopcorn]

Do you mind telling us your opinion on what astrological signs the Blacks are?

Hi there! 🤗

Sorry for this delay and may I say that your ask was so polite! I am almost not used to this!

Omg I love this ask! And can I say I am not an expert on signs but I get curious and binge watch youtube so XD let's do this.

Easiest one first.

Daemon Targaryen - Scorpio. I mean... is there ANY doubt?!

The sign most associated with sex. Dark. Mysterious. Easy to anger and slow to forgive (if ever). Vengeful. Relentless desire for control. Manipulative. Ambitious. Enticing. Someone who almost never opens open and hides away their feelings. 

I think Daemon is almost a perfect personification of what a scorpio is hitting all the major points. 

BUT I would add that he is a Scorpio with Sagittarius rising as a reader I had who knows MUCH more about signs than I once told me she was sure he had this combo, and that this was the hottest combo for the gentlemen, so yeah. I can see it as Daemon did seem to be fun-loving, party-boy, and outspoken. And the Sagittarius I have met in life do NOT back down from a fight! Imagine someone with this Scorpio-Sagittarius combo in a fight... Yep. That’s Daemon.

Rhaenyra Targaryen - Taurus. No doubts there.

Very stubborn. Demanding. Prone to anger. They like pleasure and the fine things in life, like to live a comfortable life. Resilient. Devoted to those they love. Jealous and possessive. Like to be pampered. 

While Scorpio is the most sexual sign of the zodiac, Taurus is the most sensual sign. And there’s little surprise that these two form one of the most explosive combos of the zodiac, and supposedly they are the hottest of all the zodiac combos. Complementary opposites. I think this pretty much sums up Daemon and Rhaenyra -> very similar in some things and opposites in others. 

Rhaenys Targaryen - it’s actually canon she is a Cancer because we do get her name day. So this just makes my job easier and yes I do think she has many of the Cancer traits. Does not back down from a fight. Cares deeply about family. 

Corlys Velaryon - Leo. I did struggle with what sign I should give the Sea Snake, and for a long time I thought something like Sagittarius because of how adventurous he was, but in the end I think he screams Leo. He’s super charismatic, proud, major main character vibes. I mean it’s said the only woman good enough for him was Rhaenys Targaryen so like... 

Corlys:

Jace “Velaryon” - Sagittarius

We know he was born later in the year so it’s really between Sagittarius and Capricorn. I choose Sagittarius, however, because of how good with people Jace was. He easily inspired loyalty, was charismatic, independent, and took initiative. 

Luke “Velaryon” - Capricorn

He was also born late in the year and him and Jace need at the very least like 10 months between them?! Let me have a year please XD. Please XD for my sanity. 

So I was actually torn between Capricorn and Sagittarius with Luke, but his seriousness and how he kept his word instead of beating Aemond -> any proper Sagittarius would have taken him up on his offer of a showdown I think XD like these people do NOT mess around, they are a fire sign - make me say Capricorn. 

Joffrey “Velaryon” - Aries

I am going to say Aries because of how hot-tempered and bold he was. He acted first and thought later -> as he did during the storming of the Dragonpit - and showed enormous bravery. 

Aegon III Targaryen - Capricorn 

Luckily this is canon too so less work for me as we know our God and Saviour was born at the end of the year, like last days. And this is the sign of divine people btw. 

Viserys II - Aquarius 

The sign of so many incredibly smart people - I mean Darwin was an Aquarius! Duh! Analytical, detached... plus I love the idea of the best boys being the Ice Kings. Just making others uncomfortable with their silence and then giving them the verbal beatdown of the century. Btw I think this sign would fit Daemon’s boys very well. I mean... imagine taking on a scorpio an Aquarius and a capricorn... it’s like... call the police. 

Baela and Rhaena - Thank GOD these two were twins since this means less work for me XD. Gemini. This is not me just being funny and obvious. I think these two do fit well with being Geminis. They just seem to have a way with people, they exuded energy and positivity wherever they went, and Baela does show she was NOT to be messed with as anyone who knows a Gemini knows it’s better to be on their good side. 

That’s all! ☺️ and again sorry for my delay!

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Can you please write a fic for that Aemond kidnapping his niece to marry her moodboard.

(Of course I can. That’s not the kind of request my fucked up mind turns down🤣)

Aemond had always needed her, ever since they were children. She was 2 years younger than him but Y/n had always been the only one to treat him kindly, always punching her brothers for their bitchy “jokes” that she hated just as much as Aemond did.

Y/n didn’t have a dragon either, but unlike Aemond she wasn’t teased for it, neither her mother Rhaenyra nor Alicent would tolerate boys teasing a Princess in any way, and Y/n was also deathly afraid of dragons. The only one she wasn’t afraid of was ironically Caraxes, Daemon dragging her onto his back many times as a child. The Bloodworm adored the small Targaryen quite a bit, Aemond had a sneaking suspicion it was because Daemon was Y/n’s father and his dragon knew it just as well as everyone else, though no one commented on it for fear of Viserys’ wrath. The only time Daemon got to spend with her was riding Caraxes when he visits the Keep so Aemond assumes that’s why his Uncle put in the extra effort to make her comfortable with the red dragon.

Aemond had made her promise that she would do the same with his dragon some day, he would take her riding, of that he was sure! She actually seemed quite excited about it, probably more so about her Uncle getting what he wanted so badly, more than anything in the world.

The night that Aemond mounted Vhagar, Y/n had been with him (on the dunes and far from the dragon) and she was so happy for him, running to wrap her arms around him as he stepped away from the she-dragon. Vhagar seemed to inspect her momentarily before groaning and laying down to go back to sleep. She had stuck by him against her brothers and cousins when they declared Vhagar to be Rhaena’s to claim, insisting you can’t call dibs on a dragon. Aemond had been the one to shove her to the ground, away from the fighting so that she wouldn’t get hurt. She had gotten back up anyway, jumping at Luke the second after he had sliced his eye open, ending up with a deep and jagged cut along her neck as she hit him repeatedly until his face was black and blue, a guard pulling her off when Jace couldn’t.

She held Aemonds hand the entire time he was getting stitched up, barely able to ignore the adults or the maester stitching her painful injury on the side of her neck, one Aemond felt terrible about as he failed to protect her. As always she assured him he had done nothing wrong and stayed by his side, eventually drifting off to sleep cuddled into him in the oversized chair. He took the rare opportunity to wrap his arms around her and pull her small body as close as he possibly could, glaring at Jace who was the only one who seemed to be watching their snuggling.

He hadn’t been able to object when Daemon took her from him, the stern man giving him a look that dared him to wake her by making a scene, Daemon being the only person in the world that actually scared him. He hadn’t been able to object to her boarding a boat later that morning either as he had been drugged with milk of the poppy for his pain and put to bed by his mother. He raged for days about not seeing her, violently angry at not getting to say goodbye, as well as all of his letters going ignored (thanks to Rhaenyra deciding Aemond and Y/n’s relationship was over). Y/n never forgave her mother for that, or for how much (like Rhaenyra’s father had loved her the most of all his children) Rhaenyra adored her brothers more than she ever loved Y/n.

It was many years later, 8 to be exact, when Aemond was 8 and 10 that he finally heard about Y/n again, Rhaenyra apparently putting out the word that now that her daughter was 6 and 10, she was looking for a suitor. The rage that built in Aemond burned hotter than dragon fire, his blood was boiling and Alicent pleaded with her son not to do anything drastic as he stormed from the room that his mother and sister were playing with Helaena’s twins in. He dressed in all black, before escaping away on Vhagar that evening.

It was pitch black out, somewhere in the early hours of the morning that Aemond arrived at Dragonstone. He hadn’t spent a large amount of time there, but he knew where Y/n’s room was and sneaking around the sleeping guards after landing Vhagar on the far side of the island was far too easy. Aemond made a mental note to keep her far safer when she was his wife, not willing to risk his wife and children’s lives as Rhaenyra was clearly willing to do with her children. He briefly contemplated sneaking in and killing Luke while he was here but he wouldn’t risk causing a commotion too early and not being able to sneak away. The last thing he needed with a sleepy bride on his dragon with him, was a battle in the sky.

He snuck into her room, shutting the door quietly behind him and saw her sleeping soundly in her bed. She was beautiful, prettier than he could have imagined as he sat on the edge of the bed, stroking the side of her face gently as he used to do to wake her up for their morning classes.

‘Open those eyes Byka Zaldrīzes, your Prince has come for you.’ He whispered, leaning over her and seeing her lashes flutter before she fought through the drowsy confusion and realized who he was.

‘Aemond? Is this another dream?’ She mumbled, sitting up slightly and staring at him.

‘You dream of me often Byka Zaldrīzes?’ He wondered and she nodded.

‘I always dream of you Kepus, I have missed you for so long!’ She lunged forward, hugging around his neck and he pushed through the dirty thoughts his mind came up with as he felt her chest pressed against his in her sheer night gown. ‘Wait, what are you doing here?’ She questioned, pulling away but he didn’t let her get far as his arms still held her.

‘I’ve come to steal you away, my love. I could not allow your mother to give away my bride. After all, we’re already married.’ Her eyes widened and she giggled at the mention of their fake wedding they had when they were 7 and 5, promising themselves to each other one day when they were old enough.

‘I wish you could Kepus, but I am to be married to Cregan Stark, mother has already arranged it. I am to freeze the rest of my life away in a castle so far North I’ll never see flowers bloom again.’ He could see how unhappy she was about it and he knew he could convince her. He would take her if he had to, and technically people would believe that either way, but he didn’t want her to hate him, Aemond wanted Y/n to adore him as she always had, as he had always loved so much. ‘However, it’s my duty-‘

‘What about your duty to me? The promises we made-‘

‘Childish promises cannot be upheld Aemond, no matter how desperately we wish they could, and our Mothers would never let us marry!’

‘My mother has agreed, if you come back to Kings Landing with me, to your home, we will get married in the ways of old Valyria, like you always wanted…will the Stark idiot give you that? I think not…do you not love me anymore-‘

‘Don’t ever say that!’ She exclaimed and he shushed her quickly. ‘You are my one true love Kepus, you always were and you always will be…but I have a duty-‘

‘As do I, yet my mother sees how much you mean to me and she has given me her blessing…your mother does not care about the happiness of her daughter, which is odd considering how strongly she felt about choosing who she married, but she knows who you would choose, and so she forces you…come with me. We will be wed the moment we return and by the time your mother figures it out it will be too late, I will surely have consummated our marriage and you’ll be stuck with me. You’re mine Little Princess, no matter what they say, and I’m taking you with me.’ He had pushed her back and leaned over her in the bed as he spoke, hands on her waist while now pressing his lips over the deep scar on her neck and hearing her gasp. ‘I know I excite you…does that Stark excite you the way I do? Hmm? Does he make your heart race and your cunt drip? Do you touch yourself while you think of him like I know you do me?’ Y/n whimpered as Aemond continued kissing up her jaw, sucking on a spot that made her moan like a silk street whore, leaving a dark purple bruise in his wake before pressing his lips to hers, his nieces arms wrapping around his neck tightly. ‘You know that you’re mine. Don’t you?’

‘Kepus…’

‘You’re mine Little Princess, no matter what they tell you…and I’m taking you with me one way or another. Come willingly and enjoy your life with me, because I desperately want to wake to you in my arms tomorrow, ravaged and happy, with my son growing in your needy little womb.’ She whined as his hand trailed to her belly, pressing over where his children will grow inside of her. ‘You want that, don’t you? How many did you say we would have? 4? Imagine how gorgeous you’ll look carrying my babies, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you. Neither will anyone else, I’ll be cutting off hands left and right of the men who would take you from me…we must go, before I ruin you here and now.’ Aemond pressed his lips to hers one last time before pulling away and standing, holding his hand out to her and waiting as she stared up at him, grabbing his hand and allowing him to sweep her into his arms. He quickly grabbed her heavy black cloak and closed the door behind them silently again, getting back out of the castle and only having to avoid 2 guards. ‘You’ll be much better protected when we get home. My Little Princess will never worry about anything again in her life.’ He promised, walking back down to where Vhagar rested, waiting for her rider to return. Y/n stiffened in his arms when she saw the large dragon, nails digging into him as he approached her. ‘Relax, she won’t harm you. She knows how much I love you, she has since the moment you hugged me on the beach.’ Vhagar looked at her but didn’t seem bothered before Aemond suddenly swung her over his shoulder.

‘Aemond! I can climb myse-‘

‘Nonsense! I will not have you falling! You’re alright right where you are!’ He knew he was impressing her with just how strong he was, hauling them both up onto the dragon without even breathing heavily. ‘Now, hold on.’ He instructed, setting her in front of him on the saddle and wrapping her up in the heavy cloak to fight back the chilly wind that is above the clouds.

Upon their return, Aemond instantly had everyone ready to witness their marriage, Alicent having been prepared for exactly this. It was quick, but perfect for his Princess, and he adored seeing her smiling face through the entire ceremony before he hauled her into his arms once again and whisked her back to their chambers.

‘I’m going to fuck you so full you be dripping for days!’ He swore, dropping her onto the bed and peeling off his clothing instantly, her eyes going wide as she saw him bare for the first time. ‘You are just perfectly innocent, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am! You think I would give myself to anyone but my husband?’ He could see she was offended by the mere thought and he couldn’t stop the chuckle.

‘Never, you are my sweet little Princess, of course you are all mine.’ Aemond climbed over her and shoved the skirts up her waist, exposing her completely for him, throwing the dress away from the bed. ‘You are everything I have always dreamed of, since we were children I have craved you and that has never changed…I’m going to devour you, my sweet Dragon.’ He could feel how wet she was as he guided the head of his cock up and down her slit several times before pushing his way into her. He clenched his teeth as he heard her give a sharp gasp in pain, knowing he needed to be gentle. He had only ever done this once before and it was a terrible experience for him, his brother taking him to a brothel but Y/n was wetter, and tighter, so tight on his cock it almost hurt as he bottomed out inside of her and held himself over her, brushing her hair from her eyes and focusing on them until she was able to relax. Her arms wound around his neck as he pulled back and then pushed back into her several times. As he pushed himself into her body harder he could hear her whines in his ear, his cock twitching at the mere thought of making his Princess feel good on his cock, a feat no one but he would ever accomplish.

‘Aemond! Oh F-Fuck! Aem-I feel…’

‘Good girl Princess, cum for me! Finish with my cock thrusting into you, deeper than anything has ever been!’

‘Oh God-‘

‘Not God! No, I am your husband! Husband…Uncle…and in this room I am your King! You are going to cum all over my cock because your King demands it!’

‘Yes! Yes-Please-‘

‘Now!’ As he growled out that last demand the tight feeling that he was convinced couldn’t squeeze him harder, did, and he felt his cock twitching hard.

‘Yes! Please? Make me yours Aemond! Fill me up my King!’

That threw him over the edge. His perfect little niece that he had craved nearly their whole lives, the one that had been stolen from him, that he had to steal back in the dead of night, and here she is begging to be full of his sons and calling him “King”? He is in love!

‘You’re trembling.’ She mumbled in his ear as he collapsed against her shaking in his post orgasm bliss, face nuzzled into her neck.

‘Mine. All mine now little Niece, nothing can take you from me…all mine.’ He swore, knowing that no matter what Daemon and Rhaenyra did, they could never take her from him again.

If they tried, he would have his dragon burn their world to the ground.

Aemond T. Masterlist

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