#Aemond One-Eye

[myfandomprompts]

You Belong To Me Now

Summary: Aemond has become Prince Regent, and there is now nothing holding him from claiming you.

A/N: Quick smutty darkish!Aemond x Reader I wrote, nothing fancy

Words: 2.8k Masterlist [Spanish version - Wattpad by daisy_dont]

Warnings: praise kink, biting, vaginal, bruises, choking, obsession, dom, blowjob

Aemond had been Regent for a few months now, and although the Valyrian steel of the Conqueror’s crown didn’t rest upon his head yet, it was now an undeniable fact to every member of the realm that he had been born for this. All could finally witness his real worth, his superiority and how good he was at being a commander, a King.

No, he excelled at it. The Blacks haven’t even dared to approach King’s Landing even once in the last few months, and under his command all fear him, all obey him. He was far better at this than his father ever was, than his sister ever will be, and certainly than his broken brother is, tucked in his bed.

His new duties obliged him to be away often, to ride Vhagar and lead his armies on the usurpers who wanted to decimate them and take his city, but when he was back in the Red Keep, all he sees is you.

In fact, he wonders why he had never noticed you before as he crosses paths with you in the corridors, watches you in the throne room during audiences, laughing and hugging your lady friends. Maybe you are part of a House who came to the capital in order to help grow his army, that you are the daughter of an ally he had never bothered to be properly introduced to, because this was all they were to him: his subjects.

Nevertheless you are there, bright as the sun when he spots you when he least expects it and, despite his limited vision, he doesn’t seem to miss your presence, ever. He doesn’t miss the way you play with your hair when you're deep in thought, how your hips sway when you walk, how your fingers surround the glass you take to drink and how the skin of your throat glows as you swallow the liquid.

That he became obsessed was an understatement. There was no rest for his mind, and even amidst the excitement of the battle he thought about your appreciative look when he would return, triumphant. He had talked to you once, the sound of your voice making the hair on his skin raise in delight as he was introduced to you. He knew your name now, and he wouldn't stop there, you occupied every corner of his mind and inhabited his skin.

However and to his greatest dismay, the crown keeps him occupied, reducing the occurrences he can observe you, enjoying how you don't cower under his gaze; you staring back at him like it's a game, one that he never intends to lose.

He doesn’t miss the glances you draw from other lords either, eliciting an icy violence deep within his body and it makes his desire for you grow ever greater. He wants you to be his, completely.

This is why he sends for you one night, confident that you cannot refuse after spending the day looking at you like a starved dog, the lust between his legs becoming harder and harder to control. But he was Aemond Targaryen, and what he wanted, he would have. 

When you enter his chambers and he dismisses his servant; you look at a loss, but intrigued, like a deer caught between hounds but you are still composed, the very image of a Lady from a House he had only bothered to learn its name today. All he knows, deep in his gut, is that you are right where you are supposed to be.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

He takes in your looks, the way your eyes glints with curiosity, the heaving of your chest constricted in this infernal gown he only wishes to rip off, and how sweet you look as you blush out of uneasiness.

When you shake your head so softly, he grins before coming to stand before you. “You’re here to help me with a matter that needs tending to. But first, I need assistance removing my clothes.”

The widening of your eyes makes the colour of it stand out better, and he waits for you to process his order and obey, admiring your beautiful features and the way your lips part in shock. “Go on."

He knows you cannot refuse, seeing the slight confusion in your eyes as your hands reach the buckles of his collar, undoing it one by one with your pretty, trembling little fingers. It takes all of his patience to not move his hands over your form and revel in the sight, smiling to himself.

When his green doublet is removed, his linen shirt remains and he doesn’t let you take a breath when you pull away. “It’s not over, is it? Continue.”

You cast an almost fearful glare at him before resuming your task, helping him out of his shirt gently with concentrated eyes and when your skin touches his in the process, he has to stop a shaky exhale from escaping his mouth.

He sees how you look at his toned chest, pale defined arms, and then glance at his trousers with tight lips. He retains a sneer as he turns away from you and towards his bed, surprising you with his sudden departure.

“Do you know how the other lords look at you, sweet thing? How they look and look, like they had a chance with you? Do you know how much they wish they could bury their cocks into you and take you as they pleased?”

You turn a lovely shade of red, spreading from your face to your neck and below your cleavage, his lewd words disconcerting you and your perfect little honour. How he likes it on you, that innocence.

“Of course you don’t,” he continues, taking a seat at the edge of his bed and not missing a piece of your deliciously growing, panicking state. “You don’t care about them, do you? You just care about serving your Kingdom at most of your capacities.”

You swallow, your body noticeably relaxing lightly at his words but the movement draws his eye to your neck and he instantly wishes he could mark you there, right at the junction of it, where a mole he had not noticed before lays.

“My Prince, I-”

“Come here,” he beckons, patting on his lap after your croaked out attempt of a response. He will spare you the need to explain that yes, you do want to serve your realm loyally, and thus serve him as well. 

You hesitate, eyes darting between his legs and his face, and the lust grows at the thought that he might have to make you obey by other means. But at the sight of his hard expression, you have the good sense to approach, slowly, coming to stand between his legs and he grabs your hips at once, lowering you down onto his lap abruptly.

You let out a yelp at that, your legs forced to straddle him and you have to cling on his shoulders for support, face flushed and thinking fast. Aemond, on the other hand, feels every cell of his body come alive, a wicked smile appearing on his face.

“You know, I haven’t been with many women, but you… you’re something else, aren’t you? You make me understand why men look at women the way they do, what they find so irresistible about them....” he murmurs, putting one strand of your hair aside while his eye trails the pumping of the veins in your delicate neck. “Why all of those lords look at you… But they can’t have you.”

His tone is firmer now, unforgiving. “I have a claim on you they don’t have, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence you came here. That you are in this castle, under my protection.”

You seem unable to speak and the little noises he hears as you try to take a more comfortable position on his lap are like music to him, making him harder under his pants. He takes your hips a little too roughly than he intended in order to pull you to him.

“I’ve been thinking about you for days now, and I ran out of patience, so here is what is going to happen, sweetling. You’re going to take my cock, fully, like the sweet and obedient lady you are so I can feel every damn corner of your cunt, deep enough for me to fill you up.”

With his last sentence he pulls you closer onto him so you can finally feel his hardened state and you whimper in shock, the sound resonating into the room like a pathetic echo as he takes in the sweet scent of your skin, his nose trailing your neck hungrily.

“Hmm, my little pet, so flustered…” he praises as you tense on top of him, your pelvis hitting his member delectably. “You didn’t think I rode the largest dragon in the world and had nothing to show for it, did you?” 

He takes a few more moments to enjoy the friction of your layers against his groin, feeling your body turn soft before gently pushing you away from him to let you unlace the ties of your gown with a commanding look. When you are bare before him, he licks his lips, the sight of your pretty little pussy making his now free cock throb in anticipation.

“You are gonna take me so well, you want to please your Prince, don’t you?”

The way you quickly nod in submission destabilises him so much that he has to take a moment before finding his composure again, his desire slowly growing out of control as he stares at you. But he must be patient, enjoy this, because he is no low man, nothing like the rest of them. So he sits back on the bed and invites you to him, noticing your already blown pupils staring at him.

He doesn’t care that you aren’t prepared, that it might be difficult for you to take him this early because the urge to sheath himself deep inside of you is too strong. But when you hover over him and your folds meet his tip you are so fucking wet that all his fears are swept away, replaced by the indescribable lust that takes hold of him, eager to have you, exactly like you want him.

The sensation makes him unable to concentrate before he puts his hands on your thigh to help you down, and it’s absolutely amazing. You’re warm, tight, right for him; the sweet moan that escapes your lips making him twitch as he looks at your knitted brows that tells him you are feeling him, truly feeling him. You go achingly slow and he can’t help but hiss in frustration, but at this point you deserve to have your own pace; he will be able to take his due later, when you’re accustomed to him.

He can tell from your expression that it hurts, and it makes his loins surge with fire at the thought, the wickedness of it so darkly satisfying. 

“That’s it, all of it. You’re doing so well.”

He finally feels resistance nudging at his tip and he knows you are completely his now, looking at his cock buried deep inside your cunt and you let out a high pitch moan when you still, flesh against flesh in the most deliciously painful kind of way.

It feels right, he can almost feel your heartbeat upon his length and when he slightly withdraws in order to surge his hips forward, instantly hitting your depth hard, you wail loudly.

Aemond laughs as he squeezes your hips harder. “My sweet pet, so beautiful for me. How is it to feel it so deep? Do you want to move for me?”

He grunts when you start to move; he doesn’t have to do anything, your warmth and slickness making him absolutely wanton, and he doesn’t think he had ever felt this complete in his life. It allows him to look at you, take in your bouncing breasts, magnificently round, and he can’t help but reach for them, propping himself up on a sitting position before biting one of your nipples hard, and the sound you let out makes him want to do it again.

But for now he wants to mark you everywhere, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, your delicate shoulders. He wants to cover you with his tongue and bruise you while you ride him so exquisitely, his mind foggy and half conscious. He feels your nails digging into his back when he sucks at the base of your neck, leaving a trail of drool that covers your skin. He bullies your breasts for his own pleasure and his cock feels every one of your jolts, squeezing him.

He makes you swivel, his length briefly sliding out of you before he lays you down on your belly and enters you again, lacing one arm behind your back to help him pound into you mercilessly, taking full control for the first time and it feels so good that a shameless growl resonates deep within his throat.

“You’re married, aren’t you?” he asks with a grin, admiring your back and the curve of your ass.

“Promised…” you pant through your moans. “To Lord Blount…”

“I see… Then Lord Blount will have an assignment in a land far away very soon,” he purrs with arrogance as he quickens his pace.

The new angle makes you moan loudly, your position seemingly uncomfortable enough to make each rocking of his hips like it’s the last you’ll be able to take. Soon you’re clenching around him, screaming out loud while your shattering orgasm turns you into a puddle in his arms when he lifts you against his chest, whispering in your ear.

“Fucking hell, you like that, don’t you? You couldn’t help but come all over my cock like the good lady you are.”

He keeps jerking his hips until you grow completely silent, feeling his legs momentarily weak when your walls give him a particularly strong squeeze and he withdraws.

You’re unable to move so he lets you lay back on the bed as he examines your folds, red and swollen from his brutal pace and he passes one finger between them to gather your slick. You moan at the sensation as he tastes you, licking his fingers hungrily.

“Bloody Seven, you taste delicious,” he praises as you try to find your breathing. “You’re mine from now on, understood?"

He barely acknowledges the curt nod you make before he laces his fingers around your neck, drawn to its softness and the bruises that begin to form there. He strokes the column of it softly, thoroughly, before grasping the base of your throat so he can hold on to it, hovering over you as he slides gently into you again, your folds spasming briefly from your aftershock. He sees you close your eyes, hiding your beautiful irises from him and he wishes you would look at him, something you do when you feel his hand around your neck constricting.

“Aem-” you let out.

“What is it?” he asks, watching your lips make the most amazing sounds he had ever heard while he rocks into you, his weight on your neck. “Is it my name you want to say? You can scream it if you want.”

But you don’t, to his greatest displeasure, apparently unable to do so as your features stiffen, so he snakes a hand to your dripping cunt, zoning on your swollen clit and you tremble beneath him. When he works your bud, fingers circling it at an unrelenting pace, your lips form an “o” and he decides here and there that he will cum in your mouth. For now, he concentrates on the roll of his hips and the movements of his fingers, one over your neck and the other making you grind onto it in yearning.

You are at his mercy.

“Will you scream my name now, pretty little thing? I can feel you close…”

It takes a tremendous effort from his part to not come undone himself when you finally do, trapped at his own game as you pulse around him, your back arching, and the way you finally cry out his name doesn’t help the little restraint he has left. He growls when you go limp under him, unwilling to let go of your neck and overstimulated bud as he works you through your climax.

“On all fours,” he commands when he finds enough composure to speak, propping himself up on his knees on the mattress and daring to pump himself a few times while you do as told.

He instantly comes to grab your hair, your expression completely in disarray from his brutal ministration on you and, when your mouth meets his weeping head, he can’t process anything, the contrast between the intensity of your folds and the soft warmth and slowness of your tongue killing him. He has the greatest desire to buck his hips into your mouth, to take it all, but your tongue traces along his throbbing vein right before you suck at his most sensitive part and he finishes right there with a croaked moan, painting your mouth with his seed.

You are both panting hard, and when he looks at you behind his hooded eyes, admiring his work, he brings your chin between his fingers and wipes your lips, glossy from his release. “You’ll be there each time I come back, won’t you, pet?”

You nod frantically, exhausted before falling on the bed next to him.

A/N: Thank you @babyblue711 & @arcielee for the beta reading, so much <3

[thewookiesoldiergirl]

daemon: i hope you never meet aemond one-eye. he'll cut you in half as quick as he can say good day.

i don't know, aemond can always make alys's legs stop working with his one-eye 👀

[lives-in-a-harpsichord]

Yeah I'm taking the two notes on the previous post as encouragement to keep doing classical music au

The Green kids have a fun little baroque ensemble in which Aegon plays the harpsichord, the lucky bastard

[0ynes]

I better see aemond x male alys fics in the future. Yall told me alys and female lucerys aren’t your self-insert/oc, so let’s see.

[eschercaine]

Jacaerys & Lucerys:

Jace let Luke chose a dragon egg for their new brother Joffrey.

Luke protected his brother when Aemond is about the bludgeoned Jace with a rock.

Aegon & Aemond:

Aegon being the ringleader of the “Pink Dread” prank.

Aegon calls Aemond a twat.

Aemond thew his brother under the bus when their father questioned him about the rumors regarding Rhaenyra’s children.

[doc42]

“The eyes were where a dragon was most vulnerable...”

Crossbows were much in evidence as well. Every other man seemed to be clutching one, with a quiverfull of bolts hanging from his hip. If anyone had thought to ask him, Tyrion could have told them not to bother. Unless one of those long iron scorpion bolts chanced to find an eye, the queen's pet monster was not like to be brought down by such toys. Dragons are not so easy to kill as that. Tickle him with these and you' ll only make him angry. The eyes were where a dragon was most vulnerable. The eyes, and the brain behind them. Not the underbelly, as certain old tales would have it. The scales there were just as tough as those along a dragon's back and flanks. And not down the gullet either. That was madness. These would-be dragonslayers might as well try to quench a fire with a spear thrust. "Death comes out of the dragon's mouth," Septon Barth had written in his Unnatural History, "but death does not go in that way."

— A Dance With Dragons, Tyrion XI

And it was then, the tales tell us, that Prince Daemon Targaryen swung a leg over his saddle and leapt from one dragon to the other. In his hand was Dark Sister, the sword of Queen Visenya. As Aemond One-Eye looked up in terror, fumbling with the chains that bound him to his saddle, Daemon ripped off his nephew’s helm and drove the sword down into his blind eye, so hard the point came out the back of the young prince’s throat. Half a heartbeat later, the dragons struck the lake, sending up a gout of water that was said to have been as tall as Kingspyre Tower.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

Heh.

[stars-and-clouds]

Aemond Targaryen

I am really noob at the realistic type of painting -hides-

[literary-potato]

Finally got Cubase to export properly.

Fanmade music for HOTD / GOT - imagining what Alys’ motif (ETA which I later posted on its own here) might sound like in later seasons once it’s incorporated with the existing Targaryen motifs and Aemond’s motif (along with hints of “The Truth” / the Jonerys theme)

[myfandomprompts]

You Were Always With Me | Annex One-Shot

Aemond x wife!reader

Summary: Years after the end of the Dance, life goes on with Aemond.

Warnings: vaginal, fluff, pregnancy/labour, light angst, explicit

Note: Is set after epilogue, spoilers for ywawm but if you don't plan to/haven't read it can be read as a one-shot. Masterlist

You swore you could hear it. The faint cracking.

It began to drive you crazy, it was not coming from the hearth, the incandescent ambers casting slim light on the stone tiles of your bedroom, because the fire had died hours ago.

From your position on the bed, you could only stare at the windowed side of the room without  moving your body too much, your swollen belly forcing you to remain annoyingly still at night, and you peered at the big windows at the end of the room where the moonlight filtered. Nothing indicated that something was ablaze anywhere outside either.

Still, you heard the cracking sound.

It was like it had woken you, putting you ill at ease as you looked around your bedroom with your eyes wide open, the chill air of the night making you shiver as you heard an owl hooting outside. At least, it changed from the loud roars and flapping of wings of both Vhagar and Dreamfyre when they decided to go for a nightly hunt. On this night, all seemed calm. 

Except from the cracking.

It was becoming louder by the minute, faster, like something shaking. When you shifted in your furs with the intention of getting up roughly you felt the pooling heat that was Aemond’s hand on your body, resting on the curve between your breasts and your belly, making you hesitate. When you turned to look at him, all you saw was his peaceful pale and fair face turned toward you, his eyes closed and relaxed as he breathed quietly.

Your husband had been there every step of the way, and you were utterly grateful that he had never swayed away from you, always watching over you like a lion would watch over his mate. Or a dragon, and this even in sleep.

The cracking kept on, and after caressing your husband’s hand with your palm you gently set it aside, careful not to wake him up as you lifted yourself up from the mattress and got out of the bed with difficulty. 

The sound was coming from the study, where a bundle of linen that was meant for your soon-to-be born baby was put in a ball, and where the dusk coloured egg was laying. 

You saw it twitch a bit, and your jaw dropped open at the understanding that the egg was seemingly hatching. When you approached it, a louder crack echoed from it as it shook harder, but you had no time to register it as a pang of pain shot in your belly.

You muted a huff of pain as you put your hands on your middle, staring at the ground and holding your breath for the second ache that came through you as the egg cracked again. A third and a fourth stinging ache came a few seconds apart and at the fifth you could not stop the hurtful sigh that escaped out of your mouth.

Aemond’s eye shot open.

“What is it?” he instantly said, alert and lifting himself up, looking around the room with a wary eye before laying it on you. “What are you doing up at this hour? Y/N?”

“I think-” you panted, trying to steady your breath as you acclimated to the new contraction, “I think the baby is coming.”

Aemond was on his feet in a second and rounded the bed to be at your side, taking hold on your shoulders to support you, the feeling of his hands on your skin bringing you slight relief.

“Very well, I’ll get the midwives. Breathe Y/N, everything will be all right.”

He guided you to the chair just in front of the bundle where the orange and golden egg laid, kissing your temple quickly and he left your side, opening the door to your bedroom to shout an order to someone outside before coming back to kneel in front of you. 

He had a wild and worried look on his face, and you could not help but take his hand to reassure him that you were fine. Aemond was strong, but one thing was certain: he hated seeing you in pain, and whenever you went into labour, he was always scared that what had happened during your first pregnancy would occur, or worse.

He palmed your hand inside both of his and you smiled at him. Then a stronger contraction washed over you and you decided that you needed a distraction as the cracking sound continued. 

“Aemond… The egg…”

He followed your gaze directed at the table before laying his eye on the linen. It stayed there as he slowly got up to have a full view of it, his face expressionless.

“How…” He began, but he didn’t have the opportunity to go on when after another crack, a single piece of shell fell from the egg and you screamed in pain, redirecting Aemond’s gaze on you with worry.

Then the midwives rushed into the room among your wails and Aemond’s hand never left yours throughout the night. 

Naerys and Aelar had already a plethora of names for the new dragon, but Aemond had stated that it was for Maenor to name, and that he shall remain nameless until then.

Your children had been disappointed, but they were too enthralled in their new brother and the sight of a baby dragon to complain, and you have to admit that you, too, had never seen a dragon so small, Vermax and Arrax were already big when you met their riders at the time, and you were fascinated by the golden and orange shade of the tiny little scales of this new one.

But not so much by his already sharp fangs, or by the way the spikes on his back deployed whenever a new servant would approach the crib of your one-year-old son, hissing them away.

But he did not spend all of his time with your baby, to your relief. Naerys had introduced him to Dreamfyre once, under the watchful eye of Aemond who recounted you later how the little twilight shaded dragon had tried to breathe fire at his mother’s snout, and you laughed as Aelar tried to take Maenor from your arms to soothe him, sweetly claiming that he managed to calm him far better than you.

The fact that an egg had hatched during the labour of its new rider was unheard of in the history books, the egg initially meant to be placed inside your son’s cradle at birth, Aemond keen on tradition now that he disposed of two new ones, seeing it as a sign. But his pride when it hatched as you screamed his son into the world was such that he would allow the tiny dragon to sleep with Maenor even during the night, something that you evidently were not too fond of. Once, when you were breastfeeding, the dragon had clawed his way onto your shoulder to look at the baby and with a squeal, had started nibbling with your tiny extended son’s hand. You had instantly jolted in your seat, afraid that he would make him bleed but as Maenor started to laugh, you relaxed, realising that even though the dragon’s teeth were sharp, it never pierced the skin, no matter how soft Maenor’s was.

Late at night, when you and Aemond were alone, you would express your anguish at the fact that with now not one, but three dragons in Ivyhorn, the risks of an accident occurring had improved drastically, making you even regret not having dragon keepers in the south to keep them tamed. But Aemond had had the decency not to chuckle too strongly and proceeded to assure you that nothing would happen to you, him, or any of your children. He kissed your fears away that night, telling you that he had it all under control and you believed him, your trust in him, his confidence and the way he had always protected you being everything that you needed.

A dragon, Aelar had none, however. From the two eggs of Dreamfyre’s clutch had been two eggs, one had been given to Aelar, an emerald grey egg that, to this day, had remained still.

But it apparently didn’t bother him this much, as your first-born son had something else in mind.

“But why can’t Naerys fly me there? This way it would be faster!”

“It is impossible, I have told you before, Aelar, we are not allowed there. Not yet at least, I am sorry.”

“When will we be?” he asked with imploring big lilac eyes, the way they grew wider, reminding you of your husband for whom you would be glad for his presence right now.

But for now it was just you as you hesitated to answer his question. “In a few years maybe. But nonetheless, you will not approach any dragons there, is it understood?”

“But he calls me mother! He is all alone! Father understands.”

“Vermithor is not calling you, there are plenty of other dragons with him!” chimed in Naerys who dropped her knitting on her knees to contradict her brother, “You are just jealous because mine came to me on its own.”

“Naerys, please behave, we’ve talked about this,” you scolded, but Aelar was not the type to cower under his sister's teasing.

“And yet you don’t ride her! Ha!”

Naerys only pouted and looked at you with a saddened look. At eight, you were still wary of letting her ride Dreamfyre, although you suspected that Aemond had allowed her without your knowledge once or twice, for she did not ask about riding as frequently as before.

You sighed before ordering Aelar to drop the topic. “Either you settle down, or I will ask the Septa to read for you instead of me.”

Both children sat back in their chairs with scowls on their face, not wanting to miss the opportunity to be with you and hear their favourite stories. 

“Why is it not Father reading to us?” voiced Naerys.

“You know why, because he is taking part in a hunt.”

“He hates hunting,” pointed Aelar out.

You nodded with agreement. “Yes, I know he does. Still, he has not returned yet. I am sure he will be happy to read you the rest when he comes back, I promise. For now you have me.”

As you read the story, something you had dug up in the library that was neither history nor anything too boring about the Houses of Westeros, Aelar’s voice interrupted you after a while.

“Mother, why do they call you the Stolen Jewel?”

You let the last words you were reading linger on your lips, looking at your son like he had uttered incomprehensible words. “Where did you hear that?”

“I heard some of the guards speak about it. Those who were from grandfather’s delegation.” he answered without any hint of shame in his voice.

Your father, Lord Donnel Lydden, had come to visit you for a whole month weeks ago, bringing with him your family as well as a cluster of Lydden and King’s Landing guards alike for protection.

“I am sure you misheard. They clearly talked about a robbery or such, I am sure,” you lied, trying to not let your surname be known to your children.

“No, he was talking about you. I know because they mentioned father too.”

You closed your mouth, feeling trapped as you nervously played with the corner of your book, sensing the curious gaze of both of your children on you.

“Has it something to do with that necklace you always wear?” asked Naerys. “The one that looks like father’s other eye? Did you steal it?”

You softly chuckle at that, closing the book on your lap and reaching for the sapphire around your neck, caressing it pensively.

“No, I did not steal it,” you laughed. “It was indeed a gift from your father.”

“Was he the one who stole it then?” Pressed Aelar.

You internally sighed.

Very well then.

“No, he did not. You were right, I was called the Stolen Jewel for a time, but it did not last, and it had nothing to do with gemstones, but all with your father.”

“Why is that?” asked Naerys as both children were now hung at your every word. “What does it have to do with you?”

“It’s because… he stole me, I suppose,” yYou stated, earning two pairs of eyes growing wide as you shrugged.

“You? But why did he have to steal you?'

“It is… complicated. I was not always meant to be with your father,” you smiled fondly at the sour memory.

“But he told us that you loved each other since you were children,” protested Aelar.

“We did. But as you know, a conflict occurred in the realm, and everything did not go as your father had planned. So he did what he knew best: make what he desired happen, regardless of whatever people would say. And so he took me away.”

You paused as you watched both Naerys and Aelar look confused before the latter spoke again. 

“Were you lost?”

“No, idiot,” chimed Naerys. “He obviously took her away from someone, didn’t he mother?”

“Don’t call your brother an idiot,” you pointed at her. “And yes, he did. He flew on Vhagar and just came for me, ‘stealing me away’ against everybody’s opinion.”

From the look on your daughter’s face, you knew she was about to say something along the lines of “It is so romantic” and you would not have contradicted her, not willing to tell your children the darker side of the story.

“But why did he have to steal you in the first place? Where were you?”

You bit your lip, not wanting to tell the tale of the Qorgyles and their dark fate, or how your husband had suffered heavy loss during that span of time, willing to spare them from this past story. In any case, the three of you were so enthralled in the story that neither of you had noticed the fourth person leaning against the frame of the wooden door behind you, not missing any piece of your tale.

“I was… betrothed, to someone else. Before your father. But now you know why it did not pursue.”

“Were you sad?” Naerys asked naively, and you swore you saw her lips tremble slightly.

“For a time maybe,” you admitted, fidgeting in your chair as you recalled the fear you felt when you learned that your House had been put under siege by Aemond’s order. “But my sorrow was not for the loss of the man I was meant to marry, for I did not love him as I did your father.”

“How come you did not marry father in the first place then? Why did he have to come for you? I thought he was the son of the King,” remarked Naerys again, and you arched a brow at her intelligence.

"Yes, the brother of one too!" added Aelar.

“Being royalty does not grant you freedom of choice Naerys, especially in times of war.” you flatly explained. “As a matter of fact, your father was also betrothed to someone else at the time, someone he did not choose. So we both were in rather difficult predicaments, all for the sake of duty." 

You tried not to recall how your heart felt at the news of his early betrothal, as well as withdraw the image of any dark haired woman that had crossed his path from your mind before paying attention back to your children.

“What you must understand, my dearest, is that…” you began as you leaned forward on your chair to be closer to them. “Your father has always put his family first, as he would do with you now. He and I have and had that in common, and I suppose that we both had to make choices during these difficult times, even though it was breaking our hearts. But in the end, your father fought for me, and we were able to be together, despite the circumstances.”

Your words created a silence between the three of you, your children muted in their confusion and deep thinking, and you felt the need to reassure them, to tell them that nobody had, of course, truly forced you, that you believed it was meant to be.

You would always have chosen Aemond.

“And I am glad he did. Because otherwise, I wouldn't have had you,” you smiled, pinching the cheek of Aelar that was closest to you, making him giggle and Naerys smile warmly as the tension broke.

The fourth person, who had quietly listened to you explaining the setbacks that occurred for him to finally have you, by pure boldness and determination, decided to make himself known at last.

“And what of me, wife? Are you not glad for my presence?”

Aemond’s voice warmed your heart as you smiled to yourself, your son jumping on his feet instantly.

“Father!” he said as he ran into his arms, his size only allowing him to wrap his arms around his father’s long legs, dirty from the hunt he just returned from. Naerys followed closely behind with burning questions.

“Is it true you stole mother from someone father? Because you loved her?” she asked with a glint in her eyes.

“Yes, and that you flew on Vhagar to scare the lords that had her?” Aelar added with unhidden admiration.

Aemond laughed before scooping his son in his arms with a sigh.

“Yes, I might have, but I truly was left with no choice, your mother kept escaping me. And I’ll have you know, byka vīlībāzmio, I don’t need Vhagar to take back the woman I love from wretched low lords.”

“Aemond…” you scolded as he came to your side with a smirk, and you could not help but give him a smile back, blushing.

“I will certainly not apologise for what I have just said,” he added, kissing the top of your hair before taking place on the chair where Aelar had once been, putting him on his laps.

“Can you tell us the story Father? Did you have to fight for mother?” he asked.

“I did, and I would do it again-”

“I think this will be all for this evening,” you interrupted, giving your husband a warning look. “You had your answer, learning why I was called the Stolen Jewel, as it was only a moniker the court gave me at the time. Mystery solved.”

“Your mother is right, you’ve heard enough. And as pretty as she is compared to the most magnificent of gemstones, you’ll refrain yourselves, or anyone to call her like that. Understood?” 

“But I want the whole story! Mother didn’t even finish the book and this is far more interesting, please father? Mother said that you would read to us,” Naerys implored, perfectly aware that if she was to keep both her parents in the room with her under any reason, she could still question you about the Stolen Jewel as much as she liked.

Aemond exchanged a look with you, silently asking if that would be all right. You did promise them after all.

“Very well,” he exhaled with a smile before opening the book you handed him and began to read. 

His soothing voice eased both you and your children in a comfortable state. They even stopped asking questions about who Aemond was betrothed to when he kept calmly dodging all of them, seeing that it was no use. 

Nevertheless, even though you tried to focus on the words that rolled off his tongue, you could not help but sometimes stare as his lips moving softly as he read, or at the way his fingers turned each of the pages with dexterity. The sight took you back in far away times where you two would read to each other under the shade of a column of the Red Keep. You were both children at the time, but it did not prevent you from finding him beautiful, almost unreal as you tried to suppress the feelings you had for the prince back then, perfectly aware that your friend would never marry to a low Westerlands' lady. 

Then you looked at Aelar whose gaze was lost in the void as he listened to his father, comfortable on his laps, and at Naerys, who was rolled into a ball in the chair, as focused on her father’s voice as her brother, both of them calm at last.

“It is all for tonight,” Aemond’s voice came to snap you out of your reveries as he closed the book in a thump after a while.

“No, I want the rest!” complained Aelar as he looked up at his father.

“Can I ride Dreamfyre?” Naerys chimed in instantly.

“No,” both you and Aemond said in unison. “Go to your room to prepare for supper, you are to have dinner with Alicent tonight,” you finished.

“But why can’t we stay with you?”

“Because your grandmother requested to have you all for herself, and you will indulge her.” Aemond answered as he stood up, deposing Aelar on the ground and walking toward the shelves to put the book away.

“Besides, she would be willing to tell you all of the stories you want, I’m sure,” you told them with a malicious glint in your eyes, knowing exactly how to convince them. “She knows a great deal. She was the wife of the King after all.”

Both children looked at each other with delight before embracing you and running out of the room to prepare for supper. As you sighed in satisfaction, you saw Aemond walk close the door behind them while you tidied what your children had left behind.

You felt little guilt at the thought of imposing your godmother to very curious and hungry children, trusting the previous Queen to deal with them with ease.

“Are you to have dinner with me tonight dear wife or do you plan on inviting some Lady I have no care for as company again?”

“I would never. I crave for some alone time with your husband, I have missed you today,” you answered playfully, not looking at him as you put away the broderies of your daughter and lit some candles. Aemond had walked up behind you, waiting for you to finish.

“Hm. How come the subject of your moniker reached the ears of our children exactly? I do not like people talking about you that way still now.”

“They heard it from the guards. Don’t worry, I doubt they will hear more about it,” you said as you came to face him, your height difference making you raise up your head at him. “How was the hunt?”

“Boring,” he answered as he grabbed your waist to pull you closer gently. “What guards?”

“My father’s,” you answered, putting your hands on his shoulder as you started to massage the spot near his collarbone with your thumbs. “Let us get you out of these dirty clothes, shall we?”

A smirk appeared on his lips as he watched you unclasp his shirt, the subject of the nickname he still muttered in your ear when you two were alone deep at night forgotten. He groaned when you left his embrace to take some of his dirty layers away.

“Shall we take you out of yours too?” you heard him ask near your ear as he was quick to follow you near the window, flattening his hands on your belly as he inhaled your scent, his nose trailing along the skin of your neck.

“My clothes are perfectly fine. But I’m not against it,” you answered, feeling a familiar heat emerging inside of your stomach as he kissed the junction at your neck and shoulder. You had to force his hands off your middle in order to turn around.

“You smell wonderful, wife,” he whispered as you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, your fingers finding their way into his hair and his hands pressing against your shoulder blades with soft strokes. When you parted for air, you kept your lips close to his, slowly sliding his eye patch off his left eye. 

“Were you aware that your son thinks Vermithor calls for him?” you asked after you let the leather patch fall on the floor and began tracing a path from his jaw to his neck with your fingers, enjoying his warmth. You could never grow bored of this, every minute with him precious to you.

“Yes,” he replied as he looked at the way your skin was slowly changing shade, turning darker, more delicious. “Why, do you not believe it possible?”

“I wouldn’t know,” you sighed heavily as he lowered his head in order to gently suck at a point below your ear. “Did Vhagar call for you?”

“It is more complicated than that,” he said in a breath that died on the skin of your neck as your fingers traced the muscles of his torso. "I just knew I had to go to her, no matter what.”

“He thinks he ought to go to Dragonstone, to ask Daeron to take him one day. To find him himself,” you explained, feeling his hands take hold of your hips to pull you closer, realising that he had unlaced the back of your dress without your notice while he has kissed you.

“Then he shall,” He claimed, one of his hands coming to stroke the side of your cheek as the other travelled all the way up from your hip to your shoulder, tugging at the fabric of your dress to let it fall off to your waist.

When you met his hungry gaze, dark pupils obscuring the lilac of his eye, you shivered. “If my son wants to have a dragon worthy of his blood, of our blood, then he will.”

“Aemond…” you said as you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his touch, igniting fire on your skin. “I don’t think-”

“Shhh,” he said against your lips as he came to kiss you again, silencing your complaint. “Nothing will happen to him, and he will have what he wants.” he assured, the hand that had been on your shoulder now cupping one of your breasts, pressing lightly. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.” you answered without hesitation, opening your eyes to see his shirt finally come off.

“Do you trust me to protect you from harm?”

“Yes.” you stated again, barely able to refrain a whimper from escaping your lips as his tongue ran from your mouth to your neck, creating a familiar heat between your legs. 

He kissed the line of your jaw with a hum of satisfaction before abruptly taking hold of your waist and yanking you around, fingers coming to wrap around your throat without force.

“And do you feel me?” he said huskily against your ear, the tip of his nose now brushing your jaw from behind. “All of me?”

He had flattened his hand on your stomach to keep you flush against him, and as you breathed together, you could feel his erection pressing at the top of your ass.

“Yes.” you repeated as you tried to turn your head to meet his lips again, desperate to taste them.

“Good,” he growled as he finally pulled you into a kiss, twisting your neck so his tongue could explore your mouth completely. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

Once you began to voice your pleasure with faint moans, Aemond’s struggle grew larger and you felt his hand roam your body at an impatient pace, eager to feel your skin under his palm and pressing your closer against his arousal. When you squirmed against his hips he gently bit the inside of your neck in reaction, and you saw an opportunity to lower your hands between your two bodies and reach for the bulge in his pants, eager to have him in your hands.

“I need you, Aemond,” you pleaded as you palmed his length, your body twisted in an uncomfortable angle so you could look at his flushed cheeks and lusty eyes certainly mirroring yours on his beautiful face, his lips parted in pleasure as you began to stroke him. “Please take me.”

He brought his head back with a blissful grunt before coming back to grope your breasts in his hands and kissing you so you could swallow his own moans. “I would do anything for you, Y/N. Anything. You just have to ask.”

With that he tugged at the remaining layers that had fallen at your waist and when it fell down to the floor in a puddle, you heard his belt falling down as well. You felt him place himself near your entrance as your hand retreated back on the edge of the window in front of you to ground yourself. You would surely have fallen if it wasn’t for his hand strongly holding your stomach.

He slid his member between your slit once, twice, moistening it in your wetness, teasing you, and the third time your strangled moan elicited a laugh from him. You grunted in embarrassment before reaching for his forearm behind you to link you to him, to pull him closer.

“Would you be glad to carry a fourth child for me, wife?” he said, sliding it a fourth time as he buried his face in your neck again, licking the sweet taste of your skin, lifting his head to observe each of your spasms and the way your eyes fluttered as he kept on teasing you. “Would you do that for me? I don’t think I will ever have enough from filling you up.”

His words made you moan despite the aching emptiness you felt inside of you, eager to finally have him fully, but you nodded through it nonetheless, squeezing his forearm for dear life as you could feel his heartbeat in his chest flushed against your back, his mouth nibbling at your ear.

He groaned in satisfaction before trailing his hands down to your hips and finally helping  himself into you. The feeling made you both hiss in a united breath before you found his mouth again to kiss, and you moaned against it when you felt him move.

You heard him curse under his breath as you tried your best to meet his thrusts, all the while sliding in and out of you at a steady pace. His face did not leave the side of yours, looking at you whimpering and knitting your brows together in pleasure as you felt your orgasm creeping on slowly. You knew he was purposely making it last so he could keep on muttering praises into your ear, the look on your face exciting for him as he panted against your skin.

“Come on, that’s it, my love. Moan for me, show me how you belong to me.” He groaned through his own pleasure, his fingers digging at your hips, surely leaving bruises there as he kept you flush against his chest. You angled your body so you could take more of him, whining when you became unable to sustain your position and had to lean forward in order not to crumble.

“I got you,” he whispered gently as he lowered himself with you, his hair falling down over your shoulders as he put a hand on your ribcage to steady you, keeping you from falling.

“Aemond, please…” you pleaded, the noises you were making delicious for his ears, each of them perfectly in rhythm with his movements, telling him exactly what to do.

“I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer…”

As he said that his other hand came to press around your throat gently as his hips began to pound into you at a faster pace, and you had to bite your lips to sustain the aching pleasure that his thickness created inside your core, and you both panted as you felt his ragged breaths on you, sucking and kissing your neck.

“Let it go, all for me. Come on, my love.”

A hand came to play with one of your breasts as he tightened his grip around your throat, and it became too much. Several back and forth movements against your sweet spot and you stopped breathing, waves of pleasure taking hold of you as a strangled moan left your lips, instantly swallowed by Aemond who turned your head to meet your mouth hungrily.

Your walls clenched around him and several moments later you felt his release spill inside of you, and it was your turn to catch his lips in order to kiss him as you moved against him through his bliss to make it last as you slowly came down from your own.

When you both stopped moving, panting and sweating, you angled yourself so you could kiss his exhausted state again, from his temple to his jaw that was resting against your shoulder, and when he slid out of you to let you turn around with a hiss, you busied yourself in kissing the length of his neck like it was the only thing preventing your wobbly legs from falling apart.

“Already exhausted, husband?” you taunted against his skin, and he let out a chuckle.

“Never.”

His sly and slightly fatigued smile made you pause and you laughed in turn. He caressed your shoulders and slid his hands down your arms before lowering himself on his knees and kissing his way down to your stomach, stopping there.

“Were you honest? About another child?” he asked, eye hopeful as he let go of your hands to flatten his on your belly under your confused gaze.

“I would have all of the children you want, Aemond, I will never stop loving what is ours,” you assured, your brows slightly furrowed.”Why?”

He rested his nose against your stomach in hesitation as you passed your finger through his hair. He looked up at you, expression unsure now.

“I know how dangerous and unpredictable delivering a child can be. As much as I would love to have all of the children you can give me, I could not bear to lose you. To live without you after it. It's important to me that you know that, regardless of what I ask.” 

This thoughts had often clouded his mind during the years you gave him a family of his own, but the truth was that if he was to lose you because of that, he would be unable to take revenge on anyone, because he would blame himself.

You felt his arms wrap around your hips as you looked down at him pressing his lips on your stomach with affection.

“I know the first pregnancy has not been easy, that you even feared for me. But the ones after that were fine, and I trust that they all will be. Although I admit I do not enjoy being with child every day that the gods make, it is nothing compared to the joy I feel when I meet the eyes that we brought to the world, and the happiness in yours.”

You felt him smile against your skin and you gave in the urge to lift his chin up with your fingers. He followed it and stood up, kissing you gently.

“My wonderful wife.”

Took the liberty to reinstitute the original tag-list. (Bonus chapter here)

@let-love-bleedsred @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie@ephemeralninon@mrswhitethornbelikov@dudfahsn@missusnora@queenofterrasen418@honeytrapsblogp-graham@heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88@ivartheblessed@xceafh@bubbletae7@omgkatherine97@tzipora-art@signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs@bietchz@samnblack@mariaelizabeth21-blog1@projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal@polireader@zillahvathek@moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749@claudie-080102@ebaylee422@hydrationqueensworld@crumblychunksofheaven@officiallyunofficialperson @grungegrrrl @stargaryenx

[witchlingcirce]

Imagine ur Helaena Targaryen and ur just tryna chill and your anime villain brother tells you to lock the fuck in for war

[hauntedfictionland]

You're serving cunt? There's a war going on and you're serving cunt?

Gif: @hoosbandewan, @peachysunrize

[prideprejudce]

also love the fact that the writers made it clear that aemond now realizes that his story of claiming vhagar doesn't make him the special snowflake targaryen of the world like he thinks it did. you know that he's been thinking for years that he has some prophesied greatness for being able to claim a big war dragon on his own and has been using that to inflate his own ego. and then here comes addam, some lowborn boat man who was hand-picked by a war dragon, and now there's another random guy flying over the castle on a dragon. literally everyone gets a dragon you get a dragon i get a dragon the silversmith down the street gets a dragon. and you know that's going to drive aemond NUTS

[ophelieverse]

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

alicent, aemond and helaena in the season finale.

credits for this art drawing to @paiges_of_art

[alysrivers-xo]

YOUR BROTHER IS HALF DEAD AND YOU’RE SERVING FACE?!??!??!!?!