#Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!reader

[sommornyte]

‘ 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴… ’

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 & 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐈

(Kinda inspired by this post)

[sophiemariepl]

Idk how much truth there is to that statement but this idea lives rent-free in my head 😂🙈

[damn-stark]

Part 7 The family reunion

Part 7 of The Lion and The Dragon

A/N- True Lannister colors show in this chapter ;)

Warning- Violence, blood, talks of pregnancy and birth, fluff, Aegon, forced marriage, swearing, suggested sexual content.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x fem!Lannister reader

Episode- 1x08

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*1 YEAR LATER*

“We have continued to enjoy improved custom duties since the settling of the stepstones,” Lyman Beesbury shares with the group. “And extent to which we exploit those is contingent on the harbor master’s receipts of which um, uh…”

You tune the old Lord out and begin to twist the ring Daeron gave you around your finger. You begin to space out and wish you could be out with Aemond doing anything else, or out with the baby; even if the baby does nothing much but cry to be with Aemond. At least it’d be far more entertaining than hearing this council.

“Thank you,” Alicent cuts off the old Lord, letting you focus back. “For that exhaustive accounting Lord Beesbury, I remind you—”

The door opens and Alicent pauses to focus on Ser Harrold walking in to give his announcement. “Your guests have arrived. Your Grace.”

You lower your gaze and listen to Lord Otto Hightower interject. “I trust they’ve been welcomed as befits their station.”

Even greeting Princess Rhaenyra and her family would’ve been more pleasant than serving wine in this dull meeting. No matter how informed you liked to be, none of what was discussed today was at all worth it.

“As you instructed, Lord Hand,” Ser Harrold says before he bows and walks out of the room, leaving the room with a bit more interest to be discussed.

“It was my understanding Lord Corlys wished for his grandson Lucerys to succeed him as Lord of the Tides.” Grand Maester Orwyle adds, piquing your interest since, well, everyone in this room knows why that should be a problem.

No one could actually say it, but you all knew the obvious reason.

“The boy has been raised most of his life away from Driftmark,” your uncle Tyland adds his opinion. “He can fly a dragon, yes, but can he command a fleet?”

Most likely not. As you’ve told Aemond and your uncle in one of your many gossip conversations, the Princess has babied her sons too much. They should be out learning rather than making things more suspicious by hiding them away like ladies.

“Ability does not alter claim,” Lord Beesbury says.

You sigh and share a quick look with your uncle before you grab the jug of wine and walk over to serve him as another Lord adds to the comment.

“The Seasnake has never formally named him as heir if it comes to that.”

You pull the jug away and walk back to your spot to continue listening more intently now.

“The crown must choose what is best for the realm,” the Lord Hand interjects.

“He is Laenor’s son,” Lord Beesbury argues. “What grounds could there be—”

“What indeed Lord Beesbury,” a Lord cuts the old man off. “What indeed.”

You glance at him and think about his insinuation and smirk to yourself.

“We shall hear Princess Rhaenyra’s petition along with those of the other claimants on the morrow,” Alicent adds to cut off the conversation that wouldn’t end well.

“But—”

Alicent begins to stand up and you straighten up to follow—“I do beg your pardon my lords, I must greet our guests,” she excuses herself, and as she walks out the Lords stand up, and you follow her, making sure to pat your uncle's shoulder.

He pats your hand on your way out, and you offer him a soft smile before pulling away and leaving the room. You want to say something off topic to Alicent but then Ser Erryk joins the Queen's side.

“A matter has arisen that requires your attention,” he shares.

“Whatever it is, Ser Arryk, it'll need to wait,” Alicent says, and you catch her mistake right away.

“I’m Erryk, your Grace,” the Knight corrects her.

“Of course. My apologies, Ser.”

“It’s about the Prince,” he quickly shares, making you slightly narrow your gaze. “There’s been a delicate situation in his apartments.”

Alicent finally comes to a stop, letting you all finally stop. She stays quiet and then glances over at you. “Y/N, you may take your leave. I need to figure this out.”

The plan was to greet the Princess and the Prince with her, but this new problem leaves no room to argue.

“You don’t wish for me to greet the Princess and her husband in your stead?” You ask.

Alicent shakes her head and sighs. “No, it’s quite alright, I’ll greet them after. Thank you.”

You offer her a smile before you head to your room now to change out of your dress and wear something more practical for training.

The moment you’re outside you see Aemond’s silver hair stand out first before anything else comes to view. He’s training with Ser Criston Cole, and a group of people watch them. When some of the women notice you they whisper to each other before parting away from the circle, leaving you a spot to watch as your husband deflects each swing with swiftness.

You hadn’t even noticed that Aemond had already seen you since the moment you walked out of the castle, so it’s a surprise when he calls you out as he has his back turned.

“Come to train, my love?”

You smile and watch as he turns away from Ser Criston to face you with a small smile.

You nod and wait for him to reach you. “Perhaps just one match. If it pleases you.”

Aemond smirks and leans down to steal a kiss from your lips before he caresses your jaw. “How was it?” He asks as he stays close.

You sigh dramatically. “Incredibly dull, Lord Beesbury has a way to lull you to sleep with his words. But, on more interesting news” you begin to smirk. “Your sister is here already.”

Aemond hums. “Is she? I forget about her in truth. I thought you were going to greet them with my mother.”

You nod. “I was but she went to deal with your brother first, so she let me go, and I came here.”

His smirk widens and he pulls away to walk with you to the racks. You immediately pick up a sword and a shield before facing him.

“I swear I’ll go easy,” you tease. “But I can’t promise I’ll let you win.”

Aemond snickers. “Wouldn’t wish it.”

You keep your eyes on him as you slowly walk past him, seeing him watch you the entire time with interest. He doesn’t even drop your gaze when he walks over to join you, you hold each other's gaze the entire time; as you fix your stance, as you begin to pace around him like a lion stalking its prey.

You hadn’t even noticed Ser Erwin join the crowd as he was finished sparring with Ser Arryk. All you focused on was Aemond, it let you catch his lunge in time to deflect it.

His smirk deepens at the action and he tries to catch you off guard by pretending to swing and instead deciding to slide forward to jab you, but you quickly use your shield and block him before pushing him back and dropping your sword to pull out your dagger. Just as you were going to point at his throat though, he pulls out a dagger himself and you both end up pointing at each other at the same time.

“Smart,” he compliments you.

You scoff and shake your head. “Not smart enough.” You sheath your dagger and pick up your sword again.

This time you throw your shield aside and attack first, but he quickly parrys and hits your hand with the bottom of his sword to unarm you.

Yet before he can do anything else, you kick him back. He chuckles and strides over to swing, but you quickly throw your head back and let the blade swing past your face. When you stand up straight you shoot him a smirk before spinning around to face him again on opposite sides.

Aemond holds your gaze and licks his lips before he strides over to lunge. You avoid his action and pull out a dagger, he catches your action albeit and picks up your sword off the ground to then watch you as you watch him.

A second passes before he grows impatient and flips the swords around to then swing down. You avert his action, but right away he kicks your knee before trying to jab your side. You falter but still try to avoid his action, yet he then uses the other sword to disarm you before quickly grabbing your wrist to spin you around and press you against his chest, and point his sword at your throat.

“Have you fallen behind, my love?” He teases against your ear.

You’re annoyed that he manages to win, but you can’t help but smile as you feel him, and hear his voice close by your ear.

“I’ve been pregnant,” you excuse your loss even if you’ve already returned to train three months ago.

Aemond scoffs. “And you trained for half of those nine months.”

You look up and barely catch a glimpse of his blue eye. “What can I say then?” You offer him a smirk and just hold his gaze until you push his arm off to pull away.

“Another round?” Aemond asks.

You sigh and take your sword from him as you shake your head. “I’ll watch for a few more minutes, maybe I’ll even spar the loser?”

He hums in agreement and doesn’t argue against you, so you return your sword to the racks and Aemond follows.

“Tell me now who you see behind us.” He asks.

You blink and discreetly glance over your shoulder, noticing two cloaked young boys, or so it seems by their stature. Yet you can’t see their faces since they have their backs turned.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Their backs are turned.”

Aemond smirks and meets your gaze. “Pay close attention.” He departs from the racks and returns to the circle to rematch against Ser Criston.

While you slowly rejoin the crowd, you keep an eye on the dark haired boys. Ser Erwin joins your side and follows your line of gaze.

“Who are they?” You ask.

Your Knight shrugs. “I don’t know, my Lady. They just walked in.”

You hum and look back at Aemond as he blocks Ser Criston’s swing. It’s in the moment that you pulled your eyes away from the boys that they actually joined the crowd—you can see them watching your husband carefully and with awe.

They don’t notice your stare, or the Knights beside you. Their obliviousness is what lets you study them, their young face, and thinner and shorter stature; their short and dark hair, and their pale face. They have on darker cloaks, gray with a very faint dark shade of blue. They stand out compared to the others gawking, it’s weird but that’s when it finally hits you, who they are; Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

Hmm.

When you heard that they didn’t look like they’re father you never actually imagined it’d be so obvious that they were…bastards. You always thought that it was an exaggeration, that people were being dramatic and hateful perhaps, but now as you see them with your own eyes it’s so obvious that they’re not Leanor Velaryon sons.

And it’s not their complexion that gives them away, but the lack of silver-white hair. Both Rhaenyra and Leanor have sliver-white hair after all, it’s a trait from their bloodline, something both boys should’ve gotten based on genetics. That’s the difference that makes it the most obvious. It’s what makes Lucerys claim laughable, they’re not fooling anyone. No matter how hard they try to argue for it, or the King's ignorance.

Regardless, you still approach them as they continue to watch Aemond and Ser Criston. You keep your own gaze on your husband even if your attention is on the boys.

“Great isn’t he?” You chime in and gain the youngest boy's attention. “Even for a man with one eye.” You smirk.

The boy next to you, the one you assume is Jacaerys, finally glances at you, but he doesn’t get to say anything since Aemond interrupts. “Nephews…” he puts his sword down and looks at them. “Have you come to train?”

Before Jacaerys can answer, an announcer interrupts. “Open the gates!”

Everyone’s attention goes to the gates to watch as they open and welcome in Velaryon bannermen, before the Lord Vaemond Velayron follows suit.

It’s not until he’s gone past the big doors that you notice Aemond behind you.

“Nephews,” he greets both boys. “You’ve met my wife I see. The Lady y/n Lannister.” He glances at you. “My love, these are my nephews Jacaerys…”

The Princess’s heir.

“…and Lucerys.”

The boy who took out Aemond’s eye.

You glance at Aemond as he falls at your side and then at the boys. “It’s honor,” you curtsy. “My Princes.”

“Likewise, my Lady,” Jacaerys says. “I would just like to say that it’s quite impressive seeing you wield a sword. I’ve never seen a woman actually use it in public as bravely as you.”

You scoff in amusement. “Thank you, but trust me it has not been so easy, or without judgment. Aemond helps though.” You smile and blink to look at Lucerys standing behind his brother without adding anything, he just keeps glancing at Aemond, at the patch over his eye socket.

Now that you look at him, as he stands there in front of you, you wonder how someone so innocent and sweet looking could do what he did? By appearances it just doesn't seem like he could even if he did.

“I hope,” you continue and look away. “We get to know each other more before your leave back to Dragonstone. I’d love to hear about Aemond when he was young.”

“We shall,” Jacaerys agrees. “And maybe we can spar soon as well.”

You grin and nod. “Yes, that would be great. Anyway,” you sigh. “I’ll leave you boys, I need to go see my baby.” You smirk and take one last look at the guys before breaking away from the group. And just as you think you’ll go alone, Aemond follows.

“You see it?” He asks in a whisper as you approach the stairs.

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eyes and nod. “I see it. It’s a bit too obvious.”

Aemond hums in agreement and you both take one last look at both boys.

——

*A COUPLE MONTHS AGO*

Pain, cramps, and more pain is all that’s felt, it’s overwhelming, loud, and blinding every few minutes. It’s annoying too, irritating.

Sweat damps your skin and makes your clothes stick onto your body. A nauseating smell infiltrates your nose, something that’s supposed to calm you down only pisses you off more; just like Aemond’s never ending pacing that seems to sound loud in your ears.

“Stop,” you mutter. “Nothing is going to change with you pacing like that.”

Aemond comes to a halt and sighs deeply. “If it comes to it,” he says and turns around to face you. “I’ll choose you. I won’t hesitate.”

You swallow thickly and meet his gaze, catching no sign of dishonesty in his eye. He actually looks slightly frightened, nervous (obviously), but not dishonest.

“I’ll pick you,” he repeats himself.

It may be cruel to admit but you find it comforting that he says that. Yet a part of you doubts him if the baby turns out to be a male. An heir.

“Come,” you demand and pat the empty side beside you.

Aemond sighs and approaches you but he doesn’t sit, he stays standing and keeps looking at you as if he could feel your pain, as if it hurt him too.

“And if it’s a boy?” You ask out of curiosity.

Aemond slightly narrows his gaze as if your question offended him, and scoffs. “Do you really expect me to love that baby if it takes you away from me?” He retorts and crouches down by your bedside. “Boy or girl I don’t care, I will pick you.” He grabs your hand and presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “You're mine. It will always be you. To the end of my days.”

Your heart flutters and a smile manages to grow on your lips. “I won’t let the baby take me then.” You assure him before you reach for his cheek to gently begin to caress it. “But swear to me when the baby is here you’ll let them see you without the eyepatch. They’ll see you as you are.”

Aemond nods, and you begin to grin, but instantly lose all your amusement as another wave of pain slams into you. This time instead of walking off to pace, Aemond stays beside you. Even as the pain becomes more consistent he stays by your side and doesn’t let your hand go.

He stays, but, the moment the baby comes out and the first cry breaks the silence born out of fear they wouldn’t be alive, he lets you go and stands up to watch as the midwives wrap up the tiny baby.

He stares at them in disbelief even as they walk over to him with the little bundle.

“It’s a girl,” one of the midwives announces and makes you grin and laugh softly—“You wish to hold her?” She asks Aemond.

Aemond keeps his eye on the baby and swallows thickly before he slowly puts out his hands to receive the baby in his arms.

The moment the midwife steps away and lets Aemond hold her, he glances at you with that same disbelief, before looking back at the baby and lifting one hand to slowly pull off his eyepatch and reveal the sapphire hidden under it. He then proceeds to carefully use his thumb to caress her cheek before slowly grinning down at her.

“Visenya,” he whispers softly. “Such a fitting name for my little delight.” He glances at you and his grin deepens before he slowly crouches down to hand her to you.

Once you have her in your arms. As you see her, her perfect little face and her beautiful silver-white hair, you can’t help but beam at her as tears stream down your eyes.

“She’s perfect,” you cry out of happiness.

Aemond finally sits beside you and watches you hold little Visenya in awe. You look up at him and meet his gaze to share your smile, and he leans in and presses a kiss on the side of your head.

——

…it would be a pleasure to meet my grandchild, Visenya, as soon as we can and it is convenient for you, my daughter.

Your father, Jason Lannister.

You sigh and lower the letter to your lap, letting the little four month old baby come to view.

All throughout the nine months your father knew about your pregnancy he only sent about two letters and showed little interest. Now after four months of being born he only seems so excited because of what was born to little Visenya a month ago, her little scaled and winged companion. Can’t he be anymore obvious.

“Why do you think your grandsire wants to meet you, hm?” You ask the little baby too preoccupied with the wooden lion Ser Erwin had gifted you a year ago. “Is it because he suddenly does care, or because he wants to meet little…moonlight?” You glance at the little baby dragon sleeping beside Visenya and stare at for a second before shaking your head. “That doesn’t sound right. Any ideas, little delight?”

The baby giggles at her little lion and doesn’t even bother to look at you, so you sit back and admire the dark purple dragon balled up by Visenya’s head—at night he appears black like the night sky, but when the moonlight or the sun kisses his scales, they gleam a very dark purple. When he flaps his wings and stretches them out his membrane is black. He’s elegant, majestic, and so very sweet to little Visenya, very protective at such a young age too. He deserves a mighty name.

“What do you think Helaena?” You ask and look over at your goodsister.

However, Helaena is focused on the flower she’s holding and mumbles, “there is a beast beneath the boards.”

She’s said that multiple times already, sometimes she tells you directly, but other times she just mumbles it to herself. You still can’t find the meaning behind it though. Aemond and Alicent say not to worry, but there must be a reason why she keeps saying it. You just don’t know yet.

“What about you Ser Erwin?” You ask your Knight as he stands a few feet away from the patch of grass you were resting on.

The Knight looks over at you at the sound of his name and then hums to hear the question again.

“A name for Visenya’s dragon? I can’t think of one.” You share.

Ser Erwin glances at the dragon and sighs deeply before he shrugs and chuckles softly. “Maybe Storm?”

You smile sweetly and nod. “I’ll take it under consideration, thank you.” You look back at your baby and grin. “Visenya really loves the lion, you know,” you continue to tell him. “The one you gifted me.”

Ser Erwin meets your gaze and smiles. “Does she?”

You nod. “Yes, she does. Ser Robert sent her a little dragon and a little cat doll, but she prefers my wooden lion.” You grin at him and he holds your gaze until you look back at Visenya.

He albeit lets his eyes linger on you, he watches as you begin to play peek a boo with the baby to make her laugh. He sees your smiles, he admires it until the sound of a nearby voice snaps his attention away.

“Lady y/n. Princess.”

You look up at the sound of your name and see Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena walking over, so Helaena and you stand up to greet them.

“Lady Baela,” you curtsy at the girl you saw once a few months ago.

“Lady Rhaena.” She’s the only one you haven't met since she has been in Dragonstone, but as far as appearances go she wasn’t identical to Baela. Unlike her sister, her hair wasn’t loose, it was twisted into locs. Her face appeared to be kinder than her sisters which appeared to be intimidating in ways. They were both very beautiful though. Majestic just like every other person with Valyrian blood.

Regardless, Helaena greets them too and the Targaryen twins offer you both genuine smiles.

“It is a pleasure seeing the both of you out in the gardens,” you say and mean it. As far as resentment for the past, you held none against them since it was not your business, especially since they are not the ones that blinded Aemond.

Actually you quite liked Lady Baela. She was very kind and you had much in common the last time you met. Sure she did not stay for too long, and not much was brought up about the past last time, but you did end up talking to each other for a few hours; you laughed, gossiped and talked some more. It was nice, refreshing having someone to actually talk to. All the other girls you are friends with work here for you, so it doesn’t feel as genuine some of the times, but with Baela it felt great to laugh with her because she actually meant it.

And maybe talking to her reminded you of Nyra, the relationship you miss. Helaena is sweet, she’s funny when she can be, but that bond you had with Nyra was different, and that night with Baela felt like being with her again.

“Please join us. We were just taking in the sun.”

Both girls don’t question your invitation and sit on the blanket you had spread over the grass.

“Thank you,” Rhaena says once she’s sat.

“I had the intention to go greet the both of you sooner, but I lost track of time,” you admit and look down at Visenya. “Sorry.”

Lady Rhaena shakes her head gently and assures you. “It’s alright, we understand, I hope we can speak now, if that’s alright.”

You nod. “Yes, it is, Visenya just ate, so she should be content for a while longer.”

“Visenya,” Baela says with a soft smile. “That’s the babes name? I thought it was going to be—”

“No,” you cut her off with a smile. “We do not talk about that. I was clearly not thinking straight that night.”

Baela smirks at you before she snickers

“Anyway, yes, this is my little Visenya.” You reach over for the baby to carry her in your arms. You brush her little silver hair out of her eyes, and that’s when both girls narrow their eyes to try and take a better look as they’re both caught off guard by Visenya’s eyes.

“Are her eyes…” Baela mutters and then lifts her gaze to meet yours. “Are her eyes violet?”

You smile over at Visenya and nod. “Yes. The Maester says it is a defect that must have happened when she was in the womb, but, I would rather agree with Aemond and say that it is a blessing from the gods.”

“It truly is,” Rhaena says sweetly. “Can she see?”

You nod. “Yes she can. Her eyes work fine, it’s just the color that’s unique.”

“May I hold her?” Baela asks.

Without hesitance you hand her the baby, and right away as if somehow someone alerted the dragon, Visenya’s dragon wakes up and immediately watches Baela as she holds Visenya. He stays put and doesn’t keep his eyes off her.

“Such a fitting name for a little warrior,” Baela tells the baby, and Visenya just keeps holding her lion.

“I hope the Red Keep has been kind,” Helaena says. “I know it’s your first time here Rhaena, it must be a bit overwhelming.”

Said girl nods. “Yes it is, but the Red Keep has been kind, Princess Rhaenyra has been very kind and shown me what she can.”

“That’s good. And the garden? Do you like it?” Helaena asks.

Rhaena nods. “Yes they’re quite beautiful.”

You nod in agreement and then look over at Baela. “Have you told your father yet?”

Baela eyes land on you and she lowers the baby to let her sit on her lap. “No,” she admits. “There has not been the right time. I just saw him actually after a long time.”

You begin to fiddle with the grass and scoff softly. “You know I told you already that I doubt your father would care. He might even teach you.”

Rhaena looks between the both of you in confusion before she asks her question. “Ask father what?”

Baela sighs. “How to wield a sword. I want him to teach me the way Aemond teaches y/n.”

You smirk and look between the both of them, noticing Rhaena looks quite shocked but not upset, just surprised.

“And you know, if anyone has shit to say, simply eat them with your dragon.” You share lightheartedly. “Fear me people for I am a dragon goddess. That’s what you all say.” You giggle and throw your hands out, and Baela smirks and rolls her eyes as she tries not to laugh, whilst Helaena and Rhaena laugh at your comment.

“Hey,” you keep saying. “Maybe ask Prince Jacaerys,” you tease. “Have him teach you how to wield a sword, and have him press you against his chest.” You grin. “That’s how I wooed my lover. Sword fighting.”

Rhaena nudges Baela, and Baela just scoffs. The conversation continues between the four of you, you all get along very well, you end up sharing tips on married life, and tips on motherhood. You share jokes and laugh at them, you get along under the sun, and it was truly a pleasure.

As much as you love Aemond’s company, he’s not a girl, he doesn’t understand a lot of things you deal with. They do though, all of them and it feels nice bonding over that. Besides, Rhaena and Baela had names ideas for the baby dragon since you were stuck. That was also a very good win.

Regardless, now that you were all heading back inside the castle all together, there Aemond was, leaning against the gates frame, watching and waiting. Not like it matters, it makes you happy, so you excuse yourself and hand the dragonkeeper the baby dragon before you rush over to Aemond with Visenya in your arms.

“Aemond,” you greet with a beaming grin.

Aemond pushes himself off the gates frame and meets your gaze with a smirk. Once you reach him he grabs your cheek and you share a deep kiss.

“How are my girls?” He asks quietly so no one could hear him.

“Good, ready to head inside and take a nap.” You answer and look at Visenya.

Aemond hums and then focuses on Visenya, he smiles softly whilst the baby begins to kick her feet and smile as she sees her father.

“My little delight,” he says and takes her from you since that’s what the baby wanted.

“Okay,” you sigh as you both begin walking inside together. “I thought of some names. Storm, Volos, Nightwing, Eris, Nyx, or…that’s it.” You huff.

Aemond hums and glances at you before glancing at the baby. “Why not let her choose when she gets older?”

You look over at him and hesitate before you nod. “That would work too.”

He hums.

You smile and sigh with relief. “Thank you, now I can stop stressing about it.” And just as you were going to mention your fathers letter, just as you walk inside you run into Aegon.

“Brother,” he says as if relieved. “There you are.” He looks over and smirks. “My sweet goodsister. And my favorite niece.” He meets his brother halfway and gets in between Aemond and you.

“What do you want, Aegon?” Aemond deadpans.

“Or is that you have finally made something of your day,” you quip and earn a snicker from Aegon— “Besides drinking?”

“Not quite,” he retorts and then grabs his brothers shoulder to lower his voice. “I have come to ask Aemond something, and y/n if you want to get in this you are welcome to.”

Aemond sighs and you answer for him. “What is it?”

“As we all know, Aemond our sister is here, along with her are her sons, Jace and Luke, what are we going to do about that?”

Aemond and you share a passing glance before you both look at Aegon.

“Nothing Aegon;” you turn him down. “You are not going to do anything. Need I remind you your age? Or the fact that they are here for business. Meaning you need to be on your best behavior.”

Aegon yawns and rolls his eyes. “What a bore that is. You sound like Aemond. No fun whatsoever.”

You scoff. “I can be fun, my fun albeit, doesn’t involve tormenting little boys anymore.”

“Anymore?” Aegon probes with a half grin and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Please pray tell.”

You glance at him and shrug. “When I was young, little boys were all a bunch of stuck up shits that liked to push me and some girls around, so I taught them a thing or two.” You smirk. “Let’s just say they never messed with me again.”

Aemond snickers and Aegon smiles proudly.

“So tell me. What was it?” Aegon asks.

You shake your head and push him away. “Nothing. Because we are not to mess with the boys.”

Aegon sighs deeply and drags his feet. “Okay, maybe verbal torment?”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “No. Just stick with maybe…discreet verbal jabs?”

Aegon shoots you a grin and nods in agreement. “See, I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He claps his hands and begins to walk away from Aemond and you. “Thank you. I will keep it in mind.”

You offer him a partial wave and when he’s out of sight Aemond and you just sigh.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

There were murmurs heard about the throne room, all conversations kept between one another as you all waited for The Hand to start the petition on behalf of Princess Rhaenyra, and Lord Vaemon.

“He did what?” You ask Aemond in a low whisper so those around you wouldn’t hear.

“My mother didn’t tell you?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. She dismissed me yesterday but didn’t tell me the reason. Now it makes sense…” you pause and you both glance at Aegon since it’s him who you were talking about, what he did to one of the serving girls.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask Aemond as you focus back on him.

Aemond meets your gaze. “I only just found out as well,” he shares.

You hum in comprehension and steal one last piercing glare at Aegon.

As far as he goes, he’s not your favorite brother whatsoever, he was nice to you, sure, he treats you like a sibling does, but well…it’s hard to really tolerate him when he does stuff like that to girls.

That’s why Daeron is the better brother. Not only because he’s been keeping in touch with you since he sent his first letter, but because he's simply better.

“And Helaena?” You ask. “Does she know?”

Aemond shakes his head. “No. Mother says it’s best if she does not know, so please do not mention it.”

You sigh and nod. “Of course. It’s just…it’s just sad you know. She’s always been kind to me and to keep things from her.” You sigh deeply again. “I mean I would want someone to tell me.”

Aemond grabs your chin and slightly tilts his head. “I understand, but my sister is sensitive, she’s not like you, it's best if she’s kept in the dark about it.”

You nod hesitantly. “Right,” you agree. “And you,” you begin to tease him. “Would you want me kept in the dark?”

Aemond begins to smirk. “Well, I would never do that, I respect and love you too much.”

You smile and grab his hand. “But if you did?” You insist.

He leans in to whisper in your ear. “Oh I am sure you would figure it out. You and your little birds.”

You smirk and begin to fiddle with the small shard of dragon glass that dangles from the sapphire on your necklace. “That’s right I would. And then I would cut your balls off.”

Aemond chuckles. “Are you threatening me, my love?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m warning you.” You grin mischievously, and Aemond pulls back to steal a kiss.

“<That’s my girl.>” He murmurs in High Valyrian against your lips.

You grab his arm and hold his gaze to share an enamored gaze.

“Aemond,” his mother calls. “Y/N.”

You pull away right away and Aemond lingers by you before you both walk to your spots by the family to begin hearing the petition.

“Though it is the great hope of this court Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds,” Lord Otto speaks as he begins to slowly sit down on the Iron Throne. “We gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” The Lord Hand finally sits down and continues. “The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and watch as the Lord steps to the front of the audience to speak. “My Queen. My Lord Hand. The History of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms, in the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to the new land, knowing that were they to fall it would mean the end to their bloodlines and name.”

You drop your gaze and mess with your lion ring before putting your hands behind you and looking up. That’s when you catch the gaze of another Targaryen man, same Silver-white hair, same piercing gaze, and same majestic beauty they all seem to have; Prince Daemon Targaryen. Baela’s father.

His eyes meet yours from across the Throne room, he holds your gaze for a moment, and you hold his out of curiosity and confusion before the corner of his lips twitch up and he looks away.

If Nyra were here now and she saw, she’d freak out, saying complete stupid things as she swooned for you. Whilst you’d be confused as you are now. It’s just, why did he smirk?

Did he find it funny that you were standing amongst the family? Because if so you could also point out that Princess Rhaenyra’s sons are clearly bastards, it’s as plain as day, especially since it was said that her late husband preferred the company of men. They are not fooling anyone.

Regardless, you still are curious as to why the Prince would even glance at you.

“….The true, impeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins,” you hear Ser Vaemond say as you focus back on him.

“As it does in my sons the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Princess Rhaenyra interjects. “If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition—”

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Alicent cuts her off. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

Said man looks at the Princess, but she immediately looks away the moment he turns.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood Princess?” Ser Vaemond asks her rhetorically. “I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” He turns away from the Princess now and continues.

You proceed to let your hands go and inch closer to Aemond. When your shoulder brushes his arm he glances down at you and meets your gaze for a brief second before he offers you a faint smirk. He then drops his hands clasped behind him to let his fingers hook around yours.

“This is a matter of blood, not ambition.” You listen to Ser Vaemond say as you look over at him again—“I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brothers successor. The Lord of Driftmark and the Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond,” The Lord Hand says, letting the man walk back to his previous spot so the Princess could say her petition now—“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velayron.”

The Princess walks to the front of the audience and begins. “If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago. In this very—” she stops as the doors begin to open, pulling everyone's attention to the end of the room to see the King slowly making his way in.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen,” a Knight announces. “The first of his name….”

Your eyes widen in shock to what you see, and it feels as if the room even stands at standstill.

“…King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!”

The King slowly begins to make his way down the steps, keeping at his own pace as he steps down on the floor since he’s writhing in pain with each step he takes. Once he reaches the steps that lead to the throne, Knights rush over to help him, but he refuses and sends them away.

It’s an admiring act, but when he begins to climb the stairs his crown falls off his head. You look over at Aemond when it does, and he simply just meets your gaze and stays there before you both look over and see Prince Daemon helping the King sit on this throne before placing his crown back on.

When the prince returns to his spot, the King addresses the audience. “I must…admit…my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corly’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

Everyone glances over at her, and she interjects. “Indeed.” She proceeds to step up and continues. “It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son…Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys granddaughters. Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

You smile for the girls and reach for Aemond’s hand as he clasps them behind him again. When he feels your touch he secures his hold around your hand and doesn’t let your hand go.

“Well…the matter is settled,” the King says. “Again. I hearby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velayron as heir to Driftmark. The Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.” He wheezes and the matter should’ve been left alone now, but Ser Vaemond cuts in angirly.

“You break law, and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir..”

You roll your eyes at that argument.

“…yet you dare tell me…who deserves to inherit the name Velayron. No,” he mutters. “I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” The King retorts. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

Ser Vaemond suddenly shifts around to point at Lucerys. “That is no true Velayron,” he shouts, making you move your hand to grab Aemond’s arm—“Certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Go to your chambers,” Princess Rhaenyra tells her children before returning to adress Ser Vaemond. “You have said enough.”

“Lucerys is my true born grandson,” the King clarifies. “And you…no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

You scoff in amusement.

“You,” Ser Vaemond argues. “May run your house as you see fit…but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom. And a thousand years of tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this…” he pauses and turns his head.

“Her children…are bastards!” He bellows, making the King stand up, and making Aemond begin to smirk—“And she…is…a whore.”

You gasp softly in surprise simply over the fact that he would dare say that in front of the King.

“I,” the King groans and pulls out his dagger. “Will have your tongue for that.”

Yet before he could even try to go down the stairs suddenly the sound of a metal hitting against flesh fills the room, gasps follow, and Aemond suddenly pushes you back and keeps one arm on you. When you look over at where the commotion comes from you're shocked to see part of Ser Vaemond’s head falling to the ground.

“He can keep his tongue,” Prince Aemond quips as he puts his sword down.

“Disarm him!” The Knights yell, but the Prince just assures them and cleans his swords as he steps back, letting you finally take in what happened, and ending up slowly smirking as you think of what Prince Daemon just did in defense of his wife and her son.

It was admirable, and well…very fucking impressive. He was impressive.

However, as everyone was focusing on what had happened, the King falls back to his chair, causing Alicent to rush over to help him.

The Maesters and the Knights then rush over to help him out too, whilst you walk over to Helaena’s side as she keeps her ears plugged after the incident with Ser Vaemond ensued.

“It’s okay,” you mutter and grab her arm.

Helaena keeps her ears plugged but looks over at you. You proceed to offer her a soft smile and turn her away from the dead body bleeding out on the ground.

“Let’s get out of here, yes?” You tell her softly.

Helaena nods and lets you walk her out. She lets you walk her through some halls, out to the gardens and finally to the library where she finally feels calm after the walk.

“Now, we will leave to go get ready for dinner, okay?” You say.

Helaena offers you a small smile and nods in agreement.

“But first,” she interjects. “Can you stay and wait for me? I want to get a book from here first.”

You nod without hesitance and stay back to wait for her where you are.

When you lose her figure throughout the rows of bookcases you turn to go sit, but end up catching Prince Daemon wandering closeby.

He notices you right away—or finally catches you alone and meets your gaze with a partial smile before he chooses to approach you.

“Lady Lannister,” he greets.

The walk must’ve been longer than you thought if he’s already here all by himself.

“Prince Daemon,” you greet in return and curtsy.

Prince Daemon stops a couple feet away and keeps that same partial smile on his face as he clasps his hands in front of him. “It’s an honor finally getting to meet you,” he surprises you by saying.

You giggle and shake your head as you drop your eyes.

“What?” He retorts seriously. “What’s so funny? I heard that the Lady Lannister has more balls than her twin fathers combined.”

You scoff in amusement and glance up at him, noticing he was closer now, his stance wasn’t stiff, his eyes were still on you and his smile was turned to a smirk.

“Well if that’s so then please make sure to tell my father,” you retort a bit more collected. “He’ll rejoice and maybe finally give me what belongs to me.”

Prince Daemon chuckles and stays quiet for a moment before he glances around briefly. “Regardless, I hope,” he says with a sigh and meets your gaze. “That my display of violence today didn’t disturb you.”

You scoff in amusement and shake your head. “Not at all, I found it quite exciting actually. I mean it added excitement to a rather boring petition. No offense.”

Prince Daemon shakes his head and takes a step closer to you. “Not at all because the petition was unnecessary.”

You smile and nod. “Exactly, so maybe I should thank you. Besides, I found your actions quite….admiring.”

Prince Daemon smirks and slowly begins to close the large gap between you. “Is that so?” He probes.

You hum and watch drop his gaze briefly before lifting his eyes and meeting your gaze as you watch him closely.

“I hope that I get to see your swordsmanship for myself before I leave back to Dragonstone,” Prince Daemon interjects and slowly begins to walk around you, making you turn with him so you can keep your eyes on him.

You then chuckle and shake your head. “I’m afraid I am not worth watching. I am not as skilled as you or my husband,” you protest.

Daemon scoffs. “You’re being modest, my Lady.”

You shrug and hold his gaze. “Maybe,” you snap smugly.

“Well,” he sighs. “I hope I get to see it for myself. A one on one.” Prince Daemon stops walking and stands a few inches away now. He holds your gaze and keeps on his faint smirk, whilst you clasp your hands in front of you and offer him a sweet smile.

“We’ll have to see won’t we, I mean I have heard a lot of things about you.” You mention.

Daemon slightly narrows his eyes out of curiosity. “Good I hope?” He asks.

You shrug. “Depends on who you ask.”

He shoots you a pointed gaze and probes. “What have you heard?”

You draw in a deep breath and sigh. “That you are a legendary sword fighter as well as a dragon rider,” you share.

“You flatter me,” he scoffs.

You shake your head and retort. “I’m only stating the truth. It’s what you wanted, no?”

Daemon scoffs softly and nods before blinking and offering you a small smirk. “I’ve heard you are more of a dragon than a lion now.”

You snicker and slightly tilt your head. “Is that so?” You press.

His smirk deepens and before he can respond one of the castle workers walks up to you and hands you a scroll. “Here, My Lady,” she says. “It’s from the orphanage at Flea Bottom.”

You grab her hands and bow your head. “Thank you, Sasha.”

The brunette smiles at you and then leaves, letting you turn away from the Prince to open the scroll and read the words written on it.

“From the bottom of our hearts we thank you Lady Lannister for your generous donation. I hope the gods bless you and yours.

~ The children and everyone at the Mothers Home For Children.”

You smirk with pride at the words and begin to roll it back as the Prince interjects. “Good news?”

You nod and glance at him. “Excellent,” you share with a grin, and end up looking away first as you see Helaena approaching. “Ready?” You ask her.

As Helaena reaches your side she notices who you’re in front of and offers him a smile. “Uncle,” she greets.

He offers her a faint smile and bows his head. “Niece.”

You grab Helaena’s arm and glance at the Prince one last time. “We will see each other at dinner later, goodbye Prince Daemon.” You offer him one last smile and turn Helaena to begin walking out, letting him watch you both leave.

——

*LATER*

As far as family dinners go, they were okay, they were usually worth looking up to now, but this time, tonight wasn’t so appealing. Having all of them in one room was like chaos waiting to happen. It made you want to stay and eat dinner with Aemond in your shared quarters. And he wouldn't be against it either considering he doesn’t want to go, but you were all going for his father.

“How’s that?” He asks.

You glance up and notice he’s looking at the strings in the back of your dress.

“That’s good,” you assure him as you keep looking at him, watching as he knots the string, taking in the feeling of his hands on you, feeling his gentle breath unfurl on the back of your neck, and catching his stolen glance he shot your way.

When he notices you catch him, he looks down and pulls his hands away as he finishes.

“Beautiful,” he says.

You smile and keep your eyes on him. This time he looks up again and scoffs. “What?”

You smirk slowly and turn to face him, he meets your gaze and waits for a response. “Just admiring you, that’s all,” you say sweetly.

Aemond scoffs again and drops his gaze once more. He never takes compliments so well, he’s always so timid about them. It’s adorable.

“What?” You retort softly and close the small gap left between you to fiddle with the buckles of his leather dress coat.

Aemond slowly looks up at you and begins to smirk whilst he grabs your necklace to fiddle with that himself. You grin and place your hands on his chest before sliding them up to his shoulders.

“Maybe,” you begin to suggest in a whisper. “We can steal some time for ourselves, hm? Visenya is not here, we’re all alone.”

Aemond slowly tilts his head and licks his lips as he glances at yours. “We’ll be late,” he says.

You shrug. “So?” You argue. “We don’t have to take long. You wouldn’t even have to take off my dress, just a minute or two.”

Aemond leans in so his lips are close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He slowly parts his lips and sniffs your neck, getting a whiff of the perfume he liked so much before pulling back to press a kiss on your jaw.

You immediately smile and wrap your arms around his neck as he places his hands on your hips.

Aemond then kisses a trail along your jaw until he reaches your lips and pauses. You grow impatient so you lean in and kiss him, biting his bottom lip just slightly before adding more desperation to your kiss.

He chuckles at your action and then pushes you back to the bed. You beam up at him as he hovers over you and traps your head between his hands.

“Maybe,” you murmur and grab his collar to pull him closer. “We can make another baby. Maybe a boy this time.”

Aemond offers you a half grin and huffs. “As long as they’re fierce like they’re mother, I don’t care what they are,” he says and lets you pull him in for a kiss.

When you pull away you flip him around and lay above him, he proceeds to cup your cheek with one hand, but you grab his hand and push it down to your throat so he can wrap his fingers around it.

He snickers and kisses you first this time, unable to keep his hands from hiking up your skirt. Just as he was going to begin pulling down your undergarments a knock raps on your door, causing him to groan and for you to pull back.

“Who is it?!” You shout to the visitor.

“It’s Helaena!” She reveals herself. “I thought we could walk to dinner together?!”

You glance down at Aemond and snicker at him before fully pulling away from him and landing your feet on the floor. “Yes! That would be great, I will be out!”

You turn and watch Aemond pick himself off the bed to begin following you.

“Maybe, your little delight can sleep in the children’s room tonight?” You suggest smugly.

Aemond hums as you open the door to see Helaena waiting outside patiently.

“You look lovely,” she compliments and hooks her arm around yours.

You offer her a kind smile. “As do you,” you redirect and let her walk you off in front of Aemond.

On the way to the hall where dinner was meant to be, Helaena talks your ear off, when you reach the hall she doesn’t stop and brings her grandfather in the conversation since he, the Queen, and the others were already there waiting for the King to arrive. Even Aegon was there already—But he was mostly likely brought in by his mother or his grandfather, he’d probably be late otherwise.

Regardless, as you all waited, as you listened to Helaena speak, you feel a slight tingling sensation on your face. You rub your bottom lip to try and make it go away but it stays, so you reach for your wine and take a sip to ease whatever it is.

Alas, it’s as you’re drinking that you mindlessly glance around and accidentally catch the eyes of another already on you, Prince Daemon.

He lifts his goblet in front of him to take a drink, and you swallow back your wine and glance away, catching Aemond’s comment to his brother.

“Even when the noose is tied they expect us to break bread.”

You scoff softly and put down your cup, from one moment to another feeling a pat on your shoulder. As you look up you see Aegon now beside you.

“More wine my beloved goodsister?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Believe it or not,” you quip. “I am still working on my first one. What is this, your tenth cup just tonight?”

Aegon snickers and chugs the rest of the wine he has left. “Now,” he retorts and pulls his cup away from his lips. “It’s my tenth one. What a keen eye.”

You roll your eyes and push his hand off your shoulder. The door then proceeds to open as the King is brought in, making all the chatter come to a halt, and making Aemond take his seat at your side and directly across the table from Lucerys and Rhaena, whilst the others return to their own seats. Those who were sitting down, like you, stand up for a moment before you sit again and get pushed in closer to the table as the King is put down in front of the table.

After that the King doesn’t take long to break the silence. “How good it is….to see you all tonight,” he mutters hoarsely. “Together.” He breathes out and goes quiet, letting Alicent speak up.

“Prayer before we begin?” She suggests, and he agrees, causing you to hold your hands over the table and close your eyes as she continues. “May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.” She finishes, and you add your own small prayer quietly to yourself before opening your eyes and resting your hands on your lap.

“This is an occasion for celebration. It seems,” the King continues to add. “My grandsons, Jace and Luke. Will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena. Further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Princes…and their betrothed.”

You grab your cup and lift it just slightly before you bring it to your lips to take a sip for the Targaryen twins.

“Hear, hear!” Prince Daemon exclaims.

“Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys…” The King continues. “The future Lord of the Tides.”

“Hear, hear,” Baela says, and you take another sip, catching your ever so beloved husband piercing his glare into Luke.

When Aemond catches your gaze he simply puts his cup down and holds your gaze to share his discontent with a look alone, before you both look over at his father as he taps his cane against the ground for the attention of everyone around.

Now the King stands up and begins to breathe heavily as he does, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing to speak. “It both gladdens my heart, and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world…yet grown so distant from each other…in the years past.” He sighs before he reaches for his mask to slowly take it off and reveal what he hid under.

“My own face…” the King proceeds, whilst you let out a small breath of discomfort—or more pity. No matter how many times you’ve already seen his face in the times you’ve visited him, his face isn’t something you can’t get used to—“is no longer a handsome one…if indeed it ever was. But tonight…I wish you to see me…as I am.”

“Not just a king…but your father. Your brother. Your husband, and your grandsire. Who may not it seems…walk for much longer among you.” He lets out a heavy breath and hits his mask against the table. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown…then for the sake of this old man. Who loves you all so dearly.” He lets out another deep breath and slowly sits back down.

Now you begin to twist your Targaryen sigil ring around your finger and glance up at Princess Rhaenyra as she stands up to do a toast of her own. “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood…more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended him with…unfailing devotion, love and honor. And for that she has my gratitude…and my apology.” She sits back down as she finishes, and Alicent slowly interjects.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess.” She sniffles. “We’re both mothers…and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She proceeds to stand up and raises her cup along. “I raise my cup to you…and to your house. You will make a fine Queen.”

You raise your cup and sip some wine to Alicent’s kind words. You would’ve said something yourself, but in all reality you would’ve just raised your cup to Visenya and Aemond, so you just keep quiet instead and watch Aegon walk over to Baela and Jacaerys side to add something in a whisper that suddenly makes Jacaerys slam his fists against the table and stand up, earning everyone’s attention, and causing Aemond to stand up in his brother's defense.

As Jacaerys notices he glances over at Aemond and stays quiet. Alicent from across the table shares a quick passing look with you before she points to Aemond with her eyes.

You knew Aemond though, he wouldn’t do anything, yet, he was just intimidating the boy, so you did nothing but listen to Jacaerys as he interjects and raises his cup.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond…We haven’t seen each other in years. But I have fond memories of our shared youth.” He sighs. “And as men. I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s health dear uncles.”

You grab your cup and look up at Aemond beside you with a soft smile before happily taking a drink for that. Aemond stays on his feet for a moment longer albeit. Once he sits down though, you grab his hand. Aemond looks at you and sighs before he fills your cup with more wine as you set it down, making sure to keep his hand secured under yours.

“I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena,” Helaena interjects as she stands up, causing you to glance up at her as she continues. “They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad, mostly he just ignores you….except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

You grin in amusement at her toast and hear scattered laughter fill the room, making her smile as she sits back down.

“Good,” her grandfather whispers to her, and you reach for her hand to offer her a sweet smile.

“Let us have some music,” the King orders, and the music plays.

You shift in your seat to face Aemond, but in that moment see Jacaerys walk over and offer his hand to Helaena.

When she notices him she seems surprised but doesn’t turn him down and lets him walk her over to dance.

And honestly, it’s a bit funny that Jacaerys is toying with Aegon like that. Furthermore, you’re a bit envious too.

But that soon passes as Aemond begins to caress your hand with his thumb. When you glance at him you share a smile before reaching over for the strawberry tarts.

“Are you going to eat dessert before your dinner?” Aemond comments right away.

You put a fresh strawberry tart on your plate and nod. “Yes. What about it? You want a bite, my beloved?”

Aemond scoffs. “Visenya eats better than you.”

You giggle. “Visenya is a picky eater. It seems she has acquired your tastes.” You grab a piece with your fork and offer the piece to him. “Come on. They’re fresh and delicious. Please.” You bat your lashes.

Aemond glances at the food you offer him and then looks back at you. He sighs and reaches for your fork to take the bite you offer him.

You beam at him when he passes you back your fork, and he just rolls his eyes and makes you giggle. You intend to add something, but you pause to stand up as the King is being carried away. It’s only when he passes the table that you sit back down and continue in your same content.

“I forgot to tell you…”

Aemond sits back down and looks at you as you speak to him.

“Visenya rolled her eyes at me the other day, just like you did just now.” You lean closer to him.

Aemond smirks. “Did she?” He asks in amusement. “I suppose she has inherited your attitude then?”

You shoot him a pointed look and scoff softly before you just brush it aside. “Sure, I won’t even try to argue that because we won’t get anywhere. Just know your daughter rolled her eyes.”

Aemond grins and chuckles softly at that. Yet that happiness is short lived because as soon as the pig is set down in front of the both of you he suddenly grows serious and slams his fist against the table before standing up.

“Final tribute,” he interjects and raises his cup, making you grab yours and watch him. “To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he pauses and everyone looks over at him and waits in the tension that was beginning to rise again.

“Hm,” he hums. “Strong,” he finishes, and you try not to, but you find his comment funny and can’t help but smirk and pass a mischievous glance at Lucerys sitting at the other side.

“Come,” Aemond continues and pushes his cup to Jacaerys. “Let us drain our cups to these three…”

You lift your cup without shame in support of Aemond, even if you catch Baela’s glare.

“…strong boys.”

“I dare you to say it again,” Jacaerys quickly snaps back.

“Why? It was only a compliment,” Aemond quips and begins to trudge over to him, making you and everyone around the table stand up to watch them—“Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Without a moment to think, Jacaerys swings his fist and punches Aemond across the face.

Of course you don’t worry, you know that doesnt hurt Aemond, it only ignites more amusement. You don’t even worry when Aegon slams Lucerys face against the table.

Sure you can’t say you liked throwing away your new friendship with Baela because of this, but Aemond was your family, your husband, so you don’t hesitate facing as she tries to storm over to Aegon and Aemond.

The moment she catches your taunting gaze she seems betrayed and only grows more furious, and you more amused; you offer her a cocky smirk, and proudly raise your head to show her you’re more than ready to fight if need be, even if you hear Alicent and Princess Rhaenrya try to stop what’s going on.

It’s not one of your—no, it is one of your proudest moments. Who are you kidding? Drama and fighting is a delight.

Baela doesn’t share your amusement though, especially not as Aemond shoves her betrothed to the ground with ease. But she can’t do anything about it, about your stance, or your threatening gaze since her sister holds her back.

“Rhaena!” She tries to call her sister off as she keeps holding your gaze.

You slowly begin to grin at her before Aegon walks over to you with pride over your actions.

He grabs your shoulder and turns you around.

“…though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs!” You hear Aemond say as he continues to storm back to Jacaerys.

Jacaerys manages to slip out of the guards hold and tries to storm over to Aemond to meet him in the middle, but Prince Daemon comes in between them first.

“Wait, wait!” He makes Jacaerys step back, and The Princess sends them away whilst Prince Daemon turns and meets Aemond’s gaze.

That’s the only time when you grow concerned and serious. As they hold each other's glares, since you know what they’re both capable of.

Luckily nothing happens though, Aemond just loses his smirk and hums before he walks away. You immediately pull away from Aegon and follow after Aemond back to your quarters.

He doesn’t speak the entire way there, nor when you find privacy inside your room. And you know better than to press him when he’s upset, at least right away. You let him keep to himself and get a bath fixed instead.

Like always he watches the flames of the fire dance in the fireplace and only breaks his eyes away when he hears you dip in. Yet he doesn’t say a thing, so you now interject.

“You will grow wrinkles at an early age if you keep scowling like that.” You sink deeper in and let your arm hang over the tub. “Why don’t you join me?”

Aemond stands up and pulls a chair to the side of the tub to sit beside you.

“I hoped you would join me inside,” you say and grab his hand to fiddle with his fingers.

Aemond sighs and meets your gaze. “I enjoy admiring you from here just fine. I find pleasure in watching you bathe.”

You smile before you rest your chin on his hand. “Like the first time?” You ask.

Aemond nods. “Yes.”

You grin, and he cups the side of your head to tilt your head up to face him. “When my father dies my brother will become King. A war will most likely start over the throne….” he sighs and averts his gaze.

That’s obvious. It’s been obvious since Aegon was born to King Viserys and he didn’t change his heir. Marrying Aemond forced you to a side whether you wanted to or not. You've never doubted your alliance though, not even when you didn't like him, nor when Visenya was born, so what does he mean by this?

“Yes,” you mutter unsurely. “What about it?” You pick your head off his hand and slightly narrow your eyes. “Is there something you wish to ask?”

Aemond shakes his head. “No, it is not that. Listen to me, y/n,” he makes himself clear and holds your hands in his. “No matter what was said at dinner by my mother, putting Aegon on the throne has always been the plan—”

“Yes,” you cut him off. “I know and I won't debate who I will side with because I know my answer, my answer is you. Not Aegon, you.” You lean in closer to him and hold his gaze. “Just you. If you want the throne for yourself I will fight for you—”

Aemond shifts in his seat and swallows thickly. “For myself?” He asks as if you don’t know what runs through his mind, as if you don’t know his worth.

You nod confidently. “We both know you are more suited for the throne than Aegon. I know you are more suited for it, and I know you deserve it. I know you Aemond—I like to think I do anyway. So, if you wish to fight for it I will side with you because I am your wife, and you are my husband.” You kiss his hands and smile up at him.

Meanwhile, Aemond lets his eyes linger on you in the silence that fell over you. He doesn’t move, or say a thing right away, he just stares at you for a moment before he slowly smiles and pulls his hands away from yours to grab your face and pull you in for a kiss.

You’re stunned by the action, thinking he would be upset, but he isn’t, so you kiss him back with a heated passion and don’t pull away until he does so he can rest his forehead agaisnt yours.

“And I want you as my Queen, at my side,” he says against your lips. “There is no one more fucking capable than you. The people love you, you do so much for them, people at court love you. You would make an excellent Queen.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I am not of Valyrian blood,” you murmur with insecurity.

Aemond pulls his face away and shakes his head. “Nor is my mother. You don’t need it, you are my wife, and far more worthy of that title than any other woman.”

The corner of your lips tug to a soft smile, and he continues.

“And I have an heir, Visenya. If not we’ll make one….”

He suddenly trails off and lowers his gaze. He lets his hands slip off your face, and you know right away what crosses his mind.

“But you won’t do it,” you interject.

Aemond sighs and shakes his head slowly. “No.”

You sigh and tilt your head to meet his gaze. “I will stand by your side regardless,” you assure him.

Aemond stands up and you watch him begin to strip off his clothes before he gets in the bath with you. As he rests his arms on the side of the bath, you crawl over to him, and he watches you carefully and with a smirk playing on his lips before grabbing your chin.

“There are things that I will most likely have to do for Aegon,” he finally says once you’re in front of him. “Things I will understand if you do not want to be a part of.”

You begin to smirk and scoff at him. “You know me, right?” You tell him and pull his hand off your chin to grab it. “I am not one to shy away from blood, or violence.”

Aemond begins to smirk.

“If you wish to burn down castles,” you continue softly and slither your hands over his arms. “I will be on that dragon with you. War is war. I will not cower away from it.” You reach for his face and shoot him a half cocky grin before pressing a kiss on his lips, and then staying inches away.

“I have your back, always,” you remind him and pull off his eyepatch to look at him as he is. “No matter what you do, my love. Until the end of my days.”

Aemond grins proudly, and caresses your chin before he cradles your face and presses a gentle kiss on your lips and murmurs against them. “I thank the gods everyday that they gave me to you.”

You scoff softly and avert your gaze, but he quickly tilts your head so you can meet his gaze to make himself clear. “I have your back. I will love you, until the end of my days.”

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Tagged: @winter-soldier-101 @whateverooooooo @xcharlottemikaelsonx @blue-serendipityy @aistheamazing @lawlerek @hydrationqueensworld @out-of-life @claudie-080102 @ameagrice

[myladyship]

"After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?"

"Next to my wife."

[eraenaa]

Worth the Price

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

Synopsis: Aemond does everything to prove that he is worthy of you— even if it means that he would be a kinslayer twice.

Warnings: Aemond Plots Against Aegon, Oral Sex (f & m receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Choking, Edging, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 5,585

A/N: Reposting bc I was uncertain about this dynamic, but fuck it, I have a soft spot for a Lannister reader and cannot let it rest in my drafts.

Aemond had wanted you since he was young, but as a second son, he would always come second best to his brother. You were a daughter of house Lannister, betrothed to Aegon the moment you were born, an alliance not to keep their Valyrain blood pure but rather to be mixed with gold. You had grown in the walls of the keep, taken from your mother’s arms a few moons after your birth, and grew up under the supervision of your uncle, Tyland Lannister, as a measure to keep you acquainted with your betrothed, Aegon. 

However, such arrangements instilled since your infancy were changed when Queen Alicent was offered a bastard for her only daughter. The queen was quick to cut the engagement made in your infancy and instead betrothed her firstborn son to her firstborn daughter, offering Aemond as your consolation prize. Aemond, who was ten at the time, was thrilled to hear of such arrangements, finally gaining one of the things his heart yearned for the most: you. However, he could see the quiet and greatly covered disappointment not only in your house but in you as well— you were set to be queen, now you were now only to be the lady-wife of a mere second-born son. 

Aemond never truly heard such qualms leave your lips. He was fortunate enough that you had always been keen and kind to him in childhood, and your affection for him only grew in time. But he could not help but be affected by your quiet and greatly oppressed disappointment. For the first ten years of your life, you were prepared and molded to be a queen, hours of unending lessons on how to play the part wasted as you were to be bound to a mere second son. Aemond could not stand for it. He ambitioned to be so much more. He could not stand to be just the second. Second son, second in line, second in your heart. 

“My love, are you listening?” You asked as your husband’s gaze was afar, and you had noticed his attention was not on you. You furrowed your brows as he made no reply, tugging at his arm to bring him out of his trance. “I— I apologize, my heart, I was thinking of another matter,” You pursed your lips and hummed, “And praytell, what matter may that be? Certainly, it is of much importance that you have started ignoring me,” Aemond bit his lip to hinder his amused smirk; he just absolutely adored how you were never afraid to voice out and demand his undivided attention— in others, he would find that absolutely insufferable, but of course, that sentiment was not the same for his dear lady-wife. 

Aemond sighed and could not help but kiss you, unbothered that you two were in the halls and anyone could walk in and see such passion exuding from his usually stoic and rigged demeanor. As your lips parted and Aemond’s body was alight by the feel of your lips and the taste of you, you simply raised your brow, silently urging him to tell the matters that plagued his mind. Aemond tucked a strand of your golden hair and sighed once more, “Nothing— just mere matters of the realm that the king is too incompetent to comprehend and tend to,” You nodded, “Then he is lucky to have you— his brother forever capable and loyal to him and the kingdom,” Aemond bit his tongue. “You must steer him in the right direction, my love. We are already at war; we cannot have the kingdom in shambles because of Aegon’s squandering self. You have always been the diligent one, unending hours poured into learning the histories of your house and training with your sword… your great knowledge must be exercised greatly in this hour of war.” Aemond could only nod his agreement. You smiled and cupped his cheek, tracing his scar, and you hummed as Aemond pressed his cheek further into your soft palm. 

“Now go; I believe that it is the hour of the small council. Best be there and see to it that your brother does not humiliate your family’s claim to the throne further,” You say, reluctantly urging him to let go of his hold on you, even though you were always quick to miss his touch. Aemond shook his head, “Do not be so stubborn,” you said, and you smiled further when Aemond wrapped both of his arms around your waist. You rose to the tip of your toes and pecked your husband’s lips as encouragement. Even though you had shared his kisses countless of times, you still felt the quiet tingle on your plush lips as you two did such actions. “Very well then, I shall do whatever my lady-wife should ask of me,” He said against your lips, making your smile widen. You parted and tried to walk off, but Aemond took hold of your wrist and pulled you back to him, a laugh escaping from your lips, and you rested your hands atop his chest. “And where are you off to?” 

You smirked, “To some engagements for the court that I offered Helaena reprieve from. And after, you shall find me in our chambers… warming our bed… waiting impatiently for you.” You whispered the final part, watching as Aemond’s lilac eye darkened with want, pupils dilated that it made your core turn— finding it utterly flattering how quickly your husband will always grow in want of you. “Now go; the quicker you are to attend the meeting, the quicker they are to end, and you can be my arms.” You said and gave a final kiss on your husband’s cheek before hastily walking off, afraid that Aemond’s wants would get the better of him and take you against the alcove in the hall; it had occurred once or twice before. 

Aemond stomped off the room of the small council after a rather aggravating session with his brother. Seeing Aegon be so clueless with the matters of the realm and the war was pathetic. And in a way, Aemond found great satisfaction in that— seeing Aegon struggle to comprehend his words as he spoke in the ancient tongue, his brother unable to articulate even just one sentence without stammering like a simpleton was quite amusing but overly embarrassing. As the meeting ended, Aemond was quick to rise to his feet and leave, overly impatient to be with you— savoring every second in your arms before he had to leave quietly in the night to make good of his secret plottings with Ser Criston. 

Aemond walked the halls that led to his chambers, each step fervent and quick. The fading sun illuminated his chambers when he entered, setting it aglow in an amber hue. “I’ve been waiting,” Aemond heard you breathlessly call, his head quickly turning to your bed; he squinted his eye as he could not see you through the canopy covers. Aemond wasted no time to march in your direction; his breath caught in his throat as he saw your figure covered by nothing but a thin sheet that was comparable to what the whores in the street of silk wore. You lounged laxly in the middle of the bed, your body in full display for your husband, who stared at you dumbfounded and filled with desire. 

“Seven hells,” Aemond could not help but mutter in pure amazement. His knees felt weak, and his stomach coiled painfully in burning want of you. “Do you not like it?” You frowned as he only stood there, you feigned innocence— of course, you knew he would like it. You knew your husband better than he knew himself. Having grown up with him, you knew every possible thing there is to know about Aemond. Aegon may have been your betrothed at the start, but you were not at all keen to know him to such a deeper level than you had his brother. 

You went to the edge of the bed to meet your husband, who stood by the foot of it, kneeling before him as he hungrily raked his gaze through your body, yet he still did not dare to move. “Has my display rendered you simple, my prince?” You asked lowly, peeking up at him through your lashes and watching as the ball on his throat bobbed and hearing how his breathing turned ragged. You hummed and raised your hand to caress his cheek, rising higher to be met with his face, slyly pushing your breast against his clothed chest. Aemond groaned at just the simple feeling of that. You ghosted your lips against his jaw and neck, your fingers effortlessly undoing the buckles of his leather doublet. 

Your hand slowly trailed south after you had successfully removed his upper clothing; you heard the catch in Aemond’s breath as your fingers trailed his toned chest and torso. Every single inch of him was carved by the gods and embodied a warrior. Aemond hissed as he felt you cup his needing length through his trousers, watching as a sly smirk rose to your lips. “I see that you are quite… tense, my love,” You whispered against his lips, catching as his eye fluttered to a close as you added pressure into his length. “I am.” He gritted, and your smirk widened. “Hm… tell me then what do you need— what do you want, my prince?” You taunted and felt him shudder as you slipped your hand into his trousers, finally letting him feel skin against skin.

“I want… I need you, little wife. I desperately need you,” He muttered as his eye opened. Aemond moved to kiss your lips, but you instead lowered yourself to be met with his length, yanking down his trousers and letting your lips wrap around the tip of his needing and weeping cock. Aemond’s hands lost themselves in your hair, fisting the gold strands in utter pleasure, hissing as you sucked his length, urging yourself to take his cock deeper into your throat. Lewd sounds of your and Aemond’s heavy breathing, along with you gagging on his cock echoed through the chambers. Quiet praises leave your husband’s lips as you pleasure him with your mouth. You reached out to fondle his stones, earning a loud groan from him, and his head tilted to the heavens. Aemond could only stand there and marvel at you, his eye torn as to what to stare upon, your pretty face or your ample behind that hung in the air and squirmed with each of your pleasurable movements. He began to wonder what he had done to have you as his lady wife and pondered the ways he could prove himself worthy of you. 

Aemond felt himself ready to come undone, and he forcefully slipped out his cock from your lips, earning a whine from you. “Had I done something wrong?” You panted as you wiped away the traces of drool on your chin, looking up at Aemond with slight hurt in your eyes. Your husband was quick to shake his head and cup your cheeks, “No— you could never do me wrong, my heart,” He reassured, but you felt yourself pout and wonder as to why he had ceased your actions, if you were being honest, you quite enjoyed sucking his cock. 

“Then wh—“ Your words were left unfinished as you felt Aemond cup your dripping heat. Your eyes widened, and the earlier smirk on your lips had now flown to your husband’s. “Already so wet for me… you are a saint, my heart. Tending to my needs first even though you yourself are in desperate want of release.” Aemond hummed as your eyes rolled back; he effortlessly slipped two digits into your dripping core. You mewled out his name, squealing as he curled the digits and as his thumb fervently rubbed your sensitive pearl. “I want your cock,” You said distractedly, any form of decorum or chasteness gone as your want for Aemond had made you utterly desperate. 

Aemond let out an amused breath, “Of course you do,” He taunted and smashed his lips unto yours. You clawed at his toned arm as you felt your release bubbling, but before you could finally feel the climax you sought, Aemond parted your lips and ceased the pleasure of his fingers. You whined, glaring at your husband, who only stared down at you in amusement as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off your essence. “Patience, my heart. All that you want shall come in due time,” He whispered his oath, and you huffed as he walked away, leaving you to wonder what had gotten into his mind. 

You lay on the bed as your husband went to one corner of your chambers. Your legs were spread, and your cunt was pulsating in need. You could not help yourself as your fingers slipped along the wet folds, holding back your moans as you touched yourself because you could not wait for your husband to give you your release. Aemond stilled as he heard your once still breathing hitch and the distant and quiet sound of your wetness. He turned to the bed and saw as your back was arched, and your fingers disappeared to pleasure your cunt. 

He took large strides only to witness you on the verge of an orgasm that he had denied you of. You groaned as Aemond took hold of your wrist, your second time being denied your release. “You’re being cruel, husband,” You whined as you stared up at your husband, a wicked glint in his eye. “Please, Aemond… I need you,” You breathed out, and all he did was hum. That was then you realized he held something in his other hand. You sat up, skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Aemond moved his lips to pepper kisses on the side of your neck, bitting to leave his mark as a reminder as to who you belonged to. 

“Open it,” Aemond murmured against your skin as he placed a velvet box into your hands. You frowned as he continued on to pepper kisses on your neck and down the swell of your breasts, ripping off the thin sheet you had worn. You did as he told and felt a gasp escape your lips as you saw what was inside and as his fingers pinched the bud of your tit. “W—What is this for?” You said mind befuddled as you did not know where to focus, your husband’s gift or his pleasure. “It is for you, of course.” He said plainly, took the ruby tiara into his hands, and moved to place it atop your head. Aemond grew further with need at the sight of you flushed and naked; the only thing you had on was the tiara he had commissioned for you. 

You stared up at your husband in wonder, “I— It’s lovely… thank you, but my love, I am in no position to warrant a tiara— it is rather inappropriate, do you not think?” You asked and tried your best to focus as Aemond fondled your breasts. Aemond placed open kisses onto the side of your breasts, trying to form his words. “Aemond,” You called and Feld his face to look you in the eye. You delicately took off his eye patch as his lips pursed. “What is this for?” You asked once again. 

“Do you wish to be queen?” He instead asked you, and you were rendered speechless. “Do not deny it, my heart… You were born and bred with the purpose of being queen of the seven kingdoms.” He sighed, and you tried to find your words. “Even now, you bear the duties of a Queen that Helaena cannot tend to,” He added, as you were always by his sister’s side, aiding her with her duties until she all together left the role up to you. You let out a heavy breath. “I… Sometimes I do— seeing that was my whole purpose, why I was taken out of my parents’ care and instead raised here to do what was expected of me.” You admitted and felt your heart pit as Aemond avoided your gaze. “But I’d rather have married you than be queen.” You quickly added. 

“I may have wanted the title, Aemond… but I want you more. I am perfectly content with just being your wife,” You reassured, but something in Aemond burned in anger. Anger at the gods as to why he was born the second son— anger at himself as to why he had to seek out Aegon instead of just letting him escape. You sighed as you rested your forehead against Aemond’s, “Do you believe me?” You questioned and waited for his reply. Aemond bit his tongue not completely believing that you were perfectly content with your station because even he was not contented. He knew envy was a lesser emotion that he must not succumb to, but it was inevitable, especially as he bore witness to how his brother squandered off the most coveted station in the kingdom. He gave a nod and connected your lips, deciding to lay the matter to rest for the moment. 

You sighed and steadied yourself as he hoisted you on his lap, moans leaving your lips as you sank down on his cock. Aemond’s breathing labored as he felt your tight cunt around his length and as your nails left traces along his back. “Oh… gods, Aemond—“ You cried as you rocked your hips, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch and your eyes rolled back in utter pleasure. Your moans filled his ears, and Aemond could only hum with satisfaction. “You sound like such a whore, little wife,” he muttered as he reached downwards to trace circles on your nubbin. You could only whine louder, too focused as you bounced on his cock and sought out your high. “Such a vision you are… bouncing on my cock and moaning out my name with a tiara on your pretty head.” 

Aemond’s other hand harshly gripped your tit as he was overwhelmed by the feel of you. “So perfect you are,” He praised, and you smirked at him through the haze of pleasure, your cunt clenching further as you had always loved when he would compliment you. “Such a perfect wife— you would have been wasted on my squandering brother.” He gritted and groaned as you clenched around him tightly and as you nodded your head in agreement. “I was meant to be yours, Aemond,” You breathed as you felt your skin alight with your nearing climax. “You’re mine… all mine.” He groaned as you came undone, your loud moans spurring his own release. “All yours,” You swore and watched as his face contorted in pleasure. 

You sighed in contentment as you lay on Aemond’s chest and as he ran his hands through your hair. “I must leave,” He suddenly cut the silence. “I must meet with Cole,” You pursed your lips. “I know.” You said, trying not to let the tone of bitterness and concern be heard. Aemond furrowed his brows as he looked down upon you. You raised your gaze to meet his, “I know you, Aemond. I know you better than I know the back of my hand— did you really think I would not figure out that you had plotted secretly with Ser Criston?” You questioned, and Aemond sighed, his heart warming further for you as you uttered such words. 

You sat upright to gain a better view of your husband, Aemond already feeling cold, as you removed yourself from his chest. “Be cautious, my love— do not be so reliant on Vhagar. Swear that you will return to me unscathed.” You implored, and Aemond leaned forward to capture your lips. When your lips parted, whatever tenderness you had was hidden behind your serious and threatening expression, urging your husband to be cautious and vigilant. “You will not make me a widow at only nine and ten, Aemond.” You said, voice overly serious and gaze scorching, but your husband still had the gall to laugh. “I wouldn’t dare to, my heart.” He said and captured your lips once more to seal his oath that he would return to you unharmed. 

The whispers of vipers were deafening. ‘The king was slain,’ they would say. And murmurs had spread that the fall of the king was not caused by the Queen Who Never Was but rather by the One-Eyed Prince. You had stewed in silence as you could not possibly fathom what had happened. The only thing that had kept you sane was a single letter that came from your husband stating that he was well and would fly back and return to you in a day or two. 

You stood in the gardens alone as you pondered upon the whispers spreading around the keep when you felt strong hands wrap around your frame and lips pressing kisses upon your neck. Your tense frame momentarily turned lax at the touch of your husband. “I have missed you, my heart,” He said softly and tried to capture your lips— for him, a week was far too long not to be in your presence. Suspicion rose in you as you heard elation in his voice— elation that was rarely present in him. You turned and saw satisfaction glinting in Aemond’s eye. “What has happened?” You questioned, a sickening feeling in your stomach as your intuition told you that there was something afoot. 

Aemond frowned at the seriousness on your face. “We had won the battle— we had effectively cut off Dragonstone by land, my plan proven effective.” He said, dipping down to try and capture your lips, but you backed away, your movements sending a tinge to Aemond’s heart. “What has happened to Aegon?” You whispered and saw how quickly the satisfaction in your husband’s eye disappeared. “The king was inexperienced in battle— he fought against the qualms of his council, and now he reaps the consequences.” You shook your head as you studied each expression of your husband. “Who had caused his injuries? They are whispering that it was not made by Rhaenys but rather by his own brother… tell me the truth of it, Aemond.” 

Your husband sighed, stirring you to the side, away from prying eyes and ears. “It was an unfortunate incident… but it was a necessary one. The end justifies the means, my heart. You must know this.” He whispered, hoping to see understanding in your eyes, but he could only see horror. Your mind spun at the words your husband said; you felt bile rising to your throat because, within a blink of an eye, you scarcely recognized the man before you— the man you had spent your whole life with, unrecognisable. Aemond felt his heart sink as you shook your head and removed his hold on you, hastily running away from him.  

He knew what he had done was cruel— treasonous, but it was for the greater good. He could not watch idly as his brother commanded the throne even though he was unfit to rule. He could not stand to watch as Aegon squandered away his birthright and made their cause’s claim weak. It was a last resort that he had to succumb to— a last resort to save their faction and to prove himself worthy of you. Your words haunted him; the way you admitted that a part of you wished to be queen and the image of you wearing a tiara of rubies burned into his mind. He had to make it a reality. He needed to be king and have you by his side as his queen.  

You avoided your husband the following days, unable to comprehend what he had somehow become. You had always known he had great ambitions—you would lie if you said that you had not encouraged his, for you as well had your own—but you never meant for it to come to this. You never thought of the possibility that Aemond would kill for the throne. For revenge, yes, but certainly not for his own brother’s station. 

It was the day of Ser Criston’s return when you finally revealed yourself to Aemond. Standing by his side along with his mother as you three peered down on the few soldiers returning from battle, along with a cart that housed the fallen king who was clinging to life. You stared head-on as you felt the questioning and almost spiteful stare of the Queen Mother towards your husband. Not an ounce of remorse was shown by Aemond as he proudly wore the Valyrian steel dagger. 

The queen walked off, ready to meet her firstborn son, and you moved to follow, but your husband took hold of your upper arm and forced you to look upon him. “How long will you ignore me, little wife?” He hummed, growing impatient with each day of your ignorance of him. You stayed quiet, unable to meet his gaze. It was torture for you as well— you had missed your husband greatly, but the guilt you felt by his actions, which you knew were partly because of you, was greater. You long tried to hide your disappointment as you were not made queen; you thought it cruel that they had taken you away from the arms of your mother moments after your birth just to be raised in the keep and groomed to be the perfect and dotting wife of a king and take it all away with just one notion. 

All those years of effort and sacrifices were wasted. But you did not dwell on it further as they presented Aemond to be your husband instead. You knew he believed you and your family see him as a consolation prize— and for your house, he was, but for you, you would gladly trade away all the gold in your house’s coffers and the crown for Aemond. You had loved him ever since you two were children; you were intended for Aegon, but your heart had always longed for his younger brother. It was a shame that he could not see it until now. 

It was flattering that he tried to prove himself to you— that he says he does not deserve you, but you could never agree to such sentiments because you knew in yourself that you were meant to be his. It pains you that whatever you say, whatever you do to reassure him that you are happy and content in his arms, even without the prestige of titles, he still does not believe you. 

Aemond felt his heart twist further as you shook your head and walked off. He followed you quietly as you two ventured to the chambers of the king to bear witness to the price of ambition. You could not will yourself to walk in; the distant sight of Aegon filled with burns, clinging to life, along with his death rattle breathing, was enough for you to flee away. Aemond watched as you stumbled through the halls, unable to bear the sight of what he had done. It was only then did Aemond felt guilt. Not guilt for what he had done to his brother but guilt as he saw your reaction— it was only then did he realized that the weight of his actions would affect his lady-wife as well. 

It was sundown when your uncle sought you out. Telling you what had transpired in the small council and how Aemond was named Prince Regent. He as well questioned you as to what you knew about the battle in Rook’s Rest and if your husband had confided in you any secrets, as all who had returned from the battlefield kept a tight lip. You said not a word. Your loyalty to your husband has proven to be greater than your guilt for Aegon’s state. 

“Greatly unfortunate as the events were… I must say that the council and I are relieved that your husband shall see to the concerns of the Realm.” Your uncle muttered, and you sat stiffly in your seat. “Really?” You asked in a small voice. “King Aegon might be the firstborn, but all are aware that Aemond has the tact to rule. Let us pray that he would lead our side to victory— his brother certainly cannot.” He sighed as he stood, kissing your cheek as he exited your private chambers, leaving you to ponder on his words. 

A storm came at night, and you could not find rest as your husband was not by your side. The rain and thunder always made you uneasy, and at times like these, you greatly relied on Aemond for comfort. You walked the path to your marital chambers and peeked inside, only to see your husband was absent. You walked along the cold halls of the keep, searching for Aemond in his usual spots, but to no avail. Your feet carried you to the great hall, and there you found him, staring upon the iron throne. You bit your lip as you studied him, staring at the prize of his efforts. 

Aemond felt a presence join him, and he turned his gaze and was met with you. “Was it worth the price?” You questioned, a steely look on his face as he thought over your words. You stood still as your husband took slow strides towards you. “If it proves me worthy of you, then it does.” You let out a breath as he said the words. “Aemond… how many times must I repeat myself— you do not need to prove yourself to me. I— I love you unconditionally. I do not need the throne or a crown… can you still not see that all I want is you?” 

Aemond cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. “What’s done is done. We need not dwell on this matter, my heart. What is important is that we got what we wanted— we finally have what we deserve.” He whispered, lips flying towards yours. You felt weak as your lips entangled with your husband’s. “This… this is not right.” You whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck and to the valley of your breasts, his fingers slipping off the shift you wore, leaving you standing bare in the middle of the throne room. “What is not right is that our efforts and potential are wasted as those who are unfit for the title, rule. We were made for the throne, my heart… stop resisting it; you know it is the truth.” 

You breathed heavily as you watched your husband fall to his knees, and his lips kissed your cunny. “Admit what you want, my heart.” His voice muffled against your skin, your hands moving to grip his hair and steady yourself as his tongue drew circles upon your cunt. You feel him grip your thighs, urging you to speak. “You… I want you.” You cried, desperately writhing your cunt against his face. “And?” He questioned, and you tilted your head back, your climax quick to come as your body ached for your husband’s touch. “To be queen… I want you and be queen,” You admitted with a gasp as you felt his tongue enter your dripping core. Aemond smirked against your cunt; his body fueled with need as he tasted your essence. When you came undone, he greedily licked and lapped any remnants of your release, not at all conscious that you two may be caught in such compromising situations. 

You watched through the haze of your release as your husband stood and undid his trousers. Your gaze followed him as he stood behind you and slipped in his length; your loud, surprised moan echoed through the empty hall and was accompanied by the clap of thunder. You cried as Aemond mercilessly pounded into your cunt, your dazed gazes planted on the throne. You gasped for air as Aemond wrapped his calloused hand around your throat and urged you to rest your weight on his leather-covered chest; all the while, his thrusts were relentless. “Are you to come? Are you to come before the throne, my wife?” He taunted in your ear, biting the lobe, and you could only cry in pleasure, your body arching and your hips meeting each of his thrusts. “Yes… yes!” You cried as his other hand returned to its usual torment and drew circles upon your cunt. 

You threw your head back upon Aemond’s shoulders as you were met with your second release. With a few more thrusts, you feel him come undone, his seed filling your cunt, and he could only hope that it would finally take, for he surely needed heirs. Aemond turned your head to face his and kissed your lips, finally feeling a speck of calm in his raging being, for he knew he had secured the station that you both deserved. 

As you two tried to relish in the calm brought by your climaxes, outside the great hall, the castle was in an uproar as the king drew in his last breath. Men searching for the prince regent to inform him of the dire news. They scoured every corner of the castle and soon found their new king seated on the iron throne with his queen bouncing on his cock, Aemond fucking her in their rightful place.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

saw that you're in your got era so perhaps jealousy headcanons for the got or hotd characters? 👀 literally anyone from these characters - robb, jaime, margaery, oberyn, theon, cersei or ramsay, I'd love to see your interpretation on any of them ! ( or aemond, alicent, aegon, gwayne, OTTO !!, larys, daemon or mysaria for hotd, again whichever era you feel like it !!) and just for future reference, do you write for asoiaf characters or mainly the shows?

'LOVE CAN KILL, [jealousy! hcs]

-GOT / HOTD CHARACTERS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Robb, Jaime, Margaery, Oberyn, Cersei, Joffrey, Ramsay, Tyrion, The Hound, Aemond, Aegon, Alicent, Gwayne, Daemon

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; jealousy, and how some characters deal with it ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOT and HOTD!characters x female reader. SFW! But naturally, some of these characters get a bit suggestive! Possessive behavior, canon typical violence, etc. Please send in more GOT/HOTD requests! Apologies this took so long, this is more characters in a post than I've ever done lol. Unfortunately I'm not super familiar with Otto, Larys, Theon, or Mysaria, so I decided to pick some characters I'm more familiar with! (Joffrey is my #1 favorite of all time, my sincerest apologies.) Whew, 14 characters ! For right now I'm only writing for the TV shows! (i've only read book 1, lol)

𝑅𝛰𝐵𝐵 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐾

♫ “I wasn't thinking when I told you to stay.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

With Robb, it's all about the body language. And boy, he's horrible at hiding it.

He can have a hard time placing the feeling as jealousy. He was raised to be honorable. But feelings of...neglect run deep with him. Oldest child syndrome, if you will.

Which is why his jealousy most likely manifests in subdued, quiet behavior. Part of him will recognize he's being ridiculous, while another part of him is silently fuming. Fists clenched, he'll send you an intense stare as he watches you converse with another lord.

His emotions leak through his expressions. When he catches you staring back, his gaze will flit down, and he'll wait patiently for you're time. Or...in most cases...he'll march right up, placing himself between you and the man. Maybe a small, "I'll take it from here." If the lord is offering to help you with something.

A subtle touch on the small of your back. It's a small claim, a subtle "back-off."

A lot of his jealousy also transforms into protectiveness more than anything. He'll offer to accompany reader to places he wouldn't normally be concerned about. He's close by, and he's reminding her wordlessly, he's watching over her and any threat.

Finally, when you two are alone, will he drop down that guard of his. Covering up that burning pit inside him with casual humor, you can sense the underlaying seriousness of his voice in his light teases.

"You’re quite popular these days. Should I be worried that I’m not your only admirer?"

He certainly beds you, having something to prove. And only afterwards when you are in his arms, sweaty and warm from the candlelight, wrapped in furs...will he calm down.

"It’s not that I don’t trust you… It’s them I don’t trust. Some men don’t know how to keep their place." He'll whisper, holding onto you firmly.

𝐽𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “You don't know that you're in over your head.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Jaime's jealousy is burning. It's simply the way he was raised. And gods, you are his.

Numerous sarcastic remarks flow between the two of you and the man who he believes has essentially stolen your affections. His taunts are offhand, dry remarks, often directed towards his "opponent" or even you, if he's feeling bitter enough.

"I didn’t realize he was such a comedian. Maybe I should ask him for pointers." He'll say, with that sarcastic drawl. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to make me jealous. Not that it would work, of course." He chuckles, but his gaze is sharp.

Depending on the offense, Jaime's reactions differ. If you simply have an admirer, a few...well chosen words are directed towards them. His confidence allows him to not be too bothered. Maybe standing closer, clearly showing off to whatever poor soul thought they had a shot with you.

It's a different story if you are friends with the person involved, or entertain their advances even mildly or jokingly.

That's when the uncharacteristic tension comes out, full of small twitches in his jaw and curt, smug responses. His visible annoyance is uncontrolled.

We saw how he was with Loras when it came to Cersei. If he feels truly threatened, whether it's by another pretty boy, or just someone he feels could...hypothetically...have the upper hand...He'll corner them when you're off somewhere else. And give a small warning, from the Kingslayer himself.

"You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with, so let me remind you." He leans in just close enough for his words to sink in. "Whatever you think you might be to her… you’re not. Let’s keep it that way, hm? I'd hate to see you make any...lasting mistakes."

𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝐸𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “It was just too hard to push you away.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Margaery is smart with her feelings. She knows how to play the game, and play it well. Instead of showing her jealousy openly, she's a touch more composed than most characters on this list.

She recognizes just how precious you are, and admires that. She doesn't necessarily blame others when they become...attached to you.

When jealousy arises, she views it more as a small problem in need of being handled. And she knows how to handle things.

She embraces the graceful competition, subtly outshining anyone who seems to get in the way of her goals. Her goal being you're affection, of course. You're already hers, and she sees no problem in working to keep it that way.

This appears in gestures of strategic sweetness to keep you close, perhaps wearing your favorite gowns on her, and offering that charming smirk. She doesn't shy away from manipulating you, just a teeny bit.

"They’re certainly captivated by you. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to keep your attention." She teases, "Besides, who could ever compare to us?"

Her words carry a playful undertone, but she makes her point clear. Laughing charmingly, threading her arm through yours.

Very rarely does she think she's in any serious danger. She prides herself on being yours and knowing how to keep you on a tight leash. Though...if she feels genuinely worried, she expresses her feelings quite clearly but still gently. She reminds her lover of their shared goals, and all that they've built together.

"My, you do attract admirers easily, don’t you? I’ll have to start guarding you more closely." She gives you a playful look, though her touch on your arm will linger just a bit longer than usual.

𝛰𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑌𝑁 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “Let me go, but you won't let me go.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oberyn doesn't feel insecure. How could he? He knows, deep down, that you're his. Jealousy isn't something he confines himself too, he views it as an ugly emotion, capable of getting rid of the true wonders love has to offer.

That being said...he is only a man. And he is fiercely protective. If anyone were to flirt with you and you were clearly uninterested, it would be a swift death, or at the very least, he'd make his point clear with a blow or two and a cutting edge remark. Especially if they are a Lannister. He enjoys you being admired, but only to a certain extent.

"Your efforts are wasted, they’re far too captivating for someone like you. I’d suggest you find someone more... suited to your charms." He begins, hand itching for his spear, "Consider this your first and last warning."

Yeah, he means business.

Most of the time, he spins the situation to show-off. Showcase his own passion and devotion to you. If it's simply a friend of yours, he may even offer them to join in. If not, he'll spend the entire night practically worshipping you, promising that he's the only one who could ever make you feel like this.

Similarly to Margaery, he teases you lightly.

"You have a lovely laugh. But I must admit, it’s much better when it’s for me alone."

Oberyn doesn't shy away from PDA either. It's that assertive reclaiming he seems to favor, pulling you close, whispering something that affirms your affections for each other. He'll revel when he watches the other mans face fall in dismay.

He might get cocky, and push it a bit far. By the time he's done, the 'competition' will be utterly humiliated and embarrassed. He'll be smirking at his own quips.

"I assure you, my friend, my lover favors...more substantial things." He motions to the poor mans crotch.

You're gonna have to give him a slap on the arm.

𝐶𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸𝐼 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “Consequence of loving me can be cruel.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Cersei's jealousy is intense and multifaceted, to say the least. It manifests in a mix of cold fury and harsh threats, channeling that anger into much more controlling behavior.

Deep down, she is terribly insecure. Once another man or woman as your attention, and she catches on, she's coolly lashing out. And she catches on quickly.

At first she may appear indifferent, but if you look close enough, you can see the subtly giveaways. The way her lip curls, her nostrils flare, and her knuckles go white gripping her wine chalice.

If you're the first one to confront her, and attempt to reassure her, you'll save yourself some trouble down the line. Guaranteed, she'll deny it, but still make a passive-aggressive remark here and there. But eventually she'll calm down, edges softening.

That rare moment of vulnerability that you're not sure is manipulation or not. She'll look towards the ground, running her thumb over you're hand on her cheek. She'll sit on the edge of her bed, jaw clenched.

Now, it's a whole different story if you don't catch on to the early signs. If you don't manage to reassure or call her out in time, that jealousy implodes.

She may confront you first, anger bleeding through her. She runs on it. She may even threaten you, oblivious to the potential consequences her words might have.

“You think you can charm your way into my affections by paying attention to that little fool?" She's standing up, loathing distorting her features. Her voice raises. "Perhaps I should throw a feast in her honor. Let’s see how charming she is when surrounded by my people."

It's threats and threats and more and more threats...which can be especially worrying if the person she's jealous of is a friend of yours.

Almost every scenario ends with you having to comfort her, treading carefully with the words you say.

Now, when it comes to confronting the competition, she makes it very clear. Though, these threats are often much more impulsive. A swig of wine, and she gracefully moves towards them when you're out of sight.

A faux compliment or two, before she whispers, close.

“You’ll find that my guards are quite loyal to me. A simple command, and they’ll ensure you never breathe the same air as her again.”

It only makes her feel a bit better. But, regardless, she's smiling smugly, feeling proud of herself when the offenders face turns white.

𝐽𝛰𝐹𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑌 𝐵𝐴𝑅𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸𝛰𝑁

♫ “Too much love can kill.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh, Joffrey. I'm obsessed with him.

Yeah. He has the worst jealousy issues out of everyone on this list. It's baaaaad. It's a cocktail of insecurity, possessiveness, and entitlement. As someone who has been raised to believe he is above others, and has been coddled his entire life...it infuriates him.

It's the same feeling you get as a child, when someone steals one of your toys. You belong to him. He never grew out of that mentality, or that feeling.

Be prepared for plentiful outbursts of anger. He's a tantrum personified, especially if he feels disrespected. Insecurity grips him tight and refuses to let up until he's either been heavily reassured...or the other person is... taken care of.

And even then, after reassuring him for hours, it may not be enough. You know how he hired a knight to take out Tyrion in the Battle of Blackwater? Yeah. That person will be paid a little 'visit.'

When reassuring him, similar to Cersei, you really have to be careful what you say, or it might make the situation even worse. At that point, he's seeing red.

"I’m the king! You should be grateful for my attention, not chasing after scraps!" He's huffing, pointing to himself as his breathing increases. He'll look at you with an ice cold glare, nose wrinkled in distaste.

He might even force his hand around your face, harshly grabbing you. He looks dead into your eyes, voice clear and low. "You're mine. You belong to me." He's seething.

If he notices you simply looking at anyone else too long, he'll feel beyond threatened in both his masculinity and position as king. Especially if you laugh at another mans jokes, or simply attempt to be friendly with a commoner or lord.

"What’s so amusing? You’d think you’d find better entertainment than that fool." He mutters under his breath harshly, bad habit of picking at his fingers. He'll shuffle uncomfortably. He'll look to you expecting agreeance. It's 100% that mentality of 'Friends? You don't need friends. You have me.'

Yeah, he keeps the very blunt insults coming. Petulant name calling is not above him. Includes, but is not limited too, "Degenerates, Idiots, Commoners, Peasants, or Cretins" which he may describe as being "Stupid, Disgusting, Repellent, Sickening, or Revolting." He's got a LOT of those angry remarks in the bank.

While he may not directly confront the offender, (he doesn't have time for idle threats.) He has his own ways of dealing with them. And that is a public humiliation ritual, making a mockery of any rival. And if they disobey ANY whim of his, they're gone. That one scene with Tyrion at his wedding? That "Kneel!"? He's commanding the same of any man unlucky enough to have threatened his claim on you. Oh, and they're going to be his cupbearer.

Even if they do as he asks, by now his anger will have transformed into that renewed sense of cruelty. "You're fingers or your tongue?...Or I could just cut your throat."

𝑅𝐴𝑀𝑆𝐴𝑌 𝐵𝛰𝐿𝑇𝛰𝑁

♫ “You're gonna suffer now, whatever you do.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

His jealousy may not be as overtly intense as Joffrey's, but it certainly is the scariest.

In his own words, he prefers being an only child. That same kind of mentality certainly carries over to his relationship with you. He prefers to be the only one you see that way.

He loves a good game, and that's what this is. If anything, it's quite exhilarating for him. Though, he is a huge hypocrite. For a man who thinks jealousy is boring coming from you, he feels it quite freely.

Sees it as a means of asserting dominance, whether that be through intimidation or overt manipulation. He doesn't deny it like most characters on this list. When he's feeling jealous, he says it. It's a small warning for you not to go any farther, lest worse things occur for you or the perceived threat.

He'll go up to whoever you are talking too, saccharine and honorable smile on his face. He'll casually interrupt, introducing himself as Lord Bolton's successor. Despite his calm demeanor, there is a tightness in his face, and a wicked look in his eyes, that only you can recognize. It will make you shiver.

If the rival persists, he'll find it all too amusing.

"You're bold, I'll give you that." He says with a boisterous laugh, and you already know the mans fate is sealed.

Looks like his hounds will be having another meal tonight. He'll have his men go out looking for the man, and he'll question him more...privately, when you aren't there to witness his tortuous taunts.

But for now, his focus is on you, and your loyalty to him. When he excuses the both of you, his hand is gripping yours painfully tight.

By the time you're in his chamber, he's on you, ripping your clothes off with a harsh intensity and pushing you to the wall. His nose is twitching in barely kept anger, forcing you to look at him.

We all saw that scene between him and Myranda when she threatens to marry someone else, and it was not pretty. His eyes are borderline bloodshot, and he can't keep his hands off you or your throat.

"You're mine." He leans forward, through gritted teeth. It's better you don't put up a fight, because he'll be having you and your attention one way or another.

Que the numerous kisses and bite marks soon to follow. And he is not gentle when he's inside you.

You'll never hear from the flirtatious lord again...and if you do, it's only in the prayers of his grieving family.

𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐼𝛰𝑁 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “My love, you are not safe with me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Now, Tyrion's jealousy is more subdued and introspective versus some characters on this list. He has a good sense of self-awareness, and he's intelligent to figure out what he's feeling quite quickly.

At first he'll dismiss it as nothing more than an annoying feeling of insecurity he attempts to cover up. But...it doesn't last long. Especially when someone else makes you laugh. Or when Bronn makes a taunt with a half smirk, that some other fancy lord has taken a keen interest in his lady. (Bronn, you instigator!)

As such, Tyrion resorts to his usual humor to deflect any unpleasant feelings he may have when he's jealous. Similar to his brother, these witty remarks are are subtle intimidation technique, meant to dryly convey his displeasure.

"Ah, the sound of laughter. How quaint. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to earn your amusement." He forces a smile, masking his discomfort. "I didn’t realize I was competing for the title of Court Jester."

These feelings of inadequacy manifest in more self-deprecating ways for Tyrion, given his anger is more controlled. He might opt to drown his sorrows, so don't be surprised if you catch him drunkenly waving his chalice around, doing poor impressions of the so-called-lord that had your attention.

This doesn't mean he won't confront the rival, though. Quite the opposite. While he won't seek the man out, (For his sake, he isn't privy to seeing the tall handsome lord in person. He's not a masochist.) If he happens to come across him flirting with you first hand, or sees him during a feast, he'll make sure to throw one or two gibes out there.

"Desperation looks unflattering on you, my friend. Perhaps you should tone it down a notch." He speaks carefully, nodding to Bronn as a subtle warning. "Or at least the best you can manage..?"

If the rival flirts with you blatantly and in front of him, I can 100% imagine him putting them down. After a flirtatious remark directed towards you, he'll make a dry comment, "Flattery is wasted on me, but do go on; I’m always entertained by those who think they can win my affection." As if it was directed towards him. Probably shuts the man up for a moment.

When the two of you are alone, he'd be very grateful if you could just hold him. Give him that reassurance he craves when his carefree facade breaks. That moment of vulnerability means the world to him.

𝑆𝐴𝑁𝐷𝛰𝑅 "𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝛰𝑈𝑁𝐷" 𝐶𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “I need you to go, don't fight me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Listen up, Sandor doesn't take shit.

Jealousy isn't an emotion Sandor is particularly used too. In fact, he didn't think he'd find anyone to love in his lifetime, so the feeling is foreign and unpleasant. And, like a mean dog, Sandor's first reaction is to growl.

He doesn't like it. Says it's constricting, and it pisses him off. Not just the pretty boy lord flirting with you, but the whole situation in general. Makes him feel vulnerable, and weak.

Naturally, his first reaction is to distance himself. He may avoid you, grumbling, spitting out vile and vulgar comments to get you to run with your tail between your legs. It's better for the both of you that way.

"You think they’re worth your time? Just a pretty smile to distract you?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "You could do better. But then again, you always choose to suffer." He motions at himself, and it's a glimpse of that self-depreciation he buries.

But you love him for a reason, and you know that won't end well. Best way to handle him when he's jealous is to be gentle, and to listen.

He doesn't want empty reassurances. He's complicated that way, even if they are genuine. He isn't one for flowery words or overt displays of emotion, so the best way to comfort him would be to give him some space, but continue to take care of him.

It will still frustrate him, but eventually he'll cave. He'll rejoin you, silently, eventually. Won't offer any apologies, but maybe a gruff nod, and you two will commence whatever it is you two have.

In future instances, he becomes much more brutally honest with how he feels. Doesn't sugarcoat it. If he doesn't like someone, even if they are a friend, he expects them gone- or he'll take care of them regardless. That kind of possessive behavior is just something you'll have to work through.

I can imagine him silently brooding if he witnesses someone flirting with you first hand. Typically his size and reputation is enough to scare whoever away. He's looming over them, eyes dark, and ready to defend what's his.

When you take your leave, he'll confront the person with a very explicit threat or two.

"If you don’t back off, I’ll find a nice dark corner to stuff you in- preferably with a pile of shit." Or, "Get any closer, and I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it down your throat."

𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “Get swallowed by the weight.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aemond has the most...complex jealousy out of everyone on this list. It's layered, and the outcome may be unpredictable. It's an emotional and volatile nature that's been building up for years since he was a child.

He often had feelings of jealousy for his brother, his nephews, etc. That trauma is deeply rooted in him, and it's hard to let go of old habits, given it's been present all his life.

You'll watch his head bow in distaste when you make small conversation with other lords. How his eye will gaze at you, almost warningly. His jaw will be clenched tight, and he'll avoid eye contact, looking off to the side in anger. He doesn't want to watch.

If it's a friend of yours, he can be a bit mean, questioning your loyalty a bit harshly.

"Friendship? Is that what you call it?" He speaks, angrily. A thinly veiled threat is directed to you, "It seems more like a prelude to betrayal."

He'll brood in the corner, silently waiting. That is, unless, he deems the man goes too far.

In the scene where he gets his eye put out by Lucerys, the conversation that starts before it happens pretty much sums his jealousy up. He's firm with his claim to Vaghar, and the same goes for you.

When Rhaena states that Vaghar was hers to claim, Aemond responds in kind, "Then you should've claimed her." And puts up a hell of a fight to prove his point. That same possessiveness carries over to his relationship with you. He doesn't back down. You're his.

He has no problems getting in between you and the man he feels threatened of. He offers a blunt threat.

"I could have you torn apart, limb by limb, and I’d sleep soundly at night. Be certain of that."

Guaranteed, mixed feelings of insecurity will rise to the surface. When you two are alone, he'll continue to brood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and body language tight.

Please do reassure him. He needs it. His eye will soften, and he'll place his hand over yours, leaning into your touch. With a soft huff of an air, a final warning slips past his lips.

"Don’t make me remind you why I’m the only one worthy of you."

𝐴𝐸𝐺𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “I wanna hold on tightly.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aegon handles jealousy poorly, much like he seems to handle everything else.

It's like throwing gasoline on a fire. Once that feeling in his chest flares up, it's shown through erratic behavior, sarcasm, and attempts to assert his claim in juvenile, insecure ways. Unlike his brother, he lacks the restraint to simply brood.

No, be prepared for plenty of mocking comments directed towards the man he's threatened of, and showy displays to prove he's the better choice.

Everyone knows he is unpredictable and reckless, and possessiveness drives him to act out. He certainly overindulges to cope with his insecurity, (getting shitfaced) and will gladly push your boundaries to get your attention back on him.

Not to mention the belittling comments he'll make.

"Oh, is that who you’ve chosen to entertain now? I didn’t realize your taste had grown so dull."

Prone to acting overtly clingy, almost like a restless cat. He will attempt to slide over into the conversation, resting an arm around you, or even pulling you away. He doesn't care if it's 'improper.' He probably brings up his status, his bloodline, acting over-the-top.

He's also no stranger to outbursts. His temper may make him lash out impulsively, whether that be towards you or the man whose got your attention. If he's in a particular mood, be ready to deal with a screaming Aegon, threatening to slaughter and burn said rival. His fist will come down hard on the council table.

He also doesn't care if he's making a show of it in front of the council members. Que Alicent or Otto attempting to placate him. He needs to have a cooler head if he's going to be ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and this type of behavior isn't very becoming.

He definitely thinks he's owed some make-up sex, if only to quell the insecure storm raging inside him.

"You think they could satisfy you? Truly?" He says, firmly, as he steps closer. Anger is burning in his words, volume raising. "They wouldn’t even know where to begin."

And he plans to show you that he's right.

𝐴𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “I'm afraid I'll pull you over the edge.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Alicent experiences jealousy complexly, just like Aemond. It gnaws on her until she's at her breaking point. Rather than overt displays or confrontations, she attempts to employ more strategic distance...but it always ends up resorting in icy politeness.

She's making her displeasure known through restrained, pointed remarks. Out of duty and pride, she'll attempt to avoid direct confrontation, but she wears her jealousy on her sleeve.

I imagine her withdrawing from the situation at first, if not for anything but her own sake. Her gut reaction, out of insecurity, is to escape the situation. It honestly makes her feel sick.

Unless she's forced to stay...then she'll begrudgingly offer a tight smile. Her responses are carefully measured, and she slips into that role of "queen" rather than a lover.

A part of it stems from passive aggressiveness, and another part of it is purely subconscious.

Speaking of passive aggressiveness, she'll make some pretty cutting remarks, either questioning your loyalty or purposely feigning ignorance to the situation.

"Perhaps I’m mistaken. But I know loyalty when I see it. Or when I don’t."

It's an all bark, no bite threat towards you. But it serves as an aggressive reminder of your connection with her, and that you are now apart of her duties.

If she does interfere beforehand, she'll make indirect remarks about the person causing her jealousy, but will most likely frame it as merely her own curiosity.

Maybe just a touch of self-depreciation, unintentional manipulation. Years of Otto's techniques have rubbed off on her.

"It’s of little consequence, truly. I simply thought I was the one you preferred to spend your time with. I may have misjudged."

𝐺𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑁𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “Hurts to say it over, over again.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

In contrast to Alicent, Gwayne has no problem when he feels threatened to step in. He's a member of a powerful house, and a knight no less. Those two things have taught him to be prideful and honorable.

He will defend your honor whenever he deems in necessary, and there are no exceptions. He certainly has a flash of a temper, but he believes he's much more restrained than others, given his training.

If he thinks someone is crossing a line, he'll interfere. He'll position himself quite closely to you, making his presence known.

He offers the man a silent warning, offering a cool, assessing look. It would be enough to communicate his disapproval.

And if the man persists...well...they'll end up with the end of a sword pointed at them.

Similar to Robb, Gwayne's jealousy appears more in his heightened protectiveness. He insists on staying close for your safety.

"Do they need to be reminded that you’re already spoken for?"

Obviously, his noble pride carries on. If he gets pushed, his jealousy will show more openly, taking the man aside, and telling them that he is more worthy of her time and attention. Might throw in a comment about his noble standing.

He'll take you aside when everything is said and done, reminding her his intentions are honorable. Everyone else is just...unworthy.

"You may not see it, but I know men like him. If he truly respected you, he wouldn’t need to linger around someone else’s beloved."

𝐷𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ "No matter how you feel." Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh boy, you'll have to keep this man on a tight leash when his jealousy flares up. It's as intense as he is, and he shows it openly.

He'll deny it, or embrace it, depending on the severity of the perceived offense. It's closely tied to that desire for power within him he can't seem to shake. Any affront to your loyalty is an affront to his own standing.

He switches from possessive protectiveness to outright hostility. There's really no in between. It's a raw and unfiltered fury that makes his hand shake and his eye twitch.

He doesn't tolerate rivals, and he's very upfront that he's the only one fit to be by your side. This comes through when he has you all to himself on his bed...

He'll confront the person whether you want him to or not.

"If they value their limbs, they’d remember you’re mine." He mutters casually, pacing around the room.

He carries that hard glint in his eyes. He may even mildly appreciate the sheer balls of the man stupid enough to attempt to flirt with you, but he'll shut it down quicker than anyone on this list.

"You’ve got a bold tongue. I wonder if I should cut it out..?" He'll look to you for permission. It's up to you if you wanna let the dragon loose!

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (royal wedding)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen (+Aemond Targaryen?)

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: aegon is jealous

- Next part: honeymoon

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

- A/N: The last part was skipping from present to past. I forgot to mention that. It has been fixed now.

The grand hall of the Red Keep has never looked so splendid. Golden tapestries hang from the walls, catching the light from the myriad of candles that bathe the room in a warm, shimmering glow. The floors are strewn with rich red and gold carpets, their colors a perfect match for the union taking place today—a union that has the blood of the dragon and the wealth of the lion entwined.

Your wedding to King Aegon II is nothing short of a spectacle. All of the nobility of Westeros is in attendance, their finery dazzling, but none more so than the families of the bride and groom. The Hightowers and the Lannisters are well represented, their seats in the front rows filled with dignified faces that watch every movement with keen interest.

At the head of it all stands Aegon, his usually unruly silver hair smoothed back for the occasion, though he still carries that familiar smirk as if he's already thinking about the revelry that will follow. He’s dressed in a regal black and red ensemble that reflects his Targaryen heritage, but with touches of gold embroidery—no doubt a nod to your Lannister lineage. As you approach down the aisle, his eyes are fixed solely on you, and his smirk softens into something more genuine, more admiring.

You, in turn, glide down the aisle with all the grace expected of a Lannister bride. Your gown is a masterpiece, shimmering gold and crimson silk, with intricate embroidery that mimics the flames of dragons and the roaring lions of your house. The entire court seems to hold its breath as you make your way toward Aegon, your steps light and confident, a smile playing at your lips.

Behind you, your uncles, the infamous Lannister twins, Tyland and Jason, follow with their usual contrasting expressions. Tyland, ever the composed and political one, watches the proceedings with an air of satisfaction, knowing how well this match bodes for the Lannister name. Jason, on the other hand, appears more relaxed, casting admiring glances around the hall and clearly enjoying the pomp and grandeur of it all. He leans over to Tyland at one point, whispering something, likely a comment on the opulence of the Red Keep, which Tyland responds to with a curt nod, his face impassive.

At the altar, Dowager Queen Alicent stands beside Otto Hightower, her father, both of them watching the ceremony with varying degrees of restraint. Alicent’s expression is one of controlled politeness, though there’s a tightness around her eyes that betrays her discomfort. She still hasn’t entirely warmed to the idea of her beloved son marrying someone who so effortlessly draws his attention away from her. Otto, however, seems entirely pleased, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if mentally counting the alliances being forged today.

Aemond stands beside his brother, his face a mask of impassivity, though you know him well enough by now to catch the faint flicker of amusement in his eye. No doubt he finds the spectacle of Aegon getting married as something of an ironic twist, considering how hard Aegon fought to maintain his so-called "freedom." Aemond’s hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword, as always, a silent reminder of his ever-watchful nature.

Helaena is there too, her dreamy expression focused on something far beyond the festivities, though she smiles softly when you pass her by. She’s dressed in a lovely gown of pale blue, her hair adorned with delicate silver ornaments shaped like butterflies. She murmurs something to herself, perhaps a quiet blessing for your future, though it’s impossible to tell for sure.

As you finally reach Aegon’s side, the High Septon Eustace begins the ceremonial words, his voice echoing through the hall. You can feel the eyes of the court on you, but your focus remains on Aegon, who is staring at you with a look that’s equal parts admiration and barely restrained mischief. His hand, warm and steady, slips into yours as you both face the High Septon, the weight of the crown on your head a constant reminder of the power this union represents.

“Do you, Aegon Targaryen, take Y/N of House Lannister to be your lawful wife, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” the High Septon intones.

Aegon’s grin spreads wide across his face, a flash of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I do,” he says, his voice rich with confidence, though there’s a playful edge to it that makes it clear he’s already thinking of what comes after the ceremony.

“And do you, Y/N of House Lannister, take Aegon Targaryen to be your lawful husband, to honor and stand beside, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

You meet Aegon’s gaze, the room around you momentarily fading as you reply, “I do.”

The High Septon raises his hands in blessing, proclaiming you husband and wife, and the hall erupts in applause. Aegon, ever the dramatic, doesn’t wait for the formal conclusion before leaning in to kiss you, his hands cupping your face as if you’re the only person in the room. The kiss is bold, full of the reckless passion Aegon is known for, and the court watches with varying degrees of approval and amusement.

Tyland and Jason exchange glances, Jason stifling a chuckle while Tyland remains impassive, though his eyes gleam with pride. They know the political weight of this match—House Lannister is now further entwined with the crown, and their power has only grown.

Alicent, however, watches the display with barely concealed annoyance, her lips pressed into a tight smile. She claps politely, though there’s a stiffness to her movements, a reminder that, in her mind, no one could ever truly be good enough for her precious son. Otto, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased, his eyes flicking toward Alicent as if to gauge her reaction, though he remains composed.

Aemond watches the kiss with a raised brow, a flicker of bemusement crossing his features. He shifts slightly, as though resisting the urge to roll his eye, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

The rest of the court stands, applauding as you and Aegon turn to face them, now husband and wife. You can feel the weight of expectation on your shoulders, but you stand tall, regal, with Aegon by your side. The cheers of the courtiers fill the hall, a cacophony of voices celebrating your union, and for a moment, it feels as though you and Aegon have already won over the entire kingdom.

As the feast begins, Jason Lannister raises his goblet in a loud toast. “To King Aegon and his golden bride! May their union bring strength to the realm!” His voice booms across the hall, earning cheers and nods of approval from the Lannisters in attendance.

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity to revel in attention, raises his own goblet and smirks at you. “And may she forever spoil me with her affection, wine, and… other delights.”

The court erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too, casting a glance at Aemond, whose eye twitches in amusement, though he’s quick to hide it behind another sip of wine.

The night is long, filled with feasting, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as alliances are silently solidified with every toast. And as the evening draws on, you and Aegon bask in the glow of your new roles—King and Queen, dragon and lion, forever entwined in the history of Westeros.

The grand feast is in full swing. Laughter echoes off the vaulted ceilings of the Red Keep’s great hall, the clink of goblets and the shuffle of servants bringing more trays of roasted meats, fruits, and breads filling the space. At the high table, you sit next to Aegon, who is already well on his way to being pleasantly drunk. His cheeks are flushed, his laughter a little too loud, and every so often, he leans in to whisper something entirely inappropriate in your ear—something about what he intends to do later, no doubt—but you smile and nod, indulging him.

Across the table, Helaena sits quietly, her dreamy eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight as if it holds secrets only she can see. She picks absentmindedly at her plate, her fingers twirling a piece of bread like it's a delicate piece of embroidery. You catch her eye and smile warmly.

"Helaena," you say softly, leaning toward her, "are you enjoying the feast?"

She blinks, her gaze shifting to you as if coming back to the present from some distant dream. Her lips curve into a small, sweet smile. "It’s beautiful," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the butterflies… they’re dancing too close to the fire."

You pause, tilting your head, unsure whether she’s speaking in metaphors or if this is just one of Helaena’s usual cryptic musings. Either way, you smile back. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the butterflies, then.”

She giggles softly, her fingers finally releasing the bread as she takes a sip from her goblet. There’s something endearing about Helaena, her quiet innocence standing in contrast to the rowdy festivities around her. You find her company refreshing—though you’re well aware that others find her eccentric nature unsettling.

As you pour another cup of wine for Aegon, who is now thoroughly engaged in a one-sided conversation with Ser Criston about something involving dragons (though Criston’s blank stare suggests he’s only pretending to listen), you feel a sharp gaze on you. Without even looking, you know it’s Alicent.

You glance up to find her watching you with that familiar tight-lipped expression of disapproval. Her hands are clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate the way you cater to Aegon’s whims, particularly when it involves filling his goblet over and over. But tonight, she says nothing, her lips pressed into a thin, sour line as she watches you with silent judgment.

You flash her a smile, sweet as honey, and deliberately pour Aegon’s cup a little fuller than necessary, making sure the wine sloshes right to the rim. He grins up at you with a sloppy, grateful smile, lifting his goblet with an exaggerated flourish.

“Ah, my perfect queen!” Aegon slurs, raising the cup in a toast that sends a bit of wine splashing over the side. “Always knows exactly what I need.”

You pat his hand and nod, biting back a laugh. “Yes, my love. Always.”

Alicent’s expression tightens even further, but she still says nothing, clearly choosing to hold her tongue rather than cause a scene at such a grand occasion. Her frustration, however, is palpable.

With Aegon now thoroughly distracted by his wine and the increasingly nonsensical conversation with Ser Criston, you take the opportunity to slip away for a moment. The noise of the feast dulls slightly as you move toward the quieter end of the hall, where Aemond stands, ever the watchful observer, his gaze scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey. He doesn’t sit—Aemond never seems to relax the way Aegon does. Instead, he stands with a goblet of wine in hand, his tall frame as rigid and poised as ever.

As you approach, he glances at you, his single eye cool but alert, that faint smirk already playing on his lips as if he knows exactly why you’ve come.

“Your husband looks quite… spirited this evening,” Aemond says, his voice low and smooth. His gaze flickers to where Aegon is now halfway through another story, clearly embellishing the details for the benefit of anyone still bothering to listen.

You chuckle, standing beside him, your fingers brushing the stem of your own goblet. “Yes, well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it? A wedding and an endless supply of wine—it’s a dangerous combination for Aegon.”

Aemond’s lips twitch with amusement. “Dangerous for him, perhaps. More tiresome for the rest of us.”

You raise your goblet slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. “I suppose you’re used to enduring such… tiresome things, aren’t you, Aemond?”

His eye narrows slightly, a knowing glint in it. “I endure what I must. Though some things…” He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction longer than necessary, “are more tolerable than others.”

You hum in response, your lips curving into a small, playful smile. “How kind of you to say. And here I thought you preferred your solitude over any company.”

Aemond sips his wine, his eye never leaving yours. “Solitude has its merits. But there are certain… exceptions.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, subtle but unmistakable. You glance back toward Aegon, who is now attempting to stand, swaying slightly as he raises his goblet in yet another toast, clearly drunk beyond reason. The sight is both amusing and pitiful, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your new husband. But at the same time, the pull of Aemond’s presence is undeniable, the tension between you two thickening with every passing second.

“And would I be one of those exceptions?” you ask softly, turning your attention back to Aemond. Your tone is light, teasing, but there’s a sharper edge beneath it.

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his gaze darkening as he lowers his goblet. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You already know the answer to that.”

Your heart quickens, but you keep your expression neutral, unwilling to give too much away. This dance between you and Aemond has been ongoing for some time—never spoken of directly, never acted upon, but always there, clawing just beneath the surface. And tonight, with Aegon too drunk to notice, the tension feels sharper than ever.

Before you can respond, Aegon’s voice cuts through the room, loud and slurred. “Y/N! Where are you, my queen? Come! We must… celebrate!”

You bite back a laugh, casting Aemond a glance that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Duty calls,” you say, stepping away with a sigh.

Aemond’s eye follows you as you move back toward Aegon, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like a silent promise.

[br0kenangel]

𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰.

The door opened without a knock, and in strode your eldest son, Aegon. His expression was one of barely contained fury, his mouth set in a hard line. He wore the black and red of his house, his silver hair shining in the light.

You didn’t rise or greet him formally. Instead, you took a slow sip of your wine, watching him like a cat watches a mouse caught in a trap.

“Mother,” he said, his voice sharp and clipped.

“Aegon,” you replied coolly, setting your goblet down with a faint clink. “Come, sit. You look as if you’ve been chewing on a sour lemon.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared slightly as he sat across from you. His jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists.

“What did he do this time? Has your father’s wisdom left you choking on your own tongue?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s not wisdom he’s choking on. He’s a fool if he thinks Rhaenyra’s claim will hold this kingdom together. He’s determined to throw it all to the wolves. And for what? His precious daughter?”

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair, the wood creaking under the pressure. “He still insists on keeping Rhaenyra as his heir,” he spat, his voice brimming with frustration. “Despite all the signs—despite the whispers in the court, despite the tension between the lords—he clings to this foolish notion that she will unite the realm.”

You tilted your head, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Ah, the great dreamer, your father. One might think he’s convinced himself he lives in one of his old songs about gallant knights and wise queens.”

“Dreams,” Aegon spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he stalked toward the window, glaring out at the city below. “Dreams won’t stop the realm from tearing itself apart. His stubbornness is going to ruin us all.”

You arched an eyebrow and tilted your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Tell me, my dear, what’s worse: a king who refuses to see reason or a son who insists on treating every disagreement like a declaration of war?”

“I need to act, Mother,” Aegon growled. “The realm is on the verge of breaking apart, and he’s too blind to see it.”

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on your fingers. “And how do you propose to fix this? Drag him from his throne by the scruff of his neck? That would be quite a sight.”

He glared at you, though there was no real malice in his eyes. “This isn’t a jest.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied smoothly. “But sometimes, my son, the truth is so absurd that the only thing left to do is laugh.”

Aegon’s eyes snapped back to you, sharp as daggers. “I am declaring war,” he said, his tone dangerous. “War on stupidity. Father is leaving our family vulnerable. The lords see weakness, and weakness is blood in the water. They will turn on us the moment Rhaenyra takes the throne.”

You laughed softly, amused by his intensity. “Oh, Aegon. Always so dramatic.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “You think the lords will rise for her? The only thing these men rise for is power. Offer them that, and they will forget who was promised what. It’s always the same song, my son. Play the right tune, and they will dance to your music.”

Aegon clenched his fists at his sides, the tension rolling off him in waves. “The music won’t matter if Father continues to shield her with his blind loyalty. He treats her like she’s untouchable, like the gods themselves have chosen her to rule.”

“Ah, yes, the gods,” you said dryly, waving a dismissive hand. “A convenient excuse for poor decision-making. If we all did what the gods wanted, we’d be living in rags and begging for scraps. No, Aegon, the gods don’t care for the affairs of men. This game, this fight for the throne—it belongs to us. It always has.”

Aegon paced in front of you, his mind racing. “And yet, here I am, watching as the realm slips through my fingers because my father insists on upholding his dying legacy. Rhaenyra is weakness. She’ll tear the kingdom apart the moment she’s crowned, and he refuses to see it.”

“Your father has always been a romantic at heart,” you said with a sigh. “He’s clinging to the idea that love and family will prevail over politics. A fool’s hope, if ever there was one.”

“Fool,” Aegon muttered under his breath, his frustration clear.

You regarded him with a look that was equal parts admiration and exasperation. “Just as I expected,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Aegon furrowed his brow. “What?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. I'm just proud of my son. Ruthless, cold, but oh so clever.”

He blinked, unsure if you were complimenting him or insulting him.

You leaned back, your voice turning serious now. “Aegon, you have ambition, that much is clear. And yes, your father’s decision may well lead to war. But wars are not won by anger and frustration. They are won by strategy, by waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“I don’t have time to wait,” Aegon said through gritted teeth. “If we delay, we will lose support. The longer Rhaenyra remains the heir, the more dangerous she becomes.”

You smirked. “Dangerous? Rhaenyra? The woman has more soft edges than the pillows on my bed.”

“She’s dangerous because of the people around her,” Aegon snapped. “Daemon, Corlys, and all those who would see her on the throne. They will turn the realm against us.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Daemon is certainly a problem. And Corlys…well, his stupidity is only matched by his ego. But you are right. The lords will not stay loyal to Rhaenyra for long if they sense weakness.”

Aegon looked at you, his eyes sharp and determined. “Then we need to act.”

You held up a hand. “Calm yourself, boy. This isn’t a tavern brawl. You must act carefully, deliberately. There’s a difference between being strong and being reckless. Don’t be such a child about it.”

Aegon’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I’m not a child.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Then stop acting like one, stamping your feet because your father won’t do as you wish. He won’t change his mind, Aegon. He’s too proud and too stubborn, just like you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Listen, Aegon. I raised you to be a ruler, not a brute. You must understand the importance of timing. Your father will not change his mind easily, but he is not your true enemy. The lords, the people—they are the ones you must win over.”

“And what would you have me do, Mother?”

You gave him a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “You show them that you are the only one who can protect them. You play the part of the dutiful son, for now. Let your father continue with his dream. But when the time comes—and it will come—you make sure the realm sees you as the only viable option. The lords are like sheep. They will follow the strongest shepherd.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels in his mind turning. “I can steady it,”

You smiled. “I know. And you will. But you have to be patient. Anger makes for terrible decisions.”

“I have no patience left for Father’s foolishness,” Aegon muttered.

“Then let him be foolish,” you replied coolly. “Let him play his hand. And when the time is right, we’ll play ours.”

“And what if the time never comes?” Aegon asked, his voice low, full of doubt.

You smiled, leaning back once more. “Oh, it will. It always does.”

Aegon stood there for a moment, visibly wrestling with himself, before he let out a long breath and sat down across from you. “You’ve always had more faith in my future than I have.”

“I trained you for this, didn’t I?” you said dryly. “I didn’t raise a fool. Nor did I raise a man who lets his temper dictate his choices. You should know that the moment you act out of rage, you’ve already lost.”

Aegon’s lips twitched, the tension in the room easing slightly. “So, I’m to be the calm one, while everyone else runs around like fools?”

“You are to be the calm storm,” you corrected. “Let them think you’re passive, let them underestimate you. The realm is full of fools, but we are not among them.”

Aegon finally allowed himself a small, grim smile. “You’re far more ruthless than anyone may think, Mother.”

You raised your goblet in a mock toast. “I take that as a compliment.”

He nodded, his resolve clearly strengthening. “I’ll bide my time, then. But when the time comes—”

“When the time comes,” you interrupted smoothly, “you’ll be ready. And the realm will kneel to you, as it should.”

Aegon stood, the weight of your words settling comfortably on his shoulders. “I’ll see to it.”

You watched him head toward the door, then called after him. “Aegon.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

“Don’t be afraid to smile,” you added with a wicked smirk. “It unsettles people when a king looks like he’s already won.”

Aegon chuckled, a rare sound, but one that left the room with more tension released than when he’d entered.

As he left, you leaned back in your chair, sipping your wine and staring out the window again. The game had been in motion for years, and your son had finally learned how to play it.

“Well,” you murmured to yourself, “this should be interesting.”

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 5

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[xxnymeriatargaryenxx]

imagine getting your 🐱 ate on these stairs omggg or being bent over 🔥🔥

[getyouanearthygirl]

Game of Thrones House Aesthetics:

House Stark 🐺

House Lannister 🦁

House Arryn 🪽

House Tyrell 🌹

House Martell ☀️

House Baratheon 🦌

House Tully 🐟

House Targaryen 🐉

House Greyjoy 🦑

[errruvande]

Sending them a spicy picture modern HC

Summery: while he's on a important meeting and you are bored alone at home, you decided to send him a spicy picture

Included characters: Green Small Council: Aegon II, Aemond, Tyland, Larys, Otto

A/N: this is my first piece for HotD, I hope it's more or less in character 👉🏻👈🏻

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated in this house 🥹

Aegon didn't bother to put his phone on silent when the meeting started, so when he received a message from you, everyone in the room lifted their heads and stared at him. He was rightfully bored and empty-headed, absolutely unbothered by all the discussions, playing with decorative marbled sphere right until he clicked on the message from you.

He lifted the phone from the table and swiped the notification to almost jump on his seat, awestruck. This Aegon-branded stupid wide smile stretched on his face while he stared eagerly at the screen of his phone. You were naked, only covering the much desired parts of your body with a thin, almost see-through material.

[new message from Aegon: fuck... Fuck fuck fuck, can you bend a little?? For me?? Cause my cock is hard already but I haven't seen your wet cunt still...]

Aegon giggled and bit his lip, typing how he'd have fucked you right now and that his cock is already hard by just looking at you. Every single person on the meeting saw his tongue slither through his teeth.

[new message from Aegon: fuck it, I'm going home!]

Aegon stood up from his seat, his pants uncomfortably tight for everyone to notice. As a main player, who has inherited the company after his father's death, he vaguely waved his hands and told everyone to go, the meeting has ended. He wanted to fuck you and he was more than just delighted that you wanted it too.

When he burst through the door of your apartment and found you lying spread on the bed, toy in hand, he felt wholeheartedly smug about it. He joined you immediately, tugging his pants and trousers down and leaving them on the floor.

"You know how to make my day worth living, baby" was the last word Aegon spoke before sliding between your thighs.

Aemond lowered his gaze at the vibrating phone, expression on his face didn't change from a solid rock seriousness and scorn. He hated everyone in the room. He turned the phone, screen up, and checked the notifications.

[New message from "my queen": picture]

Eyeing everyone in the room, he looked down and swiped the notification. His jaw clenched and lips screwed. He hated when you were doing it. He hated that he was getting hard in the middle of the important meeting. Aemond cruelly left you on "seen", turning his phone screen to the table, trying not to think about your wet thighs that were spread to the camera. It was adorable how after all these years you still tried to impress and catch his attention this way.

Not giving you any attention at the meeting, Aemond definitely decided to let you know everything what was on his mind as soon as he came home.

"I told you not to do so, didn't I" he was about to punish you for your disobedience, throwing you on the bed. "You like to play with fire, don't you? Give me your wet pussy then and water that fire down"

Larys was the horniest mothefucker you could possibly find in the RedKeep corp. There haven't been a day when he wasn't jerking off in the company toilets or in his office, flipping through some porn journals or, as it was that day, looking at your picture.

He peeked at his phone when the message came through and his posture straightened to tighten his pants around his hardening cock. The picture of you in the little cute lingerie with thin white knee socks on.

He didn't send back any text, but you knew exactly what he was doing right at that moment, and the thought of it made your insides warm with pleasure.

He slid the hand under the table to work though his own pants and trouser, wrapped his palm around his dick and started tugging on it. He knew his trouser will be all dirty in his cum. Did he cared? Absolutely fucking not. He tried not to be too smug about it, but every time he stroke his cock the lusting smile appeared on his face.

As he finished, he sent you a picture of his own, totally spent cock.

[new message from Larys: can you send another one in like 20 minutes????"]

Otto was the only member of the council that literally turns his phone off during the meeting. He was a goat at this game, going to his job to actually work. So he didn't know that you sent him anything right until the meeting had ended and he retired to his own office.

He turned on the phone and 5 notifications popped up.

[new message from "Y/N": picture]

[new message from "Y/N: ?????]

[new message from "Y/N": Don't you like it????]

[mew message from "Y/N": Otto????]

He opened the conversation and immediately drew in air sharply and smacked his lips. Otto wasn't particularly horny, so the picture itself wasn't a major turn on for him, it's not that his cock hardened just by looking at your absolutely drained wet panties. He smirked, typing words into the input window.

[new message from "Otto": Are you trying to be a naughty girl? Save your lust for a few hours, I'd be home soon and look at how you behave."]

Tyland wasn't a type to be easily distracted during the meetings, but being an attentive husband as he was, he couldn't resist the urge to check the notification from you when it popped up on the screen of his phone. What if it was an emergency?

In fact, it was an emergency. You wanted to fuck so bad you could literally die from the lust. As soon as Tyland clicked on the notification, he almost threw his phone on the table, screen down, and glanced around the room hectically. As he tried to gather his scattered thoughts, he took the phone and opened the conversation with you once more.

"delete this please" he started to type only to delete it afterwards. His face became red and hot as fire as his eyes kept wandering from the input window to your very intimate photo. "This is beyond words inappropriate, love" he typed again only to never send this one either.

He tried to remain calm and prudent, as he always was, but the pleasingly painful arousal already turned his abdomen into a knot. So he stared into the wall, not being able to listen to whatever proposals were suggested. He was too frightened to move, to tug on that string that has already been tight enough for him to breathe with caution, not to whimper or moan.

When the meeting ended, he rushed to his office, typing your name in his contacts.

"Love you know how embarrassed I was just a moment ago??? I..I couldn't find a place to hide, and they all were looking at me, and my face was probably too red for them not to notice it and do you mind sending another one???? You looked so pretty!"

Thank you for reading 💞

@bilbotargaryen idk I just think you might be interested in this mess lmao

[bumblesimagines]

Gold and Green

Request: Yes or No

Summary: To further secure the Lannisters to the Green's side, Otto Hightower arranges a marriage between his grandson, Aemond Targaryen, and the Lannister twins younger sister.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, arranged marriage trope, mentions of Targcest/incest, mentions of Luke's death, kinda short i wasn't sure what to do with this guy, fluff?

Took my time getting to this mf

~~~

Aemond hardly knew what to make of marriage life. 

He knew what one was expected to do as a couple: attend formal events, ensure both houses prevailed, and have many, many children to continue the bloodline. But, as he came to learn, he had little idea what to do outside of expectations.

No amount of histories or studying or even reading childish romantic tales told him how to be a husband, and he hardly had anyone to model what a proper and good lord-husband was supposed to look like. His father had hardly cared for his mother and his brother barely paid Helaena any attention outside of awkward, forced interactions. 

Aemond found it infuriating, simply put. He mastered everything he put his mind to. He'd claimed the biggest dragon in the world as a mere boy; lost an eye and replaced it with a sapphire; excelled in swordsmanship and combat; perfected the art of speaking, writing, and understanding High Valryian; studied the histories and listened to the septas dutifully to the point he could recall any tale down to the smallest of details. The perfect heir, if he had to be honest, but hardly anything that'd help him be a good husband. He refused to be like Aegon, refused to allow himself to steep down to his brother's level of indifference toward his sister-wife. 

His dear mother had been little help, merely telling him to 'be a kind and dutiful husband' when he questioned her, but he understood why she herself would have little experience knowing what a husband should look like. His grandsire simply told him to hurry and consummate the marriage once his wife's monthly blood had finished, to court her with gifts and such if he so wished. 

So, he gave his grandsire's advice a try and searched for a necklace befitting for a lioness of the west. 

"Wife," Aemond instinctively called into their shared bedchambers as he stepped inside, his single eye searching the room as the door slid shut behind him until he noticed her sitting on one of the couches. She looked beautiful, clad in the gold and red colors of House Lannister. He'd much prefer her in green but he hardly found it appropriate to push the subject when they barely spoke. Her handmaidens curtsied upon seeing him before resuming their tasks.

"Husband." (Y/N) responded in greeting, her tone somewhat monotone and attention largely focused on her embroidery. He understood why she and Helaena got along so easily, perhaps he should've inquired his sister instead. "How was your day, My Lord?"

"Busy, as always. War is on the horizon, I fear." He tried not to think about Lucerys, or the memory of watching bits and pieces of Arrax descend into the ocean. He'd meant to frighten him, humiliate him as he and his brother had done to him years prior, but he'd forgotten Vhagar wasn't a mere mindless creature nor a weapon he could control. She followed his orders because she wanted to, not because she had to. 

"Wasn't it always?" She asked, though it wasn't a question meant to be answered. A masked statement to avoid offending him. He knew what the courtiers whispered behind his back since his return from Storm's End. Kinslayer. A title spat and whispered with disdain because who would be cruel enough to kill their own blood?

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose and peered over her shoulder when a handmaiden poured steaming water into the tub. She stood up, handing her embroidery off to one dutiful handmaiden and smoothing out her dress with her hands. She stepped around the couch and strode toward her desk, her fingers raising to remove her earrings and set them aside. Her eyes flickered to his reflection in the mirror as he strode toward her, gently setting the silver box on the desk. 

"For you, My Lady." He murmured and took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back and watching her eye the box. (Y/N) opened it and hummed, trailing her finger over the necklace within. Gold, to resemble House Lannister, with a glimmering emerald in the center to resemble House Hightower. The union of their two houses, of their blood. "I hope it is to your liking." 

"It is quite beautiful, Husband. Thank you." She told him, unclipping the necklace around her neck and setting it down. His wife studied the gift, her eyes lingering on it for a moment longer before she turned toward her handmaidens and dismissed them with a wave of her hand. They finished their task swiftly and curtsied deeply before leaving the room. Aemond couldn't help but tilt his head. His wife still needed to prepare for the night. 

"Wife-"

"Help me undress, Husband." (Y/N) told him, striding toward the tub and casting a glance over her shoulder at him. Aemond followed silently and reached forward, carefully undoing the laces of her dress and helping her slide it off her body. His eye jumped away, out of respect and instinct but he forced himself to look back. She was his wife, after all. 

Offering her his hand, he held hers as she stepped into the tub and lowered down into the warm water, a hum of contentment escaping her. Aemond took a seat on the stool by the tug, his long fingers curling around a soapy rag and beginning to gingerly rub it along her shoulders.

Her lips curled upward, her eyes following his movements before they trailed up his arm and to his face. He paused when her hand raised from the edge of the tub, stiffening when she tugged the eyepatch away to reveal the sapphire in place of his missing eye. 

"You needn't wear this around me, Husband." She told him, placing the eyepatch in the palm of his free hand. "I am not a silly little girl like some of the ladies here. I do not frighten easily." 

His own lips curled at that, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He expected such an attitude from a Lannister, although her older brother, Tyland, hardly gave the same impression as her. He shrunk back easily when challenged during meetings and had the attitude of a cub over a lion. "I shall like to introduce you to Vhagar then, Wife." Aemond ran the rag along the underside of her arm, slowly lifting it until he could brush his lips over her knuckles. 

"I'm certain we'll get along." (Y/N) responded, her hand turning over to cup Aemond's chin. He leaned into her touch and savored it, for he hadn't received such a gentle caress since the death of his nephew. His mother had shrunk back from him, whether from fear or disgust of what he'd done. No mother would find the news of her child getting their hands bloody appealing. He had to give her time to adjust. 

Aemond smiled against her skin. "Yes, I believe so as well." He agreed, feeling her palm slide against his jawline and cheek. Her thumb brushed over the scar thoughtfully, not a glimmer of disgust on her face.

She'd make a lovely queen, he noted. They'd make a lovely ruling couple, far better than his older siblings and even his parents. If only he'd allowed Aegon to escape when he had the chance. 

"I believe we ought to consummate the marriage soon, Husband." The light teasing tone in her voice made him grin. 

"Yes, we should. Perhaps... tonight."

[sophiemariepl]

Okay, I actually love Gayle Rankin’s acting as Alys Rivers, but where are my “Aemond deserves a Lannister wife” girlies at?

(And yes, I’m still writing this fic about Aemond and Cerelle Lannister. Or constantly rewriting it.)

[damn-stark]

Part 8 The never changing fate & The friends who never say goodbye

Chapter 8 of The Lion and The Dragon

A/N- I’m sorry to say but after this chapter I will put this story on hiatus since it follows the show plot line :( but there is small inquiring at the end so read the story and find out :)

Warning- Violence, blood, talks of baby stuff & death, fluff, Aegon, forced marriage, swearing, ANGST

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x fem!Lannister reader

Episode- 1x09 & 1x10

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

The early breeze was bitter, but soft as it traveled through the windows creaks. There was darkness as the last candle light was blown off, leaving hints of smoke in the air. There was an unshakable solemn silence, but that was quickly broken by the cry of the baby.

You slowly open your eyes to begin trying to get up and walk to the crying babe, but before you can even push yourself off the bed, Aemond gets up first to reach her. And it seems that at the mere sight of him Visenya goes quiet, Aemond proceeds to mumble something in Valyrian before he returns to the bed to lay the baby in between him and you.

When he lays back down you meet his gaze through the darkness and offer him a small smile before he cradles your cheek and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead. He then stays there close by you, close to Visenya, and keeps you both in his arms. You close your eyes as you’re in the comfort of his embrace to try and go back to sleep, but a knock then raps on the door.

When Aemond walks over to open the door for the early morning visitor, you hear a soft yet panicked voice. “Lady Y/N is needed for an urgent council meeting by her Majesty the Queen.”

The sun is not even out yet, what could have happened that it could not wait?

Regardless, you go, no matter how early it is, and it seems all the other Lords share the same confusion when they enter the meeting room.

“You my dear niece,” your uncle Tyland says as you both walk towards the table with the other Lords. “Do you happen to know the matter for this early meeting?”

You shake your head. “No,” you answer truthfully and notice Alicent already at her seat at the end of the table; her hair is down, and theirs this look in her eyes, a sad one that makes you feel pit in your stomach.

“Good morning,” you greet her softly once you reach her side.

Alicent looks up at you and tries to offer you the best faint smile she can muster. “Good morning, y/n. I am sorry for pulling you from your bed so early.”

You scoff softly and shake your head. “Do not worry, Visenya had just woken us up.”

“Well,” she sighs. “I am happy you could make it.”

You offer her a soft smile before grabbing the orbs and giving them to each Lord that takes his seat.

“What is it that could have not waited an hour?” Your uncle asks the council. “Was Dorne invaded?”

A silence follows briefly before it is broken by the Lord Hand. “The King is dead.”

You go rigid and feel your breath catch in your throat. That’s why Alicent had such a glum look, why this meeting was called so early.

It was inevitable, the King’s death, but it doesn’t mean it’s still not sad. Mostly because Aemond just lost his father. Sure he might have not been so great to Aemond, but the King was his father nonetheless, and he was the King.

Now….

Now everything is going to change.

“We grieve for Viserys the Peaceful,” the Hand continues to say. “Our sovereign…our friend…”

You drop your head and swallow thickly.

“…But he has left us a gift. With his last breath, he impressed upon the Queen his final wish: that his son Aegon…should succeed him as Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You slowly lift your head as you feel slight disbelief over this news.

It's like Aemond said, it was always the plan to make Aegon King over his sister, but one thing you knew, one thing a lot of people knew but chose to ignore is how much the King loved his first born daughter. He never changed the heir because of that same love, so why would he say that now? On his dying breath?

Did he really have some change of heart before the gods took him?

“Then we may proceed now with the full assurance of his blessing on our long laid plans,” your uncle interjects in the silence.

“Yes,” the Lord Hand answers and moves from his spot beside Alicent to walk to his seat. “There is much to be done as we've previously discussed. Now, there are two among the captains of the City Watch that remain loyal to Daemon, let us remove them. Lord Lannister.”

“The treasury is well in hand,” he answers, causing you to slightly squint your eyes in confusion since this is nothing you have heard discussed before—“the gold will be divided for safekeeping.”

“Let ravens be sent to our allies, Riverrun and Highgarden,” the Lord Hand adds.

“Am I to understand that members of the small council have been planning secretly to install my son without me?” Alicent finally asks as her own confusion and disbelief passes.

Lord Wylde at her side sighs and answers for her father. “My Queen, there was no need to sully you with darkling schemes.”

You scoff under your breath in defense for Alicent.

No need to sully her? If it’s her who has also wanted her son to be King? How pathetic of them. All of them.

“I will not have this,” Lord Beesbury interjects. “To hear that you are planning to replace the King’s chosen heir. With an imposter?”

“His firstborn son is hardly an imposter,” your uncle chimes in.

“Hundreds of Lords and landed Knights swore fealty to the Princess,” Lord Beesbury continues. As if that was going to change anyone’s mind.

“That was some twenty years ago,” your uncle argues. “Most of them now dead.”

He is right, but you also understand the old Lord's argument. Mayhaps if you had not been married to Aemond, you would have supported Princess Rhaenrya—it’s just to have a Woman on the throne? That would have been an actual dream come true, but alas you are faithful to your husband, to your new family, and to your old one, so you support them. Always.

“You heard the Lord Hand,” Lord Wylde adds. “Plot or no, the King changed his mind.”

At the sound of the comment Lord Beesbury stands up from his chair to make himself heard. “I am six-and-seventy years old, I have known Viserys longer than any of you who sit at this table. And I will not believe that he said this on his deathbed, alone, with only the-the boys mother as a witness.”

You scoff and step towards the table to narrow your gaze on the old man and then interject. “Lord Beesbury, are you calling your Queen a liar?”

Eyes snap to you, but quickly snap to the Lord to wait for what he would have to say in response.

“Th…this is seizure!” Lord Beesbury answers. “It is theft! It is treason! At the least, it is—”

“Mind your tongue, Lyman,” the Grand Maester cuts him off.

But to no avail.

“The King was well last night…”

You huff out softly and catch Ser Criston walk over behind the Lord as he continues with his ballsy accusations.

“…by all accounts. Which of you here can swear that he died of his own accord?” He asks.

You lift your head and continue to interject. “Who are you accusing of regicide Lord Beesbury?”

“Whether it was one of you, or all of you,” Lord Beesbury continues to throw out. “I care not. I will have no part—”

Before Lord Beesbury can finish Ser Criston approaches him and exclaims, “sit down!” Before he shoves the old Lord down to his seat, causing the man to hit his head against the table so hard that he instantly dies at impact.

You gasp softly and step back out of shock to what just happened, to what you just heard and saw.

And once the shock passes, Ser Harrold unsheathes his sword and points it to Ser Criston, before approaching him and making your uncle get out of his chair to get out of their way.

“Throw down your sword and remove your cloak, Ser Criston,” the Knight orders.

In response Ser Criston pulls out his sword and points to his Lord Commander.

“I am your Lord Commander, Ser Criston,” the Knight continues. “Cast down your sword.”

“I will not suffer insults to Her Grace the Queen,” Ser Criston argues.

“There was no insult to me, Ser Criston. Y-Put aside your blade,” Alicent interjects. And without a fault Ser Criston does so, letting the other Knight slowly put down his sword and return to his previous spot as he begins to protest.

“Has it come to this?”

“Lord Commander, enough,” the Lord Hand interjects, and the Knight doesn’t argue and puts away his blade, letting the Grand Maester now stand from his chair.

“Let us have Lord Beesbury removed,” he suggests.

“No,” the Lord Hand snaps. “The door remains shut until we finish our business.”

The Grand Maester meets the Hands gaze and doesn’t argue either, he sits back down and lets the meeting continue as it was before the incident.

“Storm's End is of concern,” your uncle interjects only once he has sat back down. “We may not assume the loyalty of Lord Borros.” He then meets your gaze and says, “but he does have a newborn son, the right proposal—”

“What of Rhaenyra?” Alicent cuts him off, and pulls your uncle's gaze away, but you continue to focus on your uncle, on his suggestion that you knew he meant to you with his shared look alone.

There is a s possiblity be could be referring to Helaena’s daughter, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze when he mentioned his concern and proposal. He…He wants to marry off Visenya, without even talking to you about it? She’s just a baby. She’s just a four month old baby. No. No.

No!

“You mean to imprison her?” You hear Alicent ask once you focus back on the meeting so as to not let your anger distract you right now.

“She and her family will be given the opportunity to publicly swear obeisance to the new King,” the Lord Hand explains to her, letting you in on who he was referring to right away; the Princess.

“She will never bend the knee,” Alicent argues. “Nor will Daemon, which you know.”

Her father goes silent and she sighs before grasping what you knew already.

“You plan to kill them?” Alicent asks, and no one answers. “And all of you accede to this?”

“Your father is correct, your Grace,” the Grand Maester interjects for everyone. “A living challenger invites battle and bloodshed.”

“It is unsavory, yes,” the Lord Hand chimes in. “But a sacrifice we must make to secure Aegon’s succession, and then there is Daemon to consider. The King wouldn’t wish for an unsavory—”

“The King did not wish for the murder of his daughter!” Alicent cuts him off angrily.

But he is right. As sad as it is to admit. It’s only if they’re dead that it can all happen right. But you know that they won’t go without a fight.

“He loved her. I will not have you deny this,” she continues.

“And yet—”

“One more word, and I will have you removed from this chamber and sent to the wall!” She cuts off Lord Wylde whilst she gets out of her chair, causing him to go quiet and for the room to fall in a tense silence for a brief moment before your uncle interrupts.

“What do you suggest, Your Grace?”

Alicent looks over at your uncle and just sighs in response, letting her father cut in. “Time is of the essence.”

Alicent continues not to answer, so her father continues.

“Lord Commander Westerling take your Knights to Dragonstone. Be quick and be clean.”

Yet the old Knight doesn’t leave or follow orders, he proceeds to take off his cloak and puts it on the table to resign, saying he has no place there until there is a King. However, you all knew he objected because of his loyalty, otherwise he would have done it and been faithful like Ser Criston. But alas he left with no other objection, nor an objection from anyone else.

The meeting then continued for a bit longer with talk about allies and more plans, nothing interested you more though than what your uncle tried to suggest before. He didn’t bring it up again, but you still thought back to it and hated the idea. Visenya was a baby, your baby, your only daughter she…

She can’t be matched already.

“Y/N…”

She’s just a baby…

“Y/N,” the Queen's voice breaks you from your train of thought as you walk out of the meeting room.

“Yes?” You probe and glance at her.

Alicent comes to a stop, and you mirror her action to then face her.

“Do not tell anyone besides Aemond what you heard in that chamber, all right?”

Without hesitation you nod. “Of course.”

She sighs and grabs your arm with one hand. “Please will you do me the favor of telling him? I will tell Helaena, but please tell Aemond.”

You nod softly in agreement. “I will,” you assure her. And before long you depart and go your separate ways.

The moment you get in your chambers, it’s still quiet, Aemond is awake and watching Visenya sleep in her crib. He likes to do that, watch her sleep just to make sure she’s breathing and safe. If he could he would watch her sleep for hours, that’s why he liked to have her sleep in your shared quarters, he said no one could keep her safer than him.

He’s a good father, it’s surprising and fascinating. Admirable too, considering he didn’t have such a good one.

“Aemond,” you make yourself known.

Said man turns around and meets you by the entrance of the room to grab your arms before cupping your cheek to stroke it gently. “What did the council want that could not wait?”

You slowly lower your gaze and sigh. And Aemond right away notices your conflict without having to be said anything.

“What is it?” He insists.

You slowly meet his gaze and frown deeper before grabbing his hand and pulling him out to the balcony. When you come to stop, Aemond keeps his gaze on you and waits patiently, but in concern.

“Aemond,” you finally manage to say and grab his arms. “It’s your father,” you continue slowly and quietly. “He passed away last night.”

Aemond stiffens and drops his gaze. You don’t add anything else, you give him time to process the news, you let him step back and turn to watch the sight of the town miles below the window, but stay there. You watch him grip onto the railing and drop his head, making long strands of his silver-white hair fall over his face.

Silence is such a common thing that it doesn’t usually bother you, you actually quite enjoy he’s not as loud as his brother is, or as loud as your siblings once were, you like his calm and soft spoken persona. But now? After giving him the news about his father, the long silence begins to unsettle you rather quickly even if you were willing to wait just seconds ago.

“Aemond,” you break the silence and grab his hand. “Talk to me.”

Said man let’s out a deep sigh and picks up his head. “My father…” he pauses and turns to face you. “He was never much of one to me or my siblings. No one could compare to his first born…” he pauses again and slowly meets your gaze, showing off a saddened look in his gaze. “Yet…” he trails off.

Your heartstrings churn at the sight of his look, at the sound of his soft voice, so you gently brush his hair back before caressing his cheeks and pulling him for an embrace. Aemond quickly returns the hug and balls the material of your dress in his hands, making you press a kiss on the side of his head before you squeeze him tighter.

“My mother,” he says and breaks the short silence. “Where is she?” He pulls away and grabs your arms to wait for an answer.

“With Helaena,” you tell him. “She was going to tell Helaena the news.”

He hums and breaks away to grab his eyepatch and tie his hair back, before going to Visenya and leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask him as you walk back inside.

Aemond looks up from the crib and nods, making you bring in the handmaidens so they can take Visenya to the children’s room before you follow Aemond to Helaena’s room.

“What else was said at the meeting?” Aemond asks.

You eye the people that pass by and whisper. “I will tell you when we reach your mother. I can not say now, but I can say one thing.” You slowly come to stop and clench your hands into fists. Aemond slowly comes to a stop and turns to face you with confusion.

“What is it?” He queries.

Your eyes fill with angry tears and you have to swallow back thickly before sharing the news. “My uncle made a suggestion today at the meeting regarding Visenya.”

Aemond blinks and clenches his jaw.

“He said that in order to secure The Baratheon’s alliance,” you continue. “We should make a proposal since Lord Borros has a newborn son. My uncle didn’t say if it would be Visenya or Jaehaera, but that’s what they want to do.”

Aemond sighs and closes the gap between you to grab one arm and hold your chin. “Visenya is a princess,” he says as if he can read your mind. “It will be her duty to be married off.”

You shake your head. “She’s just a baby,” you argue.

Aemond grabs your face with both hands and leans his face closer to yours. “She will not be a baby forever.”

“But,” you try to continue inputting but he shakes his head and cuts you off.

“No, my love, let us not discuss this here. Besides it has not been decided yet, it won’t be until we have a say in it.”

You drop your gaze and don’t say anything, you just look at the ground and sigh. He takes that as a sign to drop the conversation and pulls away to continue towards his sister's room. Of course you follow, and once you reach the room, both his sister and mother immediately look up at him in pity.

“I’ve heard,” Aemond says to his mother.

Alicent gets off her seat and walks up to Aemond, whilst you walk over to Helaena at the couch.

“There is a beast beneath the boards,” she says once you sit down beside her.

You hum softly and add, “I’m sorry about your father, Helaena.”

Said girl looks up from her stitching and meets your gaze with a soft smile. “Thank you,” she says. “Do you want to see my stitching?”

You nod and lean over as she shows off the spider she’s been stitching—-“that’s excellent,” you compliment her. “I like it. You have yet to show me how to stitch a spider.”

Helaena smiles at you and puts her things on her lap. “Soon I hope, if time is in our favor,” she says.

“Y/N,” Aemond calls.

You look over at him and he points to the door with his head, making you grab Helaena’s hands to end the short conversation. “We will speak later, yes?”

Helaena nods in agreement, so you get up and bid her a goodbye before you follow Aemond to his mothers quarters to privately discuss what was said, and what happened in the early morning meeting. All whilst Alicent waited for news on Aegon’s whereabouts.

It seems he hasn’t been seen anywhere in the castle, so Alicent sent Ser Criston to investigate, and you waited with Aemond until he heard some news. And it’s the wait that made you want to discuss with Aemond about what he put on hold earlier since Alicent was in the same room. But with all the tension that there was as they waited for news, bringing up your subject didn’t seem right yet.

So instead you choose to wait in silence with them, you let Aemond take your hand as you sit by the fireplace together.

“Mother,” Aemond speaks up in their wait.

Alicent hums so Aemond can continue.

“What is this I hear about Ser Tyland wanting to match one of the girls with Lord Borro’s son?”

Or it will be discussed now.

Alicent pushes herself off her chair, and from the corner of your eye you catch her gaze—“it was brought up,” she explains. “But, I cut him off with other matters before he could finish.”

Aemond hums. “Next time I want matters about my daughter discussed with both y/n and I present. Nothing will be decided without our consent,” he says, causing you to snap your gaze towards him in slight shock.

“Of course,” Alicent doesn’t hesitate to agree.

Aemond glances over and catches your stare. He then proceeds to lift your hand to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles. “<Do not worry,” he adds in Valyrian. “I will take care of it.>”

You let out a slow sigh and nod in comprehension.

Only seconds later there's a knock on the door before Ser Criston walks in.

“Prince Aegon’s not to be found within the castle walls. Your Grace,” Ser Criston announces as he enters. “Your father has sent Ser Erryk into the city to find him.”

“Ser Erryk knows Aegon. He has the advantage,” Alicent says before you hear her footsteps recede from where Aemond and you are. “I trust again to you, Ser Criston, and to your loyalty. Aegon must be found and he must be brought to me. The very fate of the Seven Kingdoms depends on it…”

Her voice trails off, but when you look back you see Alicent leaned in closer to Ser Criston. You try to make out what they’re saying, but Aemond then interjects.

“I’ll come with you,” he volunteers himself.

“That will not be my desire, Aemond,” his mother argues as she turns and approaches him as he gets up to meet her halfway. “If anything has happened—”

You get out of your chair and face them.

“Cole needs me, Mother,” Aemond counters. “Ser Erryk isn’t the only one who knows Aegon's doings.”

Alicent looks over at the Knight for reassurance. And you see him right away give it to her, letting Aemond turn to face you now.

“I need you, my love,” he says and walks over to grab your arms. “For whatever reason we cannot find him in the Street of Silk, I’ll need you and the information you receive from your…little birds.”

You smile with pride and gratitude. “Alright,” you assure him. “I'll take Ser Erwin with me then,”

Aemond clenches his jaw and drops his gaze as he hesitates.

“Unless you wish me to go alone,” you bring up. “I am more than happy to do so.”

Aemond’s eyes flicker up to you and he sighs. “Fine, take your Golden Knight.” He smirks. “Don’t let him get harmed,” he quips.

You grin. “I’ll keep him safe and I’ll find your brother,” you assure him even if losing Aegon wouldn’t be such a disgrace—“we will find him,” you say and look to Alicent. “I swear.”

Aemond pulls away and you both leave the room to go to your quarters and put on clothes that blend in more within the city. After you get Ser Erwin to agree, and you all begin to head out of the castle gates, there is one man who doesn’t seem so comforted by you tagging along.

“My Prince, are you sure you want your Lady Wife to come along?” Ser Criston interjects. “The city is a dangerous place.”

You scoff and Aemond immediately responds, “you need not worry, Ser Criston, you and I both know y/n is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Ser Criston doesn’t answer with anything, he just takes in what was said and accepts Aemond’s choice as the gates of the castle open, and let you all walk out.

Before you could go your separate ways albeit, Aemond stops to address you. “We’ll meet here once we find anything,” he informs you.

You nod. “Okay, be careful.”

Aemond hums and presses a kiss on your forehead before he turns and walks off with Ser Criston, leaving you with your Golden Knight.

“Where is it you’re going first, my Lady?” Ser Erwin asks.

You begin to lead him down the street and peer over at him. “Uhm, a tavern at Flea bottom. I have friends who work there.”

“Flea bottom?” He asks if you were just jestering.

You nod. “Yes. They work at the castle too, they’re the people who you pass by without taking a second glance. People who don’t call attention to themselves, and are forgotten.” You offer him a smirk and pull your hood further over your face the further you walk down the streets of Kings Landing.

And unfortunately much to your craving for some excitement, Ser Erwin and you make it to the tavern without trouble. It seems being seen accompanied by a man doesn’t invite the attention of disgusting men.

“You can sit,” you tell Ser Erwin as you take your hood off once you’re inside the tavern. “I won’t take long.”

Ser Erwin glances around and studies each dirt covered man and woman, every person with blades attached to their hips, and spots every gawking stare.

“I’m not so sure I feel comfortable with you by yourself,” he whispers.

You lean in closer to him and offer him a mischievous smirk before assuring him. “Do not worry, no one here will hurt me. Everyone in this tavern is my friend.” You step back. “Everyone here would take a sword for me Ser, they’re fellow tourney companions, friends from the castle, and associates.”

“Is that what we are?” You hear a familiar sweet voice cut in, in her thick Dornish accent. “You wound me, Lady Lion.”

Your lips turn to a happy grin and when you turn you see your friend, Yvette; her shiny mischievous smile, her alluring dark brown eyes, and her short wavy hair that still doesn’t go past her ears.

“You know exactly that’s not we are,” you tell her right away and leave Ser Erwin’s side to approach the bar and take her forearm as she takes yours.

Yvette snickers and nods. “I was just jesting.”

“Ser!” Someone exclaims beside you in a booming and graveling voice.

You look over and see a fellow Knight over the bar. “Hedge,” you greet with a smile.

“Have you come here with your Husband?” He asks excitedly.

You shake your head. “No, he's busy today. Actually I came here for something. Eyes and ears.”

“Aw, I hoped I’d meet the great Aemond Targaryen who lets his Highborn Lady Wife wield a sword—you have a dragon yet?”

You sigh. “No, only in my dreams.”

Hedge grabs his large wooden cup from the table and stands up seven feet tall, towering over everyone inside, and walking over to you to try and offer you his cup. “Drink?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m sorry Hedge, not today.”

“Are you with child again?” Yvette asks.

You glance at her and shake your head. “No, I am not.”

Yvette scoffs and grins down at the wooden surface. “I was about to say, it’s been four months, why so eager?”

You grin and shrug innocently. “Oh, you know, not eager but my paramour and I do like to keep busy and have fun.”

Yvette smirks and gets closer to you, whilst Hedge walks over to Ser Erwin as he continues to lurk behind you.

“Do not worry, little man, y/n here is…” his words trail off as he takes the Golden Knight off to the corner of the tavern.

“Someone was asking about you,” Yvette shares in a low voice.

You snap your eyes to her and narrow your gaze out of confusion. “Who?” You probe.

Yvette sighs. “Issa did not get a name. She only said that the man’s hair was silver-white. That it stood out even in the darkness of the night. Like moonlight she said.”

A Targaryen?

Couldn’t be Aemond he was with you the entire night, and he had no reason to. Aegon wouldn't bother to be so secretive, so…Daemon Targaryen.

He’s the only man with that hair description you can think of. Only one who made sense.

“What did he want? What did they tell him?”

Yvette shrugs. “I don’t know what he wanted. Issa cut the conversation short, you know we support you down here.”

You hum and offer her a faint smile. “I will have to thank her then.”

“What do you want then, hm? You said you need information,” Yvette finally investigates.

You sigh deeply and lean closer to her to share what you need. “I need to know if anyone has seen my dear Goodbrother Aegon. He’s gone missing. The…King is dead.”

Yvette holds your gaze for a moment before she lets out a deep breath and grabs a cup of ale to take a large swig. “To the King's memory. May the Gods give him peace.”

“Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret until it’s publicly announced.” You let her know.

Yvette nods in agreement and then shows off a half grin. “Prince Aegon has been seen around the streets. With the White Worm.” She snickers. “Even she and her little workers have grown to forget about what’s below them. Hm. Some of our friends have said that they saw her take him to the Sept. It seems the bastard wants to run away from his duties. I hoped they’d want him gone. Gods know what he’s done.”

You hum in agreement and pull out a heavy pouch of gold to hand it to her. “Thank you, I hope you can give everyone their portion….There’s also a bit more for you and your mother.” You offer her a smile, and Yvette grabs your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles before stroking your chin.

“Thank you my Sweetling. May the Gods bless you and your sweet little cub.”

You grin at her and press a kiss on her cheek before you pull away and offer her a nod. “I will see you soon enough,” you tell her.

“You better!” She exclaims. “I want to see that ass again.”

You smirk and meet Ser Erwin’s gaze to point to the door.

He understands your meaning and excuses himself from your friend Hedge.

“Leaving so soon, Ser,” Hedge shouts at you as Ser Erwin walks to you. “When will you compete again? The lads and I miss you!”

“Soon!” You throw out as Ser Erwin opens the door for you. “I promise you that!” You wave at your friend before putting on your hood again to head back to your meeting place.

“Ser,” you break your short silence once you’re a few feet away from the Tavern. “I hope my business here is kept just between you and I. I value my privacy and I would hate to lose your trust after a year together.”

Ser Erwin’s gaze lands on you, and from the corner of your eyes you can spot a certain sparkle. “Does your husband not know?”

“He is the only one who knows besides some other trusted few,” you let him know, and see him swallow thickly.

“Right,” he sighs. “Well, you can trust me, you know that.”

You smile at his comfort and pat his shoulder. “Thank you my friend. I hope I can repay your loyalty.”

“No need,” Ser Erwin continues to assure you. “It’s my honor. It really is.”

You smile softly and nod in comprehension, finding no need to argue with him since you know he’s only sincere. It’s why you continue down your path in silence, and once again, unfortunately, there’s no obstacles in the way.

Once you begin to reach your meeting point, you already spot Aemond and Ser Criston waiting for you. The moment Aemond spots you under your cloak, he breaks away from the Knight, and you break away from yours to meet each other halfway.

The moment he reaches you he grabs your shoulders and studies you first for any injuries before he meets your gaze, and cradles your cheeks. “‘Cause any trouble my love?”

You pout and shake your head. “No. Sadly. You?”

Aemond shakes his head. “No.”

You quirk your brow and hide your smirk that threatens to show. “Find anything?”

“No,” he deadpans. “You?”

You hold his gaze and begin to smirk before you lean over and whisper in his ear. “A little birdie told me they saw him being taken to the Sept by the White Worm.”

Aemond pulls back and grabs your face again to stare at you in awe for a moment before he grins at you and pulls you in for a deep kiss.

You snicker and don’t fret to kiss him back with more passion, making sure to bite his bottom lip before pulling away.

“I love you,” he tells you softly.

“I love you,” you mirror his words.

Aemond offers you one last smirk before he pulls away and begins to lead the way. “Come,” he tells the other two Knights. “My Lady Wife has found my brother.”

You side eye Ser Criston and join Aemond’s side to walk by him towards the Sept.

Luckily enough, the Sept is not far from Red Keep, so you all make it rather quickly. Yet, when you do reach the Sept, the twins are already there and with them is Aegon struggling to be let go.

The moment Aemond and Ser Criston notice they both run to the stairs, and Ser Erwin follows his fellow Knight, leaving you behind to wait.

Some words are exchanged from the top of the stairs, before Aegon suddenly shoves Ser Erryk back and snakes out of his grasp to run the opposite way of where Aemond is waiting by the flight of stairs, forcing to rush down to follow. Whilst Ser Criston and Ser Erwin stay behind to fight against Ser Erryk.

When Aegon reaches the bottom he breaks into a sprint ahead, not catching any glimpse of you until it’s too late and he’s too close. He tries to swerve, but you grab him by his arm and shove him back to Aemond as he charges at Aegon.

Aemond then tackles Aegon to the ground, but Aegon resists some. He doesn’t actually manage to fight, he just tries to struggle against his brother's hold, but fails and gets dragged back by his foot. And unsurprisingly enough Aegon begins to laugh.

“I was hoping you disappeared,” Aemond tells Aegon.

“Is our father truly dead?” Aegon asks as he continues trying to push Aemond off.

“And they’re going to make you King,” Aemond mutters.

Without hesitation Aegon pulls his head back and sucks in his cheeks before spitting at Aemond’s eye, causing him to exclaim and fall back and let Aegon go.

Aegon tries to run then, but Aemond catches him right away.

“No!” Aegon exclaims as Aemond pulls him off the ground. “Let me go! No, let me go! Let me go! Brother!” Aegon yells and continues to squirm. “Let me go! I have no wish to rule! No taste for duty! I’m not suited.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Aemond retorts, and Aegon manages to turn around and face Aemond.

“You let me go,” Aegon continues to try and sway Aemond as he grabs his face. “I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found.” Aegon pants and waits for Aemond’s response as he stays quiet, as if debating his proposal.

Nevertheless, Ser Criston approaches Aegon and cuts off any opportunity for an answer. “The Queen awaits.” Ser Criston grabs Aegon by the shoulder before pulling him off Aemond and dragging him back to the castle. Ser Erwin follows them when he sees you’re not moving, leaving Aemond and you behind as he lingers there for a brief second before he looks away from where his brother was and meets your gaze.

“Let’s go,” you break the silence.

“Was it a mistake?” He asks.

You sigh and close the gap between you. “Perhaps,” you can’t lie. “But this was not for you, but for her. Your mother.”

Aemond holds your gaze and hums in agreement.

——

*LATER*

“Tell me,” Aegon mutters with food in his mouth. “Sweet Goodsister...”

You pick a sleeping Visenya off Aemond’s arms and glance at Aegon sitting around the table.

“Have you ever dreamed of being Queen?”

You gently rock the baby girl in your arms as you slowly make your way to her crib and give him the honest truth. “Perhaps once when I was a child, but I have never really dreamt of it. I…” you pause and carefully place Visenya down, making sure to stroke her cheek so she could not wake up. “…I had other dreams,” you continue.

“Like?” Aegon probes.

You sigh and slowly turn away from Visenya to face Aegon’s back as he keeps eating. “Like becoming a warrior like Queen Visenya. I wished to wear ringmail, wield my own sword…” you sigh and walk towards your rack of dresses that you needed to choose from for tomorrow's coronation. “While also being a decent Lady.”

Aegon hums, and you can feel his stare as you get in his pherial view. “Well,” he says. “You’re halfway there—“ he stuffs his mouth and adds a muffled snicker. “You’re just missing the title.”

You scoff and pull out a dark black dress that in certain light seems dark green. The sleeves were long and parted in the middle so skin would show, and the sleeves hung off your shoulders. While the neckline was deep, and around the lining of it was embroidered by a golden dragon. The tail of the dress was long, but not long enough that you’d be tripping over it or have someone else do so.

There were more; red ones, green, more black ones, but the one you have in your hand called your attention, and well…it coordinated with Aemond’s outfit for tomorrow.

“I like that one,” Aegon comments.

You side-eye him and catch him smiling from ear to ear.

“Watch your tongue Aegon, I can have you locked in my closet all night.” You remark and walk over to hang the dress in your closet. “Then again it seems you’re accustomed to confined spaces so, it might feel like home.” You smirk.

Aegon chuckles. “Such a sharp little tongue,” he counters. “I like it.”

You roll your eyes.

“Aegon,” Aemond warns.

You hear a shuffle before you hear Aegon scoff and laugh. “What?” He retorts. “I am only jesting with her. She knows that. You know that. I swear I have never looked at your wife in such a manner brother.” He snickers.

“No,” you scoff and walk out the closet. “But you did look at Nyra like that.”

Aegon turns back and nods. “Nyra…Nyra,” he clicks tongue. “I liked her. It was a shame she had to go.”

You let out a deep annoyed sigh and make your way to Aemond’s chair.

“Anyway,” Aegon comments. “I’m just saying, sharp tongues make for great Queens. At least…” he pauses and takes a long sip of water since Aemond made sure to have the wine taken away. “That’s what I think. If you don’t take anyone’s shit then people will not dare cross you. They will respect you.”

You prop your arms on the chair and let your hands hang off the head of the chair. “You think?” You entertain him.

“Yes,” Aegon agrees and pushes his chair back to stand up. “I mean I know I would. I’d rejoice in having a Queen like you. I mean,” he begins to laugh and walks over to the fireplace so he could be closer to Aemond. “The way you so quickly got ready to fight Baela. Did you see it, Aemond?”

Aemond turns his head and looks at his brother. “Partially.”

Aegon snorts and stifles his laugh before he points at you. “Well you should have seen her, she was ready to join you in the fight, it’s a damn shame Rhaena held Baela off. It would have made for a great girl fight.”

Aemond scoffs. “It would not have been a fair fight. Y/N would have embarrassed Baela. She might have a dragon and a quick temper, but y/n has the training, she would have dragged Baela without breaking a sweat.”

You smile and gush whilst you squeeze his shoulder as a speechless thank you.

Aegon scoffs and nods. “See…such fiery makes a great trait for leadership.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “We will not let you leave Aegon. You are to stay here and be crowned at dawn. That’s what your mother said.”

Aegon lets out a deep sigh and sits down. “So what?” He grumbles. “I’m going to be treated like a child until then?”

“Maybe if you stopped behaving like one you would be in your own quarters now, so,” you comment and step back from Aemond’s chair.

Aegon sinks in his chair and lets the room fall silent.

At least it was silent for a bit until Visenya began to cry. “It's okay, I’ll get her,” Aemond says before he stands from his chair and walks to Visenya to pick her up.

And right away, once in the comfort of her fathers arms, Visenya's cries begin to silence until there’s nothing but the whispers of your voice as you approach her and Aemond.

“Did you have a nightmare?” You smile at the baby girl as she rubs her eyes. You then rest your head on Aemond’s shoulder whilst you gently rub his back. “<Don’t worry Little Delight, your father is going to slay all those scary monsters.>” You comfort her in Valyrian and gently stroke her cheek with your finger.

Aemond’s lips tug to a faint smirk before he presses a kiss on your forehead.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“People of Kings Landing, today is the saddest of days our beloved King Viserys the Peaceful…is dead.” Lord Otto announces to the audience of people all crowded in the Dragon pit to watch Aegon’s ceremony. “But it is also the most joyous of days for as his spirit left us he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon should succeed him.”

The crowd murmurs at the sound of the announcement moments before clapping in acceptance. However, the sound of marching Knights then cut off the short sound of celebration as they marched and lined up towards the stage.

“Halt!” One of them orders loudly, and every single one does as they’re told. “Turn!”

Trumpets then begin to sound and the announcer continues. “Present…arms!”

The sound of the trumpets goes quiet, and murmurs fill the room until there at the other side of the line of Knights is Aegon walking out. He’s slow with his steps, and as he passes every pair of Knights, they lower their blades.

“It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this a new day for our city,” the Lord Hand continues to shout as Aegon approaches. “A new day for our realm. A new King to lead us!”

Once Aegon reaches the stage, you let out a small breath and watch as his mother presses a kiss on his forehead. She proceeds to lead him back to make him get on his knees so the Septon can approach him now.

“May the warrior give him courage.” The Septon spoke as rubs oil on Aegon’s forehead. “May the Smith lend him strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom.” The Septon finishes and hands back the oil to hand Ser Criston the Crown of Aegon the Conqueror.

Once the Knight approaches Aegon, you clench your jaw.

“The crown of the Conqueror passed down through generations!” Ser Criston shouts and carefully places the crown on Aegon’s head, making you lower your head and sigh.

“Let the Seven bear witness; Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne!”

There’s a moment of silence, and you lift your head to once again look over at Aegon, catching him standing up now with the crown on his head. And as the silence continues to linger, with not even the crowd murmuring, Aegon glances at each one of his family members as if looking for their comfort or showing off; and each one of them bows their heads when gazes meet.

When he meets your gaze as you stand beside Aemond, you offer Aegon a faint smirk before bowing your head.

Once he finally looks away the Septon finally exclaims, “all hail His Grace Aegon. Second of his name. King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm!”

Aegon partially turns to face the silenced crowd, and the bells toll.

“Aegon the King!” Ser Criston shouts, and finally the silence breaks as a slow clapter ensues before the people erupt in excited cheer, and louder clapping.

Aegon finally seems to break from his brooding demeanor and begins to be swayed by the support. Yet it makes you uneasy. He is family and your support is on his side, but honestly, you would rather see Aemond, or even Helaena rule. It’s disappointing really that Aegon is King.

Alas, as you clasp your hands tightly together and watch the cheering crowd, suddenly the ground beneath them erupts, making you gasp, and making Aemond instantly pull you and Helaena behind him.

Screaming breaks within the cloud of dust and then a loud dragon roar tunes it all out.

Once your own shock slightly passes, and you make sure your uncle standing behind you is fine, you grab tighter onto Aemond’s arm and look over it, managing to catch a glimpse of a red dragon and Lady Rhaenys within the cloud of dust.

She’s….

Oh...

Oh!

Your eyes widen from shock before they snap to Helaena as you remember what she had been telling you recently, “there’s a beast beneath the boards.” That’s…them, the Dragon Meleys and Lady Rhaenys.

Helaena was right, she was mumbling this incident before it happened. And all this time no one tried to understand, you didn’t.

“Open the doors!” Lord Otto exclaims. “Open the doors!”

The dragon then begins to approach closer, causing your breath to catch and your heart to pound faster, whilst Aemond steps back so you can get further away from the approaching dragon since she was unpredictable. Since she wasn’t Vhagar who’d keep you safe by Aemond’s demand, and Vhagar wasn’t here to defend him.

And as Meleys only gets closer, Aemond can only pull you further behind him before the dragon opens its mouth and lets out a loud and deafening screech that’s so powerful that it makes Aemond’s hair blow back. You on the other hand press your face against his back and grab onto him tightly as you expect the worst, as you expect flames to come out and burn everything down.

Yet, the dragon then goes quiet and flames don’t scorch a thing or melt everyone in front of her to nothing but a pile of bones. As you slowly look up you see Lady Rhaenys and her dragon turn before charging out of the dragon pit and flying off, leaving nothing behind but the disbelief that filled the room.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

There was once a desire, a deep longing to return home once. As ignored as your father left you, as alone as you felt amongst your step-sisters, that desire to return was still deeply implanted. As time passed and the relationships you had developed, as you grew to love the husband you were forced to marry, now….now there wasn’t anything you wanted more but to stay home, with him and Visenya. That’s all.

Because as long as you had them then everything felt fine, you were happy and comforted. Safe. But now they want to take her. They want to take Visenya from you, from Aemond. They want to offer her up like livestock. All for what? For a war for some King that doesn’t deserve the title?

It can’t, they can’t take her; not from you, not from her home. Now like how they took you.

Yet….while you made your way to the council meeting, Alicent comes out of the hall you needed to turn to and immediately calls out your name as if it’s you who she had been searching for.

“Y/N.”

You slow down your pace and let her walk beside you as you’re determined to march in the room and demand every pompous Lord gathered around the table to change their word.

“Before you storm in there let us talk,” she says and grabs your arm to pull you aside to some empty room.

“What about?” You probe and glance back at the wooden door. “Aemond is waiting for me at the council meeting.”

He chose to leave earlier because of some excuse that his grandfather needed to talk to him privately. So he left you behind.

Alicent nods. “Yes. I know. We will go in a moment, let us talk first.”

You sigh and clasp your hands together in front of you. “All right.”

Alicent swallows thickly and walks over to a small round table to take a seat on one of the wooden chairs. You’re hesitant as you see that she seems to want to take her time, but time isn’t going to speed up faster if you stay up, so you let out a small breath and fix the chair beside her to be able to face her.

“Is everything okay?” You ask softly.

Alicent nods. “Yes, everything is fine…I just wanted to discuss what we will be discussing about in today's meeting.”

Oh. It should've been predictable.

You scoff and blink to watch your hands as you twist your ring around. “Did…Aemond send you to talk to me?”

Alicent sighs, and when you look at her, her lips form to a small frown. “No…he wanted to talk to you himself, but I thought that maybe it would be better if we talked.”

You drop your gaze and gently bite your lip before you huff out of your nose and jump to what this conversation is about. “Visenya is a baby. She is only four months old….” You let out a small shaky breath, and clench your jaw so you could fight back your tears.

“She’s my baby and they want to offer her away…” you pause and sniffle. “I don’t want them to take her away.”

Alicent let’s out a soft breath before you feel her hand on yours. “I know,” she whispers. “I know exactly how you feel….”

You lift your gaze and meet hers.

“…I am a mother too. I too have a daughter who was once as small as baby Visenya,” she continues. “I swear to you I know your grievance…but…you have to understand that Visenya is a Princess with Dragon Blood in her. She is a High Born Lady with Lannister Blood. She has duties that she must follow, as you did once too. As you still do.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I know that but I cannot fathom being apart from her, marrying her off to some stranger. To someone who might hurt her.”

Alicent scoffs softly as if it’s amusing. “I don't think you need to worry about her getting hurt, she already has a dragon born to her,” she tries to assure you. “With time I am sure both you and Aemond will teach her to wield a blade even if people are against it.”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile over her words.

“She will be fierce just like her namesake, like her mother.” Alicent smiles. “And if it’s a stranger you’re worried about…Aemond and you were once strangers, and look at you now, you’re both inseparable. My son loves you. I could have not asked for a better Gooddaughter. So maybe that’s what awaits for Visenya too. If not she will be a Lady of her own home. A mighty one at that.”

Alicent lifts your hands and cradles them tighter, she leans forward to be closer, whilst you stay quiet and listen to her every word.

“She will be promised a good life, and she will not leave until she comes of age, years from now,” Alicent continues. “Aemond will not let that little girl out of her sight so young, you know that. And…think of the advantage this match could bring. This alliance might be what keeps your family safe, and bring the power we need to fight what could come.”

No one could protect her more fiercely than you and Aemond, but…

“If you do not have a desire to fight for Aegon,” she says in a whisper. “Then do it for the love you harbor for my son, for my granddaughter.”

…she’s right. About it all. Even if it pains every muscle in your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble and drop your head. “I just want to keep my daughter safe….that’s all I want.” Tears escape past your eyes, but you quickly pull your hand from Alicents grasp to wipe them off.

“I understand,” Alicent interjects before she wraps you in an embrace. “I do.”

You’re caught off guard a bit by her embrace, but once the surprise passes you wrap your arms around her and sink in her arms.

She lets you stay for a moment, she lingers in the embrace as well and doesn’t pull back until a knock raps on the door. When it’s relieved who was at the door, a servant announces that The Hand is demanding her presence at the meeting, so…you both go.

You both head towards your previous destination, to the chamber full of men, all of them already lost in conversation without having the manners to wait for Alicent. They only pause once she walks in because of courtesy, but if she had been someone else, if you had walked in alone that same courtesy would have not been shared.

Albeit you must exclude Aemond from your judgment, he was sitting amongst them but was quiet, only listening to what had been discussed, and only in attendance because Visenya was going to be talked about, otherwise he wouldn’t have shown.

Then again…war is an unavoidable thing so he might be attending these meetings more often.

“We were just discussing the alliances in our midst,” Lord Otto shares once Alicent takes her seat; this time beside Aegon since he was now the head of these meetings.

You on the other hand take your spot behind her, just like how it was in every meeting since she asked you to accompany her.

Yet today there was another wine fetcher in the room, and beside Aemond was one empty seat.

“Please,” Aegon interjects with a smug smile. “Take a seat, My Lady.”

You blink in confusion and look to Alicent, who offers you a faint smile, and then to Aemond, who offers you a single assuring nod before he stands up to wait for you to take your seat.

You’re hesitant at first though and slowly approach your seat before you sit and get pushed in, joining everyone around the table this time. As one of them.

“From now on,” Aegon continues, and pulls your still slightly shocked gaze to him. “I want you to be apart of these meetings as one of my advisors. You and my brother.”

Even after all the teasing? All the banter? All the discreet side eyes and dirty glares? You? A woman?

“Thank you,” you tell Aegon in disbelief. “Truly. I am honored.”

Aegon smirks before he leans back and drinks from his cup of wine, letting the previous conversation continue.

“The houses that will stand with Rhaenyra if need be are The Starks; they’re loyal to their oaths,” Lord Otto shares. “House Arryn because of the blood they share, and of course House Velayron.”

“That leaves House HighGarden, House Tully, House Greyjoy, and House Baratheon,” Lord Wylde continues for her father.

“We will send a raven to each House, remind them of their oaths to the Crown, and tell them to pledge loyalty to Aegon,” Lord Otto says.

“Perhaps along with our message to Storms End, we can send a proposal. Lord Borros has children, all free to marry after all,” your uncle suggests. Once again. “I’m afraid Prince Jaehaerys is too young to marry his daughters, that leaves his newborn son.”

You lower your gaze and clench your jaw as you know where this is headed.

“I suggest we offer to match my niece, Princess Visenya,” your uncle continues; and you feel his stare on you. “She carries Targaryen blood as well as Lannister blood, it’s a far worthy match.”

You slowly look up and meet his gaze for a brief second; with no anger, no happiness, just…sadness and acceptance.

“Yes,” the Lord Hand agrees. “Borros won’t turn down the offer. Especially not when it’s known the princess already has bonded to her dragon.”

Alicent turns her head and looks between Aemond and you. “Aemond, y/n, what do you think?” She asks.

Aemond and you share a gaze that you both understand without needing to speak since he knew his mother had convinced you already.

“Yes,” you interject for the both of you, feeling Aemond’s gaze on you. “I agree, we should offer to match Visenya to Lord Borros' son. It should be an honor to him to receive such a highly valuable match. Besides, it would secure his alliance with Aegon.”

Aemond hums in agreement, and as you keep your hands on your lap, you suddenly feel his warm and soft hand hold yours. When you look over at him his gaze is already on you, making you smile softly in relief.

“We will go and give him the proposal in person,” Aemond adds and looks back to the members of the council without even thinking twice, or even asking about letting you accompany him.

“Yes,” his grandfather nods in agreement. “That would work excellently in our favor, it would show we value their allegiance. Aegon?”

All eyes go to him, and he slowly lowers his cup from his lips and hums before speaking, “yes, that would be great. Go, the both of you, it will be more favoring that way.”

You let out a small sigh and look between all of them, and feign a smirk. “Thank you,” you say out of courtesy. “We will not let you down.”

——

For him. For her.

You sigh and look up at the grand tower on the rock by the water. Just like Casterly Rock.

Except here the sun didn’t shine brightly, clouds covered the sky and made the day look like night. Wind thrashed violently, and the rocks that surrounded the castle seem sharper, violent.

This is Visenya’s future. This one tower.

“Oh gods,” you murmur as you walk away from Vhagar. “<This is where my daughter is going to live?” You comment in Valyrian in case there was anyone lurking nearby.

“<It’s so depressing,” Aemond adds to the judgment as well. “Perhaps her dragon will eat her betrothed in due time.>”

You hum along, and once you walk undercover Aemond stops you. “<It’s you who once told me not to let your emotions get the best of you, no?”>

You drop your gaze and slowly turn to face him.

He closes the gap that’s left between you and caresses your chin before he cradles your cheeks. “<I love our daughter, you really think I want to marry her off to some Baratheon dimwit? No. But this is what is best. It is our duty, as it will be hers. We cannot let our emotions blind us.>”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile, and you simply nod in comprehension. Aemond holds your gaze and offers you a faint smirk before he steals a kiss from you.

When you pull apart you smile faintly at him before stroking his lips with your thumb as you hold his gaze. He proceeds to smirk and looks at you up and down before he leans in and whispers.

“<You look fucking beautiful in your riding outfit.>”

You grin and bat your lashes. “<Do I?>” You probe sweetly.

He hums.

You glance at his lips before you grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for a deep tender kiss. Aemond grabs your face with both hands and kisses you back with more passion.

“Come on,” you say between breaths. “We shan't keep the Lord waiting.”

Aemond kisses you one more time before he meets your gaze and agrees, letting you both pull away completely and continue towards the castle gates.

Once upon them, guards come out and don’t ask who you are, they notice Aemond’s silver-white hair, his eyepatch, and step aside and open the doors to let you walk inside the cold and dimly lit castle. The moment you stride inside the Maester meets you.

“Prince Aemond,” he greets and bows his head. “Lady Lannister, welcome to Storms End. Lord Borros is waiting inside.” The man stands up straight and turns to walk the both of you to the grande hall.

And as mentioned the grand Lord Borros was already sat upon his chair, four dark haired women stood at the side, his own council stood close by, and all their eyes landed on you the moment the guard stepped up to announce your entrance.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen, son of Late King Viserys, and his Lady wife, Y/N Lannister!”

Aemond and you stride towards the Lord with confidence, without falter.

“Lord Borros,” you break the silence once you stop in front of the stairs. “Thank you for receiving us in your home on such short notice.”

Lord Borros hums and lifts his chin. “I am quite curious as to why I have the honor of receiving you today, so out with it.”

How kind.

“We are here as envoys for King Aegon,” Aemond says. “As you well know, my father passed, and in his last breaths he wished for his firstborn son to be named King. Your King. Now, hm,” he sighs and clasps his hands behind him. “It seems Rhaenyra Targaryen wants to usurp my brother's title.”

“And what?” Lord Borros quips.

You scoff. “King Aegon wants you to pledge loyalty to him, he hopes you could give your swords and bannermen to ally with him if it’s a war Princess Rhaenyra wants.” You continue for Aemond. “In exchange…” you breathe out. “We offer a proposal, when our daughter Visenya Targaryen comes of age, she shall marry your son. Let us join our houses Lord Borros.”

Lord Borros let’s out a deep breath and scoffs as he smirks. “So the Lion bows to the Stag, here I thought the day would never come. What would your father say?” He chuckles.

You scoff, and feign a soft smile. “It was my father and uncle who suggested it. So I’ll say they are quite honored, Lord Borros.”

“Hm.” He shifts in his seat and glances at Aemond. “What keeps me from accepting an alliance with the Princess if she bothers to show?”

Aemond clears his throat and steps forward. “Whatever it is you need. But I do hope you know, with our pact comes no…dishonesty,” he snickers. “When our children come of age, my daughter will be accompanied by a dragon. When they have children of their own, our grandchildren will each have one of their own. And is there no greater glory than joining three grand houses?”

You keep your eyes on the Lord and see him glance at his people for a brief moment before looking back at you.

“All right, I will accept the King's proposal, I will give my swords and bannermen, and accept the match between my son and your daughter.”

Both Aemond and you smirk, and you nod and add, “thank you, Lord Borros.”

“Did you bring the babe with you?” Lord Borros asks. “My wife might be curious to meet our daughter to be.”

You shake your head and can’t help but smile at the thought of her. “No, unfortunately. Visenya is home. Perhaps we can return another time so the children can meet.”

He scoffs, and changes the subject to matters of money and dates, and doesn’t let you even say a peep, he makes Aemond talk the entire time. Actually you’re quite lucky he actually even addressed you today and didn't just view you as Aemond’s accessory.

Regardless as they talked, sometime later an announcement then cuts them off. “Prince Lucerys Velaryon.”

You turn around and see the boy alone, surrounded by Baratheon Knights. Aemond also turns before slowly walking to your side to look over at his nephew, as he looks at him…with shock

“Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen,” the Knight continues.

Thunder claps in the sky and breaks Lucerys from his stupor. “Lord Borros, I brought you a message from my mother, the Queen.”

Aemond and you share a judgemental look over the boy's words.

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros says. “Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.” He proceeds to chuckle alone before finally questioning the boy's intentions. “What’s your mothers message?”

Lucerys puts out the scroll in his hand so the Knight can take it to his Lord. And once the Knight walks off, Lucerys glances over at Aemond again, as if he’s afraid your husband will just disappear to then attack him.

“Where’s the bloody maester?!” Lord Borros exclaims.

And in the wait, you see Lucerys hold his swords handle before looking ahead again as he waits.

“Remind me of my fathers oath,” Lord Borros says. “King Aegon at least came with an offer, my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” he glances over at Aemond and you, causing you both to show off a sly smirk as Lucerys looks and pieces together what the offer was, who you were matching together.

“If I do as your mother bids,” Lord Borros continues. “Which one of my daughters will you wed? Boy.”

“My Lord,” Lucerys interjects. “I am not free to marry, I'm already betrothed.”

“So you come with empty hands,” Lord Borros says. “Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Without any falter Lucerys responds, “I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord.”

Aemond sighs, and Lucerys turns to begin heading out. Yet, Aemond then stops him. “Wait. My Lord Strong.”

You glance at Aemond out of surprise and slight confusion, but don’t show it when you return your gaze to Lucerys as he turns and walks back.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?” Aemond throws out.

“I will not fight you,” Lucerys tells him. “I came as a messenger, not a warrior.”

“Fight will be little challenge,” Aemond counters. “No.” He then surprises you by pulling off his eyepatch and showing off the sapphire underneath it. “I want you to put out your eye. As payment for mine.”

You stiffen at his threat and take a step closer to Aemond.

“One will serve,” Aemond continues without breaking eye contact, whilst he pulls back his coat to unsheath his dagger and throw it at the boy's feet. “I will not blind you. Mm.” He smacks his lips. “Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

Lucerys looks down at the blade before slowly looking back at Aemond, and snapping back, “no.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor,” Aemond rebuttals, making Lord Borros interject as he senses the tension rising.

“Not here.”

However, Aemond then charges at the boy as he exclaims out, “give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!” He picks his blade off the ground and Lucerys pulls out his as Aemond continues to charge at him.

“Aemond,” you exclaim and step forward. “Not here! Not in this hall.”

Without hesitation Aemond comes to a halt a few feet away from Lucerys.

“Prince Lucerys came as an envoy to Lord Borros,” you remind him. “Not as a warrior.”

“I will not have bloodshed beneath my roof,” Lord Borros interjects. “Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Lucerys sheaths his sword and the Knights then accompany him out, letting Aemond flip his sword around in his hand before putting it away.

Yet you don’t feel at ease, you know him, you can read him now. You know this wasn’t going to stop him.

“Our apologies,” you say outloud and turn to face the Lord. “Lord Borros.”

Said man sits back down and releases a deep breath.

“We must go now,” Aemond adds. “Thank you for your loyalty. I hope we return in time so our children may meet.” Aemond turns around without adding more, and you turn after him to match his quick stride out of the castle.

“Aemond,” you call out, but to no avail. You step out into the rain and call to him again, but he continues to storm over to Vhagar. “Aemond!”

Said man stops just under the archway and turns to face you right in front of him. “Stay here,” he says and grabs your arms. “I will return.” He presses a kiss on your forehead and steps back.

“What will you do?” You ask before he can turn. “Take me with you.”

He sighs and holds your gaze. “No, my love, this is something I must do alone. I can not fathom the thought of you getting hurt—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Never,” he scoffs with a playful smirk. “Just a small…jest, is all.”

You clench your jaw and huff out. “Don’t let your emotions cloud you, Aemond.”

Said man smiles and reaches you again to caress your chin before kissing you once more. “I’ll be back for you,” he assures you.

“All right,” you whisper and watch him walk to Vhagar.

From the top of the dragon Aemond looks at you one more time before he makes the she-dragon fly off high into the sky. You watch them quickly disappear into the thick storm clouds, in the sheets of rain that fell down, and between the clapping thunder.

You wait for them in the same spot he left you at and watch the sky without daring to look away out of fear. You initially thought it was because of what Aemond could do, but you quickly know that the fear is for his life.

Lucerys might not be willing to fight, but the dragons tell a different story, they don’t follow those same rules their masters do. So yes, you fear for Aemond’s life because losing him now…would be like death.

So the longer you wait, the harder you feel your heart pound, the more you fidget with each ring on your finger, the more you worry grows. Until, finally there, coming down from within the clouds is Vhagar. She comes down and lands as close as she can get, but Aemond doesn’t get down, so you climb up.

Once you reach the top, he doesn’t meet your gaze, he lets you sit in your spot behind him without even saying a word. He just keeps his gaze downcasted , and his lips formed to a pursing frown.

He doesn’t seem hurt, neither does Vhagar, so this was something else. Something else made him quieter than he was already, something else made him frown and upset.

“Are you okay?” You try to ask.

Aemond nods stiffly and then makes Vhagar fly away. And the entire flight back home was painfully quiet. Aemond didn’t speak a word about what happened between him and Lucerys, nor did you ask him in that moment. Not even when you planted your feet back on the ground. You were going to give him his time, let him talk when he wanted to.

In the meanwhile you did talk to Vhagar.

“<You are such a good lady,>” you tell the dragon as you caress the side of her face as she leans in your touch.

“Y/N,” Aemond murmurs, making you pat Vhagar one last time before turning to face Aemond.

And that’s when you finally see it, read the emotions in his gaze.

His eye is wide. He looks baffled, but deeper than that he looks scared. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, to see him so upset.

“What is it?” You ask as you get close to him.

Aemond swallows thickly and lets out a deep sigh. “It was…Vhagar, she ate Lucerys.”

Everything in you goes rigid; your thoughts, your muscles. All you feel is disbelief, worry for what was to come from the council when they knew. Yet when you can begin to progress what Aemond said, you blink repeatedly and let out a deep breath before you close the gap between you and grab his arms.

“Okay. That’s—we will deal with it together.”

Aemond’s eye begins to cloud with a tear, and his frown seems to deepen.

“We will have to send her away,” he blurts out, referring to only one person; Visenya.

He was referring to her. Little baby Visenya.

Once again you go rigid, this time denial begins to infiltrate, as well as anger.

“She…” his words trail off as your eyes fall to the ground and you repeatedly blink in disbelief, as you swallow down his words, as you gather your thoughts.

It just he couldn’t send her away. Not her. She couldn’t leave—she needs you. She’s just a baby. She needs him. You need her. She can’t leave.

“No,” you cut him off and blink to meet his gaze. “No,” you repeat. “No!” You shove his hands off you and shoot him a burning glare. “You said she would stay! She isn’t supposed to leave me yet! She—-”

“They will demand blood for blood,” Aemond interrupts you and grabs your arms now. “Justice for what I did.”

You shake your head. “She’s a baby! She’s just a little baby! If they come for her I will kill all of them.”

Aemond sighs and grabs your face now. “Y/N. Listen to me. She cannot stay here, I will not let her stay here and risk having something happen to her. I will not allow it,”

Tears cloud your eyes as you grab onto his hands. “Then protect her. You can do it. I have friends, you’re skillful, just please don’t make me send her away.”

“My love,” he whispers softly. “My love, that is not enough. It pains me too, having to send our daughter away, but she will be safer—”

“No,” you cut him off as tears stream down your cheeks. “No place is safer than with us.”

Aemond let’s out a deep breath and doesn’t agree or get assured, he keeps his frown on, he stays looking sad. He doesn’t come up with a different plan.

“It will be with someone we can trust with our lives, someone who won’t be swayed by money or power. Someone loyal. Someone who can and will protect her with their life.” He says instead. “She cannot stay at Casterly Rock. No matter how many men your father has. She cannot go with my brother Daeron, she needs to go with someone no one will suspect.”

You slide your hands off his, drop your head and sniffle.

You know he’s right, you know it deep in your heart, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Y/N,” he says and lifts your head so you can meet his gaze. “You—”

“I know,” you cry, “I know someone. I know…I know people, but please she’s our baby, she needs us.” You grab his face in hopes that would sway him away from his already made up mind.

“I know.” He nods. “I know. But if something happens to her because she stays here, I will never forgive myself. If I lose her I won’t be able to endure it because she is blood of my blood, because she is my delight, our daughter. So send for them, those people you trust.”

You cover your mouth and clutch onto your stomach before stepping away from him and turning around to give him your back.

“Y/N,” he whispers, “I need you to understand. Say you do.”

You let out a stifled cry and then turn back around to face him with a faltering scowl.

Yet you can’t hold it, you can’t be mad or blame him. So you drop your head and let him approach you again to cradle your face and wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“Tell me,” he says.

You let out a shaky breath and meet his gaze. “Ser Robert,” you reveal the first person, and only person who you can fully trust without a fault to protect your daughter with his life.

“And…Nyra.” She may have chosen Aegon a year ago, she might’ve been sent home because of it, but if there’s anyone you trust to take care of Visenya, to trust to not let her forget you or Aemond, it’s her. The girl who never stopped being your friend.

“I’ll summon them,” you whisper.

Aemond nods in agreement before he leans his face closer. “She will take her dragon as well. It may be a hatchling, but it will grow, it can protect her too in time.”

You draw in a deep breath and nod slowly before sighing.

Aemond then caresses your cheeks before pressing a kiss on your head and pulling you in for a tight, comforting embrace.

“Do not worry my love,” he begins to assure you confidently.

You hug him back, clutch onto him so he wouldn't go. Like if your life depends on it.

“…we will kill them all so we can be together again,” he continues, making you pull back to face him.

“You swear?” You ask him as you hold his gaze.

He smirks and presses a kiss on your forehead one more time before he presses his forehead against yours and assures you, “we will kill them all.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- since I will put this on hiatus, maybe I can write a few side stories like the baby’s first kick, stuff like that??? Yes??

Tagged: @winter-soldier-101 @whateverooooooo @xcharlottemikaelsonx @blue-serendipityy @aistheamazing @lawlerek @hydrationqueensworld @out-of-life @claudie-080102 @ameagrice @stargaryenx @joniinoj

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ theon greyjoy x mermaid!reader headcanons ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

╰┈➤ in which something has always called theon greyjoy to winterfell's strange lake

a/n : seeing as winterfell is a landlocked city, I did have to improvise a bit, but I'm hoping you will find my take on this request reasonable <3

a special thank you to @angelseraphines for reading this for me as I was writing and making sure that my portrayal of theon didn't stray too far from his canon-self

╰┈➤ it is a strange thing - that the lake outside the city walls never appears to freeze over. the people of winterfell have speculated as to why for centuries. some say that the lake remaining as it is is a blessing from the old gods, a reassurance that the people will always have water to drink and a reminder that their gods will never abandon them. others pass down tales to their children of the children of the forest, and the traces they left behind - the weirwood tree and its roots dipped into soil, the soil that leads into the lake.

╰┈➤ theon greyjoy was not born of winterfell, but he had done his best to see it as his home. he had grown to see robb as his brother, and he cared for the rest of the starks too.

╰┈➤ in spite of his great desire to be a stark, a true part of the family, theon was always aware that his position as a ward was in truth the position of a political hostage, dangled in front of his father to ensure his loyalty to the crown.

╰┈➤ even as a boy, he was drawn to the lake. he would climb atop the city walls and sit in silence for quite some time, simply gazing pensively at the lake. it too was a strange and different thing - just as he himself was.

╰┈➤ as he grew older, his visits to the lake became less frequent - he found other ways to mitigate the strain on his heart. he would oft visit ros at the pleasure house, he'd practice his archery, he'd join tourneys. and yet, there was still something within the lake calling out to him, drawing him in - and he never truly could forgo his visits.

╰┈➤ it was on the eve of his eighteenth nameday that he encountered you for the first time. you had noticed him long ago, and you watched him during every of his visits, even allowed him to get a glimpse of the shine of your tail a handful of times. most of the mermaids beneath the lake were old and uninterested in the people that walked on land. there was a time when they lived in harmony with the children of the forest, but as the children were hunted down and brought to extinction, the mermaids of winterfell lake swore not to allow the first men or their descendants to ever lay eyes upon them.

╰┈➤ you understood their fears, truly you did - you could see the sorrow in the eyes of the eldest of your cove, a sorrow you know dates back six millenia. you feared the people that walked on land too, but you didn't fear theon. you sensed the war in his mind, you recognised the sense of not belonging. you sensed it because you felt it too, a young, naive mermaid in a lake of ancient beings - a young, naive mermaid, the first to be born in a thousand years.

╰┈➤ his eighteenth nameday was the first time he rode out of the city to spend his day on the shore of the lake, and you knew that this was the only opportunity you would ever get to see him up close. you crept closer to the shore, allowing your tail and the top of your head to rise slightly above the water's surface and keeping your eyes glued to the image of the man before you.

╰┈➤ he noticed you then, as you unassumingly lifted your head above the water - allowing yourself to glance at him. you knew your elders could not hear of this moment, for you knew how enraged they would be with you. you could not bring yourself to care, for as enamored as theon was with the lake, you were just as enamored with the towering, thick castle walls and the mystery of what lies beyond them. just as something kept calling the greyjoy lad to the lake, something kept calling you to the city.

╰┈➤ a man often accused of vanity by the whispers that surrounded him, theon was enraptured by the otherworldly atmosphere that seemed to surround you. your features were different to what he had been used to considering beautiful, but he found them enchanting to look at nonetheless. he considered capturing you, for a brief moment - he wondered if it would prove something to the starks, that it was only him that could lure a creature of the deep to the surface. he wondered if it would make lord eddard proud, or if it would solidify him as the ironborn he was supposed to be.

╰┈➤ he called out to you then, beckoning you to draw nearer. the people of the iron islands oft spoke of mermaids - of how the grey king was one, and of how he became the king of the western islands and all seas beyond, as well of the drowned god and the mermaids that serve him within the confines of his watery walls. his mother spoke to him of mermaids too, but her tales were always much gentler. she would say that the ironborn would find the most beautiful of mermaids and take them to bride, that the half-fish women would shed their tails for legs and bear their husbands the most beautiful of children, part sea and part land - as all ironborn were meant to be.

╰┈➤ you crept closer to land, nearly close enough that he could reach a hand out to touch your shimmering skin, and yet with enough of a distance between you that you could turn around and return to the depths of your home. your first conversation could hardly be called much of a conversation, and while you could speak the common tongue ( you oft listened to the people speak within the walls, their voices booming and echoing through the cove beneath the city), you had a hard time figuring out what to say to him. for the most part, you simply looked at one another that very first day - until the day's end was near and the hour of the bat was drawing close.

╰┈➤ "I will return. when the sun's returned to the skies on the morrow, I will return. you best be here then." he spoke to you, a tinge of arrogance in his voice. it was as if he knew that you wouldn't defy his request, as if he knew his presence held some power over you - and it pleased him. he held so little power within the stark household, so the hint of it always inflated his sense of self. he knew that you too held some power over him, but he would not speak of it outloud.

╰┈➤ before he had encountered you, he had intended to visit ros that evening. instead, he returned to his chambers rather soon after dinner, content to sleep through the night and wait for the morning to come - the following morning he rose much earlier, quite soon into the hour of the nightingale. it was still dark out, but he wished to fulfill his duties for the day before he set out to see the lake, and the vision discovered the day before, once again. he usually wouldn't be permitted to leave the walls of the city two days in a row, but his nameday had just passed and lord stark was more lenient towards him during that time of the year.

╰┈➤ you waited for him until he arrived, choosing to draw near to the shore just as the sun appeared on the horizon. on this day, you were both much more relaxed. the moment he saw you smile he knew he had no intention of capturing you and bringing you to winterfell, content to keep these peaceful moments to himself - reluctant to share them with anyone else. you felt safer too, now that you had broken the ice and knew he wished you no harm.

╰┈➤ "speak to me of life beneath the waves" he demanded boyishly, that vein of arrogance pouring off his tongue. you minded not, noticing the sorrow beneath his gaze. you knew he was not born of here, and the people of the town oft whispered of the seaside boy taken from his home to come here. you knew it to be him the first moment you saw him dangling his legs off the castle walls. and so you spoke to him of life beneath the waves - of your sisters and brothers, all at least a millenium older than you, of the beautiful cove protected from the human eye and the ephemeral sights only you and your kin could lay eyes upon, of the elders and their refusal to allow you to draw near. he listened intently to all of it, hanging off every word of yours. he wanted to know all of it - wanted to know you more and more with every passing word that left your mouth.

╰┈➤ you spoke to him for hours on end. each time you declared to ask him a question too, he urged you to keep speaking. you spoke until the night drew nearer. he told you that he would return in half a moon's time, as he could not afford to leave the castle walls quite so often. "I will be here when you return, only if you will speak to me of life behind the castle walls" was what you said to him as he prepared to leave. he felt indignant at your words for a few passing moments, but reluctantly agreed to your request as he wished to see you again.

╰┈➤ the next time he returned, he had brought you something. a small iron pendant he acquired at the market, and he had given it to you teasingly, remarking that you should be flattered that the heir to the iron islands had deemed you worthy of such a gift. in truth, he spent the whole way to the lake pondering over if you would like it - and determining that you would with a small huff as his journey drew to a close. this time, he too spoke more freely - of his memories of the iron islands, of his family - mostly of his mother and her tales of mermaids. you laughed then and asked him if that was what he would desire, to which he winked at you playfully and told you that the possibility wasn't far off his mind.

╰┈➤ he spoke to you of what you asked of him too, of life in winterfell, beyond the walls you so often stared at. he spoke to you off lord stark, of his children and namely the boy he grew to consider his brother, robb stark. he spoke to you of archery, of his tourneys and his journeys. you listened just as intently as he had listened to you the last time you saw him. he didn't think he had ever felt this peaceful - at least not since the first time he sat atop the castle walls, the moment he first discovered the lake. as the pale hint of orange seeped into the blues of the sky, you reached out to him once and he grasped your hand in his for a few moments, opting to leave a kiss on the palm of your hand before he retreated to the city as the gentle dusk gave way to the dark night.

╰┈➤ he visited you as often as he could, without causing the stark family to worry whether or not he too was planning to incite a rebellion. he spoke to robb of you once, to assuage the concern his dear friend was beginning to show. he couldn't tell him the full truth, but he told him he met a girl who lived outside the castle walls near the city, and that he found pleasure in your company. he didn't give away too many details, but he was content knowing that robb wouldn't be too concerned with his frequent journeys. he didn't know that it was the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that reassured his friend, as opposed to the words he so craftfully weaved together.

╰┈➤ it was during his seventh visit to the lake that he kissed you for the first time. you were confiding your sorrows of your elders' distrust to him, and he leaned down to place a kiss upon your brow, as he had begun to do from his fifth visit onwards. you looked up at him then, and he couldn't help leaning down and placing a chaste peck upon your lips, before returning to deepen it. something changed between you and him then, and you began to behave more like lovers from then on.

╰┈➤ his visits to the pleasure house had already grown infrequent the moment he met you. he still had his needs, of course - but he found it hard to find time for them as he was oft attempting to finish with his duties on time to come visit you or attempting to find something in the city that he believed you would like and hide in your cove, to keep only for yourself as he had kept your encounters only for himself. now, however, he was content to accept that he wouldn't be returning there anytime soon, thoughts of you drowning out the idea of anyone else.

╰┈➤ your relationship with theon was a playful one. he oft teased you and you'd respond by splashing water onto his tail in response. his touches were rough but kind, and his kisses were sloppy but loving. you were both content to behave as if there was no distance between what you both were, preferring to banish the question of 'what comes next?' to the back of your minds.

╰┈➤ on his nineteenth nameday, a year into knowing you - theon brought you a small cloth with the image of a yellow kraken sown into it. it was the symbol of his house, and as he couldn't quite cloak you in the traditions of westerosi weddings, he deemed this to be the most likely way to proclaim his devotion. you could wear it on your wrist, claim to your elders that you happened upon it on the shores of the lake and kept it to yourself. you didn't consider yourselves wedded, but theon's prideful exclamations of binding the world's most beautiful creature to himself would stay with you evermore.

╰┈➤ this lighthearted atmosphere was unfortunately not to last. when theon informed you of the king's family arriving to winterfell within a few days' time, you felt an inexplicable feeling of dread come over you. he had noticed it then and assured you that all would be well, that they wouldn't stay that long and that he'd return soon. nothing could keep him away from you, now could it?

╰┈➤ it would be weeks before he'd come to see you again and the sight of him twisted and turned your heart as if tearing it apart. he appeared as lonely and conflicted as he was on the day you first encountered him, the sorrow in his eyes as prominent as ever, dark lines appearing under them. he spoke to you of bran and his accident, of lord stark's capture and of robb's intention to raise the banners and march down south. this time you were the one attempting to reassure him, right up until the very moment he told you that he intended to march down south with robb. you knew that you shouldn't have been as shocked and opposed as you were, but you were afraid. you didn't know much of land, but you always knew of war - of bloodshed, demise and misery. you promised to pray for him then, even if your kind hadn't truly prayed since the vanishing of the children of the forest. you promised to pray to the old gods and the drowned god, to the faith of the seven and any others of whose existence you would come to know of. you saw him off with a heavy heart then.

╰┈➤ you attempted to listen to the people of the city from within your cove for months on end, keeping your ear to the ground for any new information on theon's wellbeing. the townspeople were just as in the dark as you were, and it only made you feel more helpless. you could slowly feel the hope within you begin to fade away as the days dragged on - that was until you finally heard his name from within the city. what you heard however, wasn't what you were expecting to hear. theon greyjoy had captured winterfell.

a/n : and that's it for my first post on this platform! I wasn't quite sure how to end it, but I'm quite content with the way I did. if you guys do want a part 2 that deals with this dynamic with post-reek!theon, please do let me know 🩷 I hope you've enjoyed reading this, and if you did - please do make sure to let me know as feedback is so incredibly important to me. thank you so very much for your time and I hope that you'll consider reading other works of mine that I hope to post on this page soon <33

PS. please do forgive me for adding tags of other characters to this post - it's the first one I've ever made and I'm trying to get my page out for people to see. That being said, I have no intention of tagging characters I don't write for, so please make sure to request them as well if you're interested in seeing more from me.

[eraenaa]

Please Please Please (Modern AU)

Inspired by the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Politician Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Heartbreak is one thing; my ego’s another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker.

Warnings: Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Choking, Fingering, ¿Semi-Public Relations?, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 1,969

A/N: Quick little fic bc the music gods blessed us with new pop anthems <3

The lion’s pride. As a Lannister, you and the whole of your family had a great deal of it. Great lengths are made to maintain it, especially when you are pitted in the arena of the public eye. Every decision you made was calculated, and every action has a reaction that you meticulously premeditated. Nothing less than perfect and respectable could be accepted. Sensibilities must always be in check, but after meeting him, it seemed to fall out of your head. 

Aemond Targaryen. An up-and-coming figure in the scene of politics. A second son of the infamous family of the Targaryens. A waving red flag you had ignored, for you were too distracted by every other aspect of him. 

You remember the day you met him fondly. You were forced to attend a gala. Your family needed to push a figure of unity for the upcoming election; in consequence, you had to participate in endless events pitting you in the eye of the public. You were standing next to your father as he introduced you to other influential members of his party when, from the side of your eye, you caught a figure walking into the event hall, dressed in all black, striding and making his way through the crowds effortlessly. You were stood a few leagues away from him, but you already felt this aura of confidence that strode dangerously close to arrogance. You barely caught a clear glimpse of him, but there was this domineering and authoritarian presence in him that was needed in leaders that had solidified your attraction. 

Aemond has had his eye on you for quite some time now. The golden girl, they liked to call you—the celebrated daughter of House Lannister, the girl who was perfect on paper. Everything you had done in your life had only added to the pride and good standing of your family, and Aemond could not help but be intrigued. He strode into the room, always catching everyone’s attention, but yours was the only one he sought for. When he finally caught your eyes from across the room, he inwardly smirked to himself and strode to where you stood with your father. “Ah, Aemond,” Your father greeted the other member of his party with civility. “Sir Lannister,” You hear him greet, and you clenched your jaw as you hear the deep, velvety tone of his voice. “This is my daughter; I don’t believe you two have been introduced yet,” Your father said, and you turned your full attention to him. Aemond led out his hand for you to shake, and he felt a chill run down his spine as your hands clasped around each other. 

“Nice to meet you,” You said with a small smile. The same smile was reserved for when you met your father’s other colleagues. You hear him hum and watch as he gives a nod, reserved and quiet, an exact depiction of what you read of him. You stood there quietly for a few moments as they talked of business, trying to ignore the eye that had been entranced by you. When there was a pause in their conversation, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar on the side of the room to refresh your drink, a figure closely following behind you. 

Things were quick to escalate from there from only having to be formally introduced to Aemond mere moments ago to him and you engaging in juvenile activities in a nearby coat closet. There was a lapse in your judgment as you engaged in such activities. Letting your lips dance with your father’s colleague, letting his solid and cold hands roam your body, not at all cautious that with just one swing of the door, you two would succumb to scandal. 

“Aemond,” You called as you gripped his long, silvery locks. His lips were too preoccupied with peppering kisses on your neck and collarbone to respond. You feel his hand inch higher towards your bosom, placing it flat as he palmed your tit. “Who knew their golden girl could be so… lewd?” Amend hummed, and you rolled your eyes as you hated that nickname. “You’ve only just met me, but you had no hesitation as I led you here,” He mused and nipped your skin, not at all wary that it would leave a mark. “Are you complaining?” You asked breathlessly, staring at his sapphire-colored eye. You feel your core tighten as a devilish smirk rose to his lips. “No,” he replied and kissed your lips once more. 

It did not take long after that encounter before you two were noted to be entirely fond of one another. 

There were great reservations. Your older brother taking the lead to voice it on behalf of your family. “Wh—why him? You are aware of his… demeanor?” You pursed your lips. “I am, and he is not as rash and cold as you think,” You defended. “But why did you have to choose someone from father’s party— it is a complete conflict of interest.” You rolled your eyes, “How is it a conflict of interest? For it to be a conflict of interest, it has to be with someone from the opposing party, does it not?” You countered. Your brother shook his head disapprovingly, “He is from the opposing party. Father is not completely sold on his allegiance. He still thinks your little boyfriend’s decision to join our side is a shallow rebellion against his family’s— nothing but a ploy!” Your brother almost screamed, and you stayed quiet as your calculating and cautious self had overlooked the possibility.

That thought bothered you tremendously, and it was noticeable. Aemond frowned as he placed kisses on the valley of your breast, and his hand was threading closer to your cunt, but no reaction came from you. “Are you well?” He asked as he pulled away, placing a small gap between your bodies. Your back was rested on the headboard of his bed, your mind was far off, and you could not even enjoy his pleasurable actions. You stared into his eye and licked your lips. “What’s your plan?” You suddenly asked, and you watched as his face folded in confusion. “What do you mean?” He asked and sat straight before you, his cold hand placed on your warm thigh. 

“Why did you suddenly join my father’s party? For decades, our families have been known for their opposing views… why then did you suddenly join?” You asked and watched as his lips thinned. “If you wanted political and career advancements, it would make more sense if you stayed in your family’s party. Why then do you join ours when you would have to start all over again?” You asked in doubt, fearing that it was indeed all a ploy and the relations between you were just another part of it. That in the end, whatever you do will not only end in heartbreak but worse, your reputation will be tarnished. Aemond was silent, and that put further skepticism in you. Your mind conjures up future scenes where the public will come to know that your relationship was filled with deceit, his way to slither into your father’s political party— subjecting you and your family to embarrassment as you had been seduced by him and his lies. 

“It’s true that if I had stayed with my family’s party, my career would have advanced greatly. But it is a dead end.” You frowned at his words, trying not to be distracted by the day his hand would caress your skin. “It is a lost cost. I had never believed and aligned myself with their political beliefs and values; having to run and represent things I don’t believe in is, for me, practically career suicide,” You pursed your lips and assessed his eye, trying to find sincerity in him. People often say that he was a good actor, keeping his dealings and reactions to himself so no one could use them against him. 

Aemond could not help but smirk as you stared him down, his hand on your thigh inching higher as you did your calculations. “Why? Did you think I was using you?” He asked quietly. His eye darkened when you bit your lip and slowly nodded, a bit wounded that you would think as such. However, he could not honestly blame you because if he were in your position, he would also be skeptical about himself. You parted your lips to speak, but words died on your tongue as you felt Aemond cup your cunt. 

“They always said you were a fast learner… so best to engrave this in your pretty little head,” Aemond hummed as his lips threaded closer to yours, his fingers gliding against your folds, a whimper escaping your lips. “I’m not with you for political advancements… I’m with you simply because I want you, you alone.” He swore and intertwined your lips, swallowing your moan as he slipped his finger inside. Aemond smirked as you parted your lips, needing air as he curled the digit, feeling your cunt clench around him tightly. 

You clung to Aemond’s neck as he dipped down and captured the taut bud of your tit into his mouth, his teeth nibbling your skin, making you whimper. Aemond added another finger as he felt your grind your cunt against his hand in want of more; his thumb lay flat on your nubbin and drew circles, your moans echoing through the room. “More… Aemond— please, please, please, I want more,” You moaned. His fingers were pleasurable, but your body needed the whole of him. You hear him hum and watch him through glazed eyes as he removes his fingers, bringing them to his lips as he cleans your essence. “You want more?” He asked, and you nodded fervently, bordering on desperation. “Then who am I to deny?” He smirked as he switched your positions, him resting his back on the headboard and you straddling his waist. 

Your head tilted back, and your jaw went slack as his cock slipped inside you, sheathing itself perfectly in your cunt, the tip of it hitting the spongey spot that made you lost and unaware of your surrounding. The place that made all sensibilities fly out of the window and make your judgment muddled. “So pretty…” Aemond praised breathlessly, watching as you bounced his cock. Your tits heaving against him, your lips parted as you spewed out your moans. Aemond placed his hands on your hips and guided you, his thrust deep and harsh, just as you liked it. 

Aemond felt you take hold of one of his hands, guiding it toward your throat, and he groaned out in pleasure as you urged him to choke you. Your cunt clenching painfully and pleasurably around his length as he did your request. You moaned as you felt the cool metal of his ring imprint itself on your throat. You were close, and your desperate movements hinted that to Aemond. “Is my pretty girl going to come?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth, his own release coming quickly as well. “Aemond… god, Aemond!” You called as you came undone, your body hunching over his, and he sought out your lips, kissing them as he spilled himself deep inside your cunt. 

You breathed heavily, your mind trying to regain focus, but it was difficult as Aemond drew soothing circles on your skin as you came down from your high. “Do me a favor?” You asked breathlessly, Aemond’s cock still deep inside you and the flaccid length growing stiffer by the moment. “Anything,” He answered and tried to capture your lips, but you swiftly backed away. “Don’t fucking embarrass me,” You said in seriousness, and Aemond smirked at your words. “Never.” He swore and sealed his oath with a kiss.

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