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youraverageaemondsimp · 1 year ago

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Entangled. // Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers

MDNI ; reader discretion is advised.

Summary: after so much loss, you had been betrothed and later married off to aemond as a means to put an end to the war, he takes you to harrenhal where you meet his mistress, Alys rivers. What can possibly unfold?

WARNINGS: dubcon (I'm not sure but I'm adding it just to be safe), unprotected sex, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, tiddy sucking, m/f/f, cunnilingus, threesome, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, polygamy(?), witch stuff, aemond x alys, alys x reader, aemond x reader, canon typical incest, war, loss, slight angst, slight fluff, contains spoilers for fire and blood, canon divergence, reader doesn't have a description. + not proofread.

A/N: here's a fic as promised before I leave for 2 weeks due to mid terms! hope you all enjoy it! // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WC: 2.8k

The war was devastating to you and your siblings, having lost both luke and jace, you were terrified for your life as well as your younger sibling's.

You watched as your family fell apart, slowly but surely, all of them ended up dying, leaving you and your younger siblings alone and estranged. The moment you heard your stepfather, daemon's, death; you knew that it was over, there was no more winning anymore.

Especially with Aemond surviving the fight.

Loss, Grief, and Sorrow were emotions you became familiar with.

You had to anyway.

Because with war, there would always be the plague of such pessimistic emotions that would follow, with every news it will only grow stronger.

Alas, the greens ended up winning the war.

And Alicent, as a way to make sure none of this repeats again, has quickly betrothed you to her second son, prince regent, Aemond, while your younger brother Aegon III was betrothed to Jaehaera.

It's not as if you and Aemond were on bad terms before the war, it would rather be described as more… tolerable. Aemond didn't hold any feelings towards you, neither negative nor positive.

Is what you had taught.

Until you found out that halfway through your wedding procession that it was Aemond who proposed the idea of marrying you to him, Alicent had only planned for Aegon and Jaehaera's betrothal.

You exchanged your vows half heartedly, and as soon as the wedding had ended, Aemond wasted no time and immediately whisked you away with him to Harrenhal, which he inherited and resides there to rule rather than at the keep.

You had not spoken a word to him ever since the departure. You did not want to.

Harrenhal looked and felt ominous, everything about it screamed danger, whether it was the rumours about the curses that surrounded this place, or just the overall aesthetics and appearance of it, it scared you.

You knew that it was destroyed and basically melted during Aegon's conquest, but it seemed Aemond had tried his very best to rebuild the place, yet the result was more horrific than it was ‘fixed’ you would've preferred if it had been just left untouched.

Aemond, wanting to go all the way with the formalities, he gave you a tour of the castle, before stopping in front of his chamber, a private residence where only he is allowed, “This is our chamber.” He said.

Ah yes, it also belongs to you now, doesn't it? You are his wife after all. You nodded, not wishing to speak to him, the guard opened the door.

As you both entered inside, there was already a woman who seemed to be waiting, as if she knew you both would be coming. “Aemond, you have returned.” She stood up from her seat, putting the book down, addressing him informally.

Not your grace, my prince or any formal title, just Aemond.

You took note of her appearance, hair as dark as the night sky, eyes that resembled emeralds, donning a valyrian steel necklace.

Alys rivers.

Aemond's mistress.

“Alys, I have not permitted you to enter my chambers.” Aemond speaks calmly, not realising the awkward situation that has occured with you in the room. “Oh come on Aemond, do not be so cold, Is she your wife?” She turned the conversation to you and you wished the ground would swallow you whole because of the tension in the air.

“Yes, she is.” Aemond confirms and she hums, “And you must be his mistress.” You speak, breaking the silence you maintained all throughout, acknowledging her presence, catching her by surprise. “Oh? You're know of me?” she asks and you nod, “How can i not? When there's words of your presence infiltrating every corner of the world, after all, Who could the prince have taken as a mistress after his betrothal to Floris broke?” You question, eyebrows raised, you see Aemond visibly tense, likely feeling the tension now.

“What have you heard of me, Princess?” Alys asks, tilting her head to the side, “That you are very beautiful, eyes that shone brightly like the stars amidst the night sky; that is your hair.” You tell her truthfully making her lips break into a smirk, “And what else?” She doesn't break eye contact, it's your turn to smirk now, “That you must wield powers, which you had used to bewitch the prince.” You watch as her smirk turns into a smile, “What exactly are you implying princess?”

“That you are a witch.” You put implication on the word ‘witch’, Aemond coughs awkwardly and her chuckle breaks the silence and you giggle as well, “And what do you think of it?”

Why was she so curious to know of your opinion?

“Mhm, I cannot speak for everyone, but I do not believe it, I can say that for sure.” You tell her your opinion, “And why is that so?” she asks, “Because- it's just my opinion.” you shrug and she smiles.

“Alys, you can leave now.” Aemond interferes, kicking her out and you give her a smile which she returns as she leaves the chambers. “I apologise.” Aemond expresses his apology. You simply ignore him, not wishing to speak to him.

He sighs in annoyance, “For fucks sake why can't you just talk to me? You were speaking a lot to Alys when she was here.” He breaks his formality and that's when you turn to him, “There you are uncle, I was getting bored with the formality you have shown me, pretending as though nothing happened, that your family did not just kill my family.” You say in anger.

“It's over now.” He says and you scoff, “Over?! What do you mean over?! What about the grief that I carry? The loss of my brothers, my mother, my father??! It's destroying me from the inside out!” You shout and Aemond stands still, looking down as if in regret.

“You are not the only one that has experienced grief.” He murmurs and before you can say anything, he lifts his head up and looks at you in the eyes and you immediately stop yourself from speaking.

That's right.

You aren't the only one that has experienced grief, you suddenly remember helaena and jaehaerys. You bite your lip in thought.

“I'm aware that you have experienced more loss than me, more grief than me, some directly caused by me, but that doesn't mean I'm not a victim of it either.” He sighs, “Either way, there is no use of dwelling over the past, we need to put our differences aside and make this work, you saw what happened. War will only make it worse.”

You hated that he was right.

You watch as he comes closer and you don't move away, he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, it feels so comforting, when was the last time you were held like this? You hug him back, burying your face into him, breathing his scent.

“I, I know this will not solve anything that has happened, or bring your brother back to life, but I apologize, I hope we can put our past behind us.” You hear him speak as you zone out in the comfort of his arms, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Ever since then, you and Aemond had grown closer a bit, trying your best to make everything work, he had bedded you during the days that followed, consummating your marriage. But he still laid with Alys.

You did not mind, because though you had gotten closer, you didn't always want to be around him and Alys helped you greatly with that, keeping him away from you.

You were sitting in the library of Harrenhal, reading on the chaise until you heard the door open and watched as Alys entered the room. “Greetings Princess.” She bows slightly and you raise your eyebrow, “You can drop the formalities Alys, you referring to me formally while being informal with my husband will make it seem like I'm that one mean wife who has forced herself between two star crossed lovers.” You close the book you were reading and she chuckles, “As you wish, Y/N.” she refers to you by your name and you smile. “What is that you require from me?” You ask and she shrugs, “I simply wanted to see you, see how you are doing.” She says and you nod, “Hmm.” you hum.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are delectable?” She suddenly says and you look at her, “I've gotten compliments, yes, but not to that extent.” you tell her honestly and she hums. “Well, you are extremely pretty. Almost makes me want to-” She interrupts herself with a cough and you raise an eyebrow, “Make you want to?” You question, and she looks at you, “Have you for myself.” She says directly to your face, catching you off guard. “Oh?” You smirk, “You wish to steal me from the prince? He might see it as an offence.” you tease and she chuckles, “Maybe.” She smirks and suddenly it feels as if the entire power dynamic has changed. You clear your throat in an attempt to deviate from this conversation and try to start another one.

Encounters like that had become more frequent with Alys, she was being flirty indirectly, she had even done it in front of Aemond to which he didn't bat an eye to.

You had tried your best to remain composed, only to find yourself in a situation you didn't quite expect.

Your legs were held spread open by Alys as she laid behind you, your back against her chest, you could feel the softness of her breasts against your back as she kissed your neck.

You gaze falls on Aemond who was currently undressing, he was taking off his breech which revealed his hard cock, to which he gave a few pumps to ease the tension, “Come on Aemond, don't take way too much time.” Alys coos and Aemond obeys, lining his cock to your cunt, sliding it down your fold, gathering the wetness on his cock and later placing his tip against your entrance.

He then slowly pushes inside, causing you to gasp and grip the sheets below, Alys’ hands travel up to your torso and she grabs your breasts, playing with the nipple as she continues placing kisses on your neck.

Aemond fully sheaths himself inside you, grunting when he feels you clench around him, “Fuck, I love this cunt so much.” He groans before drawing his hips back and pushing forward, thrusting. “I know right? Been wanting to taste it for a while, let me at it when you're done.” Alys replies to him, she turns your face sideways and presses her lips against yours, kissing you.

Aemond's tip prods at the sweet spot located inside of you, causing you let out a loud moan into Alys’ mouth to which she chuckles, one of her hands leave your breasts and go to your cunt, she rubs small circles on your clit, elevating the pleasure you're feeling, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you as you come all over his cock, clenching him, causing him to moan and eventually finish inside you. He pulls out slowly, his cock beginning to soften.

Alys is swift in her movements, moving from behind you to facing you from the front, she pushes you further up the bed before lowering herself down to the level where she is face to face with your cunt, she hums in delight as she watches Aemond's spend ooze out from you.

Her tongue collects some of it before she licks a long stripe up to your clit, before engulfing it completely with her moan, which causes you to throw your head back in place. Your hand flies to her head to grip it, your fingers locked in her tresses. You whimper as she pulls on your clit with her mouth, nibbling it. She travels a little down towards your hole and pushes her tongue inside, fucking you with it, her nose rubbing against your clit.

You watch as as Aemond begins to harden again, he positions himself behind Alys, grabbing her by her hips and lifting her lower body up, You feel Alys moan against your cunt as she feels him enter her, her body rocks back and forth as he thrusts into her, she uses your thighs as a leverage to keep her steady, annoyed by the fact that he's using so much force to the point her face keeps leaving your cunt, her tongue swirls around your clit which causes the band in your stomach to snap, you gasp out her name and she moans into your cunt as she reaches her orgasm, teeth clamping down onto your clit but not too harshly yet enough to cause slight sting. Aemond pulls out before he can finish inside her, finishing on her back.

Why did he not finish inside her?

The thought flies over your head as they swiftly change positions again.

Another round? You're already too overstimulated from the previous pleasure.

Aemond lays down and pulls you on top of him, you lay your hands flat against his chest and balance yourself, he lifts your hips up and lines his cock against your entrance again before sinking you down on it, letting out a groan. “Seven hells, I just can't get used to this cunt no matter how many times I take it.” He grunts, “Sit on my face, Alys.” He looks at her and she smiles, immediately obeying, she faces you and you watch as her cunt hovers right above his mouth before she descends to it, his tongue immediately capturing her sex.

You slowly start moving your hips, causing Aemond to groan against her cunt, one of his hands remains firmly on your hip as the other travels to Alys's thigh, gripping it for leverage.

‘This is what heaven probably feels like’ Aemond thinks.

You bounce up and down his cock, Alys leans towards you to capture your lips into a kiss and you let her, your hands roam all over her body before reaching her breasts, you give a slight squeeze to them, making her breath hitch. She kisses downwards your neck, to your breast before taking your nipple in her mouth.

She suckles on your tit while maintaining eye contact with you, and you can already feel the third orgasm of night beginning to build up. She moans with your breast in her mouth causing pleasant vibrations to shoot up your skin, it seems as if she had reached her peak.

She quickly get off of Aemond's face and he sits up, fully focusing his attention onto you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, you can feel the taste of Alys’ essence on his tongue as he shoves in your mouth, deepening the kiss, he ruts into you at a speedy pace and pulls away from the kiss, to watch your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts upwards.

His mouth descends onto one of them, tongue playing with the bud, flicking it up and down, “I can't wait to see these swell with milk when my seed takes, I bet you'd taste so fucking good.” He growls, biting your nipple making you wince.

And it isn't long before you reach your third orgasm of the night, moaning his name loudly as you finish on his cock, and he once again finishes inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed, painting your walls.

You fall slumped onto his shoulder, exhausted from all the intimate acts you have committed with Aemond and his lover, and practically your lover too now.

He pulls you off him and lays you down next to him gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you watch as Alys lays on your stomach, and she turns to press a kiss to your lower abdomen, right where your womb was located and whispers some words which you couldn't make sense of.

She then climbs up further and lays beside you, hugging you close to her chest and Aemond pulls you both into an embrace.

“She'll soon give birth to children that will look like the three of us.” Alys says to Aemond and he hums, “How?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows and she chuckles, “Maybe that being a witch rumour wasn't false after all.” She says and you gasp, “Though, I never really bewitched the prince, I never had to.” She chuckles and leans over to kiss Aemond before falling back to place.

You thought Alys was just bluffing and joking at that time, until you gave birth to twins months later.

Who ended up having features of all three of you, your son, having one emerald green eye and one purple eye with your hair colour, and your daughter with platinum blonde hair with your eye colour and facial features of alys.

You wondered how she'd done it.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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starogeorgina · 5 months ago

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𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

Pairing: Alys Rivers x reader x Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: Smut, hints of breeding & knife kink, slight dubcon (under the influence of magic), swearing

“Do you believe in what I tell you, princess?”

You were tense; the question felt like a trick, so you didn’t answer, and Alys continued to brush your hair, standing behind you at the vanity. Your stepfather, Prince Daemon, had warned you that there was more to Alys Rivers than meets the eye. She was a trickster, a witch. And nothing Alys said was to be believed. Especially when she just said you’d be married and have a child before the week was over, and your babe would end the brewing war between your family.

However, you did find her alluring, which was the only reason you kept her close.

The castle was dark and damp, but you found comfort in it. Daemon had left on Caraxes a few days prior to returning to Dragonstone, while you remained with your own dragon in case anyone’s loyalties started to sway when the green army eventually arrived.

“You don’t believe me now, princess, but in time you will.”

They said Harrenhal was cursed, and you had started to suspect the raven-haired beauty was one of the ghosts that haunted it.

—

You weren’t sure what happened. One moment you’re being informed your uncle has been spotted on Vhagar nearby, and the next Alys head is underneath the skirts of your thick black dress, buried between your thighs, making you temporarily forget about the looming threat. You throw your head back as you buck your hips upward, and Alys slides her tongue further inside you.

Climaxing, you lay back on the bed, feeling limp. You expect the other woman to stop, but soft moans start falling from your mouth again as quickly as they stopped when Alys starts licking your oversensitive clit.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good.”

Everything starts to become a haze of euphoria…

“Oh, little niece, I’m guessing the rumor of your virtue being intact was indeed only a rumor.”

You snap your head up, and you meet your uncle Aemond’s eye. How did he find you right away? Has someone told him where to find you? Did hearing your moans lead him right to you? Your mind was too fuzzy to think straight. You detested him. Kinslayer. Yet, Aemond, seeing you in such a vulnerable position somehow thrills you. You had wanted to wait until marriage before being touched. The stain of bastardy wasn’t something you ever wanted for your future children to experience.

“I am a maiden.”

Aemond scoffs, not believing a word you say.

“She speaks the truth, my prince.” Alys brings her head out from beneath your skirt and teases a finger between your folds, then slides it inside you. The intrusion was slightly painful, but not completely unpleasant. “Look at her face; see how she reacts to my touch. The princess has never felt pain or pleasure like it before.”

Aemond sits behind you on the bed, and the smile on his face fills you with nothing but hatred and venom.

“Craven!”

“You little-”

“Uh, gods!” You squeeze your eyes shut when Alys adds a second finger. She pushes the fabric hiding her hand up to your waist so your uncle can observe what she is doing to you. “I—I—”

You weren’t even sure what you were trying to say. Aemond notices your nails digging into your palms as your fists clench together and takes pity on you. He links your fingers with yours and holds your hand above your head until you climax again.

—

The last twenty-four seem like a hazy memory; you weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or magic causing everything to feel so... strange. You and Aemond married in an impromptu Valyrian wedding ceremony. One that would surely anger both your mothers, but in time they would see the benefits.

“It’s for the good of the realm.”

The witch's words echo in your head as she rubs circles on your clit while she uses her skilled tongue on the prince. You and Aemond sit beside each other on the edge of a large bed naked as Alys ‘prepares’ both of you to consummate your marriage. You still hated and blamed Aemond for what happened to your brother, but Alys convinced you that this would be mutually beneficial. You have gained the power of Vhagar as a dragon for the blacks, and Aemond would one day possess the power he seeks by marrying the heir to the throne.

A flurry of jealousy shoots through you as Alys gags on your husband's cock, but you can’t let either of them know that, so you hold her silky dark hair out of her face. You were equally possessive and proud, a trait of the dragon.

After a few more moments, you say, “Perhaps we should get on with it, uncle.”

Alys pulls away from the both of you; she wipes the saliva off her chin, then begins to undress. Aemond chuckles as he moves off the bed and stands between your legs. “Indeed, we should, wife. Lean back on the bed.”

When you lay back, Aemond lines himself up and slowly pushes his cock in. As you whine, feeling yourself being stretched around Aemond’s cock, Alys climbs onto the bed beside you and palms at your breasts. “In four moons, these will start to fill with milk to feed the prince’s babe. A healthy boy.”

The thought of you having heavy, swollen teats leaking with milk because of him causes Aemond to thrust into you faster. “You are mine to breed, and you’ll take my cock every night like a good wife until your stomach has swollen.”

“Day and night,” Alys giggles.

Feeling bold, you take one of Aemond’s hands, which is gripping your hip tightly, and bring it to your clit. Knowing what you want, he begins rubbing at it quickly. You didn’t want him to take pride in knowing how good he’s making you feel, so you latch your lips around Alys hard nipple to muffle your moans.

He groans, feeling you clench down on him. It doesn’t take Aemond much longer to spill his seed inside you, and even after he cums, his cock is still hard.

You remove your mouth from Alys breast. “Move up the bed.”

She does as you say, and you roll around on your stomach. Noticing Aemond’s clothes that have been tossed onto the floor, you bend down and retrieve his blade.

Alys stares at you wide-eyed when you spread her thighs open and use the blade to cut her small cloth off, then toss it back onto the floor. You had considered teasing her with the blade, but seeing the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunny, you decided to please her instead. You swipe your thumb through her folds, gathering wetness, before putting pressure on her clit. Arching your back, you look over your shoulder, hoping Aemond would have gotten the hint, but he looks lost in a trance, watching as your finger slides into the other woman with ease.

“Aemond…”

He takes the cue and slides his cock back inside you. His thrusts are rougher this time. You turn your attention back to Alys and start licking her clit while adding a second finger. Her soft moans encourage you to keep going, even after Aemond spills his seed inside you for a second time and makes you cum again with his fingers. You don’t stop sucking and licking at Alys clit until her thighs stop trembling.

You lean forward and rest your head on Alys soft breasts. Aemond slumps onto the bed, exhausted. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close. With one hand, you gently stroke the back of his long silver hair, and with the other, you run your thumb over Alys bottom lip.

“I believe in what you tell me.”

#house of the dragon #alys rivers x reader #Alys Rivers x you #Alys Rivers smut #aemond targaryen/you #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #Aemond Targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon smut #Aemond Targaryen #alys rivers #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond x reader

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cherryheairt · 2 months ago

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Dragon Dreamer pt. XIV

chapter fourteen

tags: @hueanhdang @beebeechaos @emery-aka-emmy @r-3dlips @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew @purple-1995 @littleblackcatinwonderland @fall-winter-heart97 @mandeepandee1997 @pedro-pascal-love @thelastemzy @reyndaisy @saintkittykat @theadharablack @thatkindofgurl @alexandra-001 @itsaslaminak @iv7867

After being 'haunted', as Cregan might have called it, Daenys was throughly disoriented throughout the rest of the night. Taken back to her chambers and held in Cregan's protective embrace, she told him of what she saw.

Frowning, he could only offer her words of his Northern wisdom. "Your brother wouldn't blame you for that. Nor the Princess or young Prince." He said, soothing a piece of hair behind her ear.

In the dim light, she looked up at his porcelain features. The white light of the moon made him look statuesque, with only small scars along his face disrupting the smoothness of his skin. The largest being the one across his chin, from the fall he took as a boy. Delicately, she traced over them, then to the faint freckles dotting the apples of his cheeks.

Finally, she nodded. "Mayhaps he would not. That doesn't change the fact that it is true. If I had flown down to Storm's End that night...Aemond wouldn't have killed Lucerys."

Cregan lifted a straight brow, "how could you know that? He might have simply taken you both, to spite the Queen by taking two of her children."

She shook her head, "I don't believe he killed Luke to spite my mother. He must have known Luke would be sent to the closest place to find an ally, just as he was. Years ago, when Luke took his eye, he became a completely different person. Because of Vhagar or his eye, I do not know." She sighed.

"Anyone with a dragon is dangerous—intentions be damned."

Daenys smiled shortly, huffing a laugh. "Am I so dangerous to you?"

Cregan matched her smile, running a thumb over her cheek. "Indeed, the fierce dragon of the South, who rides the Lightbringer. A fearsome sight." He paused, "I would hate for you to face Vhagar again. I have only heard tales of her size and ferocity, but I can only imagine given the sight of Caraxes and Morningstar."

Tensely, she nodded. "As big as Harrenhall itself, perhaps. Or Dragonstone, I do not quite know. If I had gone alone, I would not be here now."

"The same goes for the incident at Storm's End. You would have only suffered the same fate as Lucerys." It was a brutally honest thing to say, but perhaps it was what she needed to hear.

Daenys hesitated slightly, "I could have talked to my uncle. It was only the night before that he proposed to join our families in union. If I had offered him something greater than revenge..." She trailed off, looking away from his eyes.

"You're not a bartering object, Daenys. Even if you had offered your hand—you couldn't have wed in this time of war. He knows that. You'd be a prisoner under the Red Keep or dead below the depths of the sea." Cregan sternly told her.

"You asked for my hand in exchange for 4,000 fighting men. Is that not a barter?" She asked in a hushed whisper.

He stilled, shifting away slightly from her as if sobering up. His face changed between various expressions: confusion, guilt, and another she couldn't quite capture. "I am sorry for that." Cregan murmured. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel like an object, something to be coveted and traded. You are the furthest from it. I treasure you in my heart, and I always will." He took both of her hands in his, kissing her wrists in a display of apology.

"It is too late to recind our betrothal. The North does not forget. They would be furious with the Crown if I wed another. But—If you wish it, you can have your choice of lover after we are wed."

She tensed, brows furrowed together angrily. Does he not understand that is not possible for a woman? Men may do so as they please, fuck a million whores and father a hundred bastards with no consequence. She would be the one carrying the heirs to Winterfell, not him. Her mother did the very same thing, taking on a paramore for her marriage with Laenor. Rhaenyra suffered for it then, and has her claim to the throne weakened now because of it. For him to ask that of her, knowing it was impossible, was frustrating.

For him to doubt her loyalty was appalling.

"I would not." She grit out, pulling her wrists away. He was so intent on allowing her freedoms within their future marriage, without acknowleding that there was no freedom to be had in a marriage for her. An offer of peace, he intended, to soothe her fears and worries.

His words only served to complicate her feelings more. Daenys returned the sentiments he had spoken to her back on top of The Wall, some weeks ago.

Daenys forced the tense thought from her head. Cregan wasn't the target of her anger. He never was. Taking it out on him would be cruel.

She started, "I am not regretful of our engagement, Cregan." The honest truth. "I wish it had been in different circumstances, perhaps, but I..."

The hopeful look in his eyes returned, reminding Daenys of a kicked pup. "You...?" He trailed, offering her a start.

She shook her head, unable to find words to place her emotions. She never could, it seemed. Not in the way Cregan so easily could. No grand confessions of love and affection nor comfort could be provided from her. Her heart felt heavy at his downtrodded look as he nodded in acceptance.

Instead, he settled back into the sheets, allowing her space to do so too. Further apart now, the air felt tense with unspoken words and misunderstanding. Daenys wished to balm the wound she had given Cregan so cruelly, but found her throat tight and tongue unmoving.

Cregan, deep in his thoughts, could only think of the first day he had seen the dragon Princess. She had the exact look she wore now, filled with a sense of longing and loneliness.

🗡

Cregan, one and ten at the time, had been ecstatic at the offer his father gave him to visit King's Landing. As any important Lord, it was Rickon's duty to occasionally make appearances in formal events at least every few years. The last visit had been over ten years ago, when Rhaenyra Targaryen was named heir to the Iron Throne by the King Viserys.

The reason for celebration: Rhaenyra Targaryen's eldest daughter's nameday. Daenys Velayron, the young girl who had many rumors attached to her name. Some called her a dragon dreamer, like her ancestor Daenys Targaryen. Others called her mad, or a witch, telling of screams that kept the Red Keep awake for fortnites at a time. Cregan was intrigued by the girl, curious as to what or who she truly was. Perhaps she was like his father, who was able to warg into his companion falcon. Many in the Stark line could, Rickon had told him once, and perhaps more than just their line that they were unaware of. Thinking on it further, his father was never scared or in pain when he warged, so perhaps not.

Now, Rickon decided it was a fine time to head South once more to formally present his oldest son to court. And perhaps, to show the young man the true ways of the Southerners and the snake pit that was the Crownlands. Any Lord needed to know how to navigate such tidings, even if visits were few and far between.

It was months travel on the King's Road, though Cregan didn't mind. He enjoyed the ride on his horse, Red, an eighth nameday gift from his Lord father. He had heartily chuckled when Cregan told him the foal's name, commenting that if his son continued with such a simple name streak, his children might one day be called 'Boy' or 'Girl' to follow suit. Though Cregan blushed, he remained steadfast in his choice of name. To this day, Red remained a reliable steed.

Along the way, they had passed a massive stone structure with ornate pillars in the front.

Welcomed through King's Landing's gates, Cregan was in awe of the differences between the capitol and the Northern keeps. The architecture, the peoples' apparel, the accents. It was all so overwhelming for the young boy, who had never been so far from home.

The heat did not help. Cregan found himself sweating through his tunic, face shining with sweat that he was unused to dealing with besides in the training yard. Winterfell had its moments of warmth, during the peaks of summer moons, though it never got hot enough like King's Landing apparently did.

He had no clue how these citizens faired in such weather their entire lives. He wished for the coolness of a stone floor—or even a damp field of grass. Why couldn't the Princess have been born in winter? It was only spring, yet the sun shined as if it never turned from the Crownlands.

Turning to his father, Cregan asked. "Is that the Red Keep?" In a hushed tone.

Rickon laughed, shaking his head. "That is the Dragonpit. All of the Targaryens' dragons lie there now, in the depths."

Shivering at the thought, despite the warm weather, Cregan was both scared and intrigued at the thought of witnessing a real dragon.

Guided by the steady hand of his father, Cregan was led through crowds to the stairs of the onlooker stands of the arena.

They were able to sit beside many other high Lords and Ladies, none recognizable by Cregan. Rickon shared curtious greetings with a few before sitting by his son. The other side of the stands, past the dirt field that the joust would be held in, was filled with citizens of King's Landing.

Leaning forward on the edge of his seat, he glanced at the royal box. Shaded and decorated by many colorful flowers, servants rushed around before the event started to fill cups and ensure the comfort of the royal family.

He wriggled around in his seat, craning his neck to try and look past the rushing people. Was the Targaryens' hair truly silver, like people said? With eyes as purple as violets? Gasping, he caught a glimpse at a tall woman surrounded by two brown-haired boys fluttering about in front of her. The woman had shiny silver hair, like the tales said, and a flawless, smooth face like a statue.

The boys in front of her must be Jacaerys and Lucerys Velayron, her sons. The only two of the royal family to have brown hair. Rhaenyra Targaryen, he knew now. 'The Realm's Delight' she was named years ago, which Cregan thought did not do her enough justice for her great beauty.

Announcers called for the first joust to commence, great trumpets almost bursting his eardrums from how loud they were. Out, on a silver mare, rode a handsome man with tan skin and pure white hair. Glancing at the royal stand and guaging the cheers, he could attach the name Laenor Velayron to the man. Another one stood beside Rhaenyra, quietly clapping though not cheering like the boys were. Ser Laenor's competitor rode in on the opposite side, though he maid his name and House little mind.

The girl had silver hair and pale skin, an image of her mother. Daenys Velayron. The one who's nameday was being celebrated. She looked embarrassed to be standing and clapping, knowing hundreds if not thousands of eyes were right on her as she did.

The other tales must be true, too, Cregan grimaced. Bastard princes, the realm whispered when the two were born with curly locks of brown hair. Daenys, too, could hardly escape the allegations, looking too much like her mother and not anything like her father. He sympathized with their struggles, knowing how his sister Sara struggled with finding friends and allies in her own home beyond just her family.

Rickon nudged him to pay attention as the joust commenced, telling his son that it was rude to stare. He nodded eagarly, sitting up to watch the joust.

Though Ser Laenor had won, Cregan found himself bored immediately by the event. Throwing men from their horses with sticks, not the most appealing sport to a young boy who grew bored so easily. He slipped off, telling his father that he needed to relieve himself before running down the stairs.

Glancing at the royal box, he found that the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra was missing, though Rhaenyra didn't seem to have a worried expression at all, as if it were normal for the nameday girl to be missing at her own celebration. Shrugging it off, he continued on his way.

He wished to explore the Red Keep while he had the chance. From the arena, the great fabled Red Keep of King's Landing could be spotted. It was close, just a quick walk and he'd be back before his father could be suspicious.

Bumping into something, he immediately stammered out an apology to the offended person. Finding it to be a young lady, perhaps a few years his elder, he flushed in embarrassment. The girl was a picture of beauty, with tan skin and perfect curly black hair framing her brown eyes. She looked at Cregan with an annoyed but uninterested corner-eye glance, turning back to her two friends beside her.

"Oh! Are you okay, Lady Tyrell?" The red-headed one fussed, presumably her lady-in-waiting.

"I'm fine, Lyra." Lady Tyrell sighed before turning to Cregan with a spark in her eye.

He nearly flinched at the intensity, though he recovered quickly. "My apologies, my Lady. I did not mean to run into you like that." He bowed his head slightly in sincere apology. The last thing he intended was to offend a Lady.

Lady Tyrell giggled before covering her mouth quickly to cut herself off. She hummed, nodding along with a widened smile. "Pray tell, my Lord, where are you from? I've never heard such a unique accent." She said demurely, clasping her hands in front of her with her folded fan.

He glanced between them all, unaware of their shared looks. To him, she was the one with an accent. Though, not an unpleasant one. "The North, my Lady." He answered simply.

The blonde one next to the redhead giggled in turn. Whispering to the Tyrell in a not-so-hushed tone. "The Nawrth, my Lady." She repeated in her ear. Lady Tyrell quickly swatted her away, though bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a laugh.

"What's your name?" She asked, keen eyes watching like a hawk.

"Cregan Stark."

"Cruh-gun?" She awkwardly pronounced, looking to her entourage coyly. "I've never heard that. Must be a Northern name." Lady Tyrell pronounced the 'Northern' in her sentence the same way Cregan had previously, earning a sharp giggle from her friends.

He could only watch on, utterly bemused by the interaction. Did he say it wrong? Perhaps she did not hear his name right.

"So, you are a Stark, then? I've always heard they were tall. And pale. Long face, tall nose, and my, are you sick?" She asked, concern dripping in her honey-sweet tone as she leaned close to him and felt his cheeks and forehead with the back of her hand.

Confused, Cregan shook his head. "No? I feel just fine." He slightly leaned back, unused to a stranger in his space so carelessly.

Lady Tyrell tutted, shaking her head like a worn mother. "I think you are. Poor thing, all skin and bone forced to live in a desolate snowstorm like Winterfell. You must be sick, with that color missing from your skin, its all gone to your cheeks. My mother says that is what happens when one is sick." She nodded to herself, sure of her own words.

Cregan hesitated. He felt fine, of course. Perhaps Southern sickness had gotten to him in the days he had stayed in various inns. Were there different illnesses for different lands? True, he was thin and gangly now, growing much faster than other youth his age, but his father assured him that he was the same way as a boy, and he grew to fill out his frame naturally.

"I—Yes, thank you. I must be off now, my father is waiting for me." Flustered, he rushed off on his original path, hearing the unfiltered laughs fill the space behind him. Finally, he made it to the stairs of the Red Keep, surprisingly unguarded as the doors were left open so that servants could easily flit in and out of the courtyard and keep. Trays of food and caskets of wine filled busy hands that passed Cregan, none sparing him an eye as a feast was prepared for after the tourney.

Carefully, he slipped by each of them to not disturb their duties. The ceilings were hung high, Cregan having to turn his neck at an uncomfortable angle just to gawk at them. Pillars rose from floor to roof, and stone carried his feet as he walked to the throne room. The doors were wide open, and the Iron Throne stood menacing at the end of the room. His steps echoed as he strided in, though did not dare get too close. If anyone saw him, he may be accused of trying to sit the throne himself.

Cregan moved on fast, hoping that no one saw him. A long winding hall was his next curious trail, each passing window overlooking a new view. From the height of the castle, he could see crowds of people flocking below, noble and common alike. At the corner of a hall, a room opened up before the turn. Peeking his head in, he found it to be a small nooked library. Perhaps a lounge room, hence the pillows and low tables on the floor. On the windowsil, another cushion sat on a flat and long bar. The Princess, Daenys, sat atop it.

From afar, Cregan could not notice such details that Targaryens held. Now he could, with such a short distance between them. The silver hair was silky, yes, but also held a satisfying curl to it even though most of it was held in intricate braids. Pink pearls lined her braids, matching her pink dress and white lacing across the necklace and wrist cuffs. A soft blush held to her cheeks, perhaps natural or the work of rouge like his mother wore at fine occasions. Pretty, was his first thought. Normal, was his second. Daenys Velayron did not look crazy. She looked like a young girl locked away in a maddening castle. She did not whisper spells or curses towards the bystanders below, nor carry a crazed and vengeful look on her face.

As he was about to take a step forward to announce his presence, and perhaps make a friend of the girl, he stopped himself.

He paused, not taking another step further. She looked peaceful at first glance, but upon further inspection, Cregan found the look in her eyes told a different story. Deep, glossed violet eyes seemed to be longing to be part of the crowd. She hugged her knees to her chest as if she could shrink herself into the cushion. Small hands fiddled with each other, picking at any skin on the edge of her fingertips. He could spot traces of a bright red on some of her fingers, showing that she picked them raw and hardly even noticed. Similar to her posture in the royal box, where she seemed to want to disappear from view the entire time, she looked quite unlike her heiress mother. Though they shared all the right features, the younger was not the picture of confidence and regality as the elder. Many said that the heir had been a fiery and rebellious woman as a youth, only maturing and calming after her marriage to Ser Laenor. It seemed her daughter did not share such a boisterous disposition.

Daenys looked lonely, though he guessed people surrounded her all the time. King's Landing was never without eyes or ears.

Would he sound strange to her? Look sickly pale so she might think he would contaminate her with a foreign illness? Cregan thought long and hard, eventually backing away from the room and leaving the solemn princess in peace. None in the South could be his friend, only his ally.

Cregan went back to his father's side, disappointed at his own hesitance.

Years later, after nearly three years of his Lordship over Winterfell and the North, Daenys came to him in ask of fighting men. He thought her to be just as beautiful as she was upon first sight, only growing from her soft features that childhood gave her into sharper and more refined graces.

The look in her eyes stayed the same, too. Lonely and longing, though her own hesitation held her back from her wants.

He became determined not to back away this time.

🗡

Neither slept for the remainder of the night, only laid in a distant silence until the sun rose. Together, they dressed again. Routine had become their grounding, something to look forward to at the beginnings and endings of every day. When Cregan moved to fix his hair half-up as he usually did, Daenys stopped him. Guiding him to her vanity chair, Daenys started to gather strands of brown hair in her hands.

Confused, Cregan looked to his bethrothed but did not argue. The feeling of her hands carding through his hair left shivers down his spine. No one had done his hair for him—ever. Though he spent many hours with Sara's hair, trying whatever styles she wished, Sara had assumed he would hate styles in his own and consequently never offered.

Daenys braided his usually simple strands of hair back, tying them together with the black tie that blended to his hair well. When he was about to stand, she reached over his shoulder to grab the little grey pearl. Carefully, she used the loose ends of the braids to wrap around the pearl snug into the center of his hair.

"Cregan," she spoke up, wringing her hands nervously. Her cresent nails dug into her palms and wrist back and forth, alternating to keep her mind busy with the stimulation.

He craned his neck back, reaching to grab her hand and squeeze assuringly after he was sure she was finished. He waited for her to start, knowing not to interrupt her thoughts.

Cregan stood from the stool, comically small next to him, to properly face Daenys. He cradled her face in his ungloved hands, the warmth and roughness a familiar contrast to her skin. "I know." Was all he said, eyes warm and understanding.

"I'm not good with words. You know this." She glanced at his eyes through the mirror before moving her gaze back to their joined hands. "I don't know if I'll ever be, not like you are. But...I want you to know I have no regrets with anything concerning you."

It was no direct confession. No romantic display of true feelings like Cregan had done for her. Perhaps she could, one day, but not now. Not when death was looming at the steps of their door, waiting for them to take one clumsy step and fall into its arms.

When they had gotten ready, packing their things up, Cregan and Daenys went to the entrance of Harrenhall. There, Simon had been informed of their plans and met them to bid farewell.

Daenys bowed her head slightly, taking Ser Simon in a brief hug. "Thank you, Ser, for your kind accommodations. I know we haven't been the most discreet guests, but we are most appreciative."

The older man smiled, though not the placating and tense one he always wore around Daemon. This one was genuine and understanding as he nodded and waved the young girl off. "It was no trouble. There are worse guests to host here." They shared an amused smile, and Cregan and Daenys were off to Morningstar.

The young dragoness was lying in a field of damp grass when they came out, Daenys attaching their bags to her saddle bag once more. "Just a short flight, girl. I'll get you to the dragon keepers." She swore, petting the dragon's snout and earning a chuff in return.

Cregan settled behind her, slightly less tense than he was for his first flight. Still, he clutched her abdomen tight, ever cautious and expecting the worst.

Morningstar took off swiftly, swaying slightly as she found steady flow to her flight. The wound didn't seem to falter her much, Daenys noted gratefully.

It was a quick flight, only filled with anticipation in different manners from Daenys and Cregan.

Daenys, both excited to see her family and scared to see their reactions to Rhaenys' untimely death, was gripping the handlebars with whitened knuckles. Cregan was thinking of the Black Council and how he could fit himself into their already established motions. He wondered if the Queen would accept him, as young as he was compared to the rest of her advisors. His mind strayed to Dusk and his marching men, reminding himself to check in on their progress when he was alone.

When approaching the island, Cregan's brow furrowed. "I knew Dragonstone was a large castle, but it is much more daunting than I imagined. A...heavy presence to be sure."

Daenys nodded. "It is the home of the first Targaryens to grace Westeros. Many have lived and died here, and a certain presence of the people who lost themselves to fate has not left it's halls. Quite eerie, I prefer to spend my time on the beaches or in the dragonpit."

The dragonkeeper standing at the archway gaped at the sight. "Princess!" He shouted, bowing to the young princess. "We did not expect your arrival. The Queen is currently readying to hold council."

The landing was swift, if not slightly rough from Morningstar having to fold her wings to fit through the cave's mouth. Cregan seemed tense from the confinement, scanning the cave intently. The dragon landed at the perch, allowing the two riders to slip off without trouble from the cave's depth. Around them, rumbles could be heard from dragons waking at the sound of kin coming in. Vermithor, perhaps, or Syrax. Silverwing spent most of her time sleeping, having nothing to do but guard her clutch close to her. Daenys had been eager for the eggs to hatch, for Morningstar to have more young dragons to play with. The elders were busy slumbering most of the time, choosing to not be active anymore with no riders.

Tyraxes, Vermax, Arrax, and Moondancer were her main company. Now, perhaps it was only the three left to roughhouse with her in the skies as she liked. Though Syrax was closest to her size compared to her brothers' small dragons, the golden beast did not 'play' outside like they did, enjoying her nest with Caraxes. The white dragon would not have any dragons her size for a long while, with Vermax and Moondancer growing at a much slower pace than she was.

"Please take care of Morningstar for me. She has been wounded."

"Wounded, my Princess?" He asked, a heavy frown dragging his old face down.

Narrowing her eyes, she thought for a long moment. No ravens were sent informing Rhaenyra or anyone else at Dragonstone of Daenys' surpirse visit to Rook's Rest. Lord Staunton's keep was still under the Green's control, heavily guarded and watched. All they knew was that Rhaenys and Meleys were not coming back—dead.

"Claw marks, on her shoulder." She stated vaguely.

She passed the silent dragonkeeper on her way into the castle. He could only watch on as the mysterious man accompanying her followed suit close behind her heels, like a protective guard dog. The Princess had never taken a passenger on Morningstar before, save for her younger brothers, so the sight was jarring to the man who witnessed most of the girl's youthful years.

Daenys, in only a simpler Lady's gown, dained to dress herself properly in her own clothes before presenting herself to court. Cregan waited patiently outside her chambers as Franny attended to her Princess. While waiting, he uneasily scoped out the parts of the castle he could see. Though it was daytime, the halls still seemed dim and droll, echoing every step Cregan took on the way to her chambers.

A door a few yards down the hall creeked open, a deep sigh escaping the man exiting it. Taking a few steps, Cregan was swiftly noticed. The dark, curly hair revealed himself as Prince Jacaerys, if Cregan's memory served him well. He bowed politely, "My Prince."

Keen brown eyes narrowed in a way that contrasted Daenys' greatly. He was made of the sharp, polished features befitting of a Prince, though only lacked the Valyrion traits most people in his family shared. "Lord Stark." He spoke, a graveling and almost spiteful spit.

"What are you doing outside my sister's chambers?" He asked, resting his wrist upon his sword's pommel and standing up straight, sizing the man in front of him up.

Cregan was unmoving, though felt slightly scandalized by the unspoken allegations. "I am waiting for Daenys to finish getting ready." He answered, careful not to shift Ice at his shoulder to draw attention to the longsword. He was not to be made a threat in the Prince's own castle.

The Prince in front of him seethed, "Daenys? Is it common for Northerners to call a Princess by her given name? I was unaware of such...traditions."

"Of course not, my Prince. I apologize—" As he was attempting to balm the miscommunication, Daenys popped her head out from the chamber door. "Jace!" She said, rushing to hug her brother. Now, in more suited clothes, Daenys wore a deep crimson dress with embroidered golden laces on the corset and sleeves. Black dragons wrapped around her waist, a detail she must have done herself in passing time. Her sleeves reached down to taper at the wrist, covering the bite mark. Though her hair was tied back in a bundle of romantic tuck braids, leaving the scar on her neck for all eyes to see if they looked close enough. Cregan thought the powerful colors suited her, though the soft pastels of Harrenhall's dresses had given her a youthful and soft appearance that he admired too.

Though Jace easily accepted the hug, he glared daggers at Cregan still, only placeted when Daenys tore herself from him and guided him closer by the arm to her bethrothed. "Jace, this is Cregan." She introduced, squeezing his bicep when Jacaerys did not speak at first.

He sent a look to his elder sister, pursing his lips before nodding. "It is a pleasure to meet the Lord of Winterfell."

"And it is an honor to meet the Prince of Dragonstone." Cregan said, matching his tone cooly.

Daenys smiled, looking between the Prince and Lord. "Let's go to the council room. I'm sure they are impaitient to start." She said, urging Jacaerys on with still-interlocked arms. Passing Cregan, who fell in step with her, Daenys glanced up at her bethrothed with annoyed eyes, nonverbally apologizing for her younger brother's brashness. He stifled a smile, looking forward to center himself for the meeting.

Entering the room, Jacaerys and Daenys were formally announced. They matched a refned grace in their powerful strides down the steps and towards the glowing table, which Cregan took interest in. It was a mirror of the Targaryen legacy, painted in 'Fire and Blood' just as their namesake called for.

Daenys stepped slightly forward, clasping her hands together. "Your Grace." She first acknowledged, nodding to her mother. "This is Lord Cregan Stark, here to stand place as your Master of War in Ser Broome's place."

Lord Staunton's seat was empty, too, right next to the head of the table. The loss seemed heavy on the council's shoulders. The older men who knew the Lord well were saddened by his cruel death at the hands of the Greens. The Lord was one of the wiser amongst the members, and the Blacks had taken a heavy loss with his demise and Rook Rest's new occupation.

"You are welcomed to Dragonstone, my Lord, and to my council. I trust my daughter's opinions, and in lieu of that, I extend my trust in you. We are to be family soon, more than merely allies in a time of war or peace. I hope that the union of our two Houses can prove to be fruitful for all of us." She gestured towards the seat at the end of the side of the Painted table, only one space between where Rhaenys had sat only yesterday morning.

Daenys took an end table seat next to Jacaerys, and the freshly joined Baela, parallel to her mother. "He is still making progress with the liege House. Oscar Tully is still waiting for his grandsire's move to choose a standing. He expressed his wishes to join us but cannot act without being officially Lord Tully.

Rhaenyra swiftly moved on, discreetly nodding to her daughter to welcome her back, too. Though warmer greetings could be shared later in privacy. "I received a raven from Ser Simon Strong of your residence at Harrenhall, though still have received nothing from the King Consort. What is the progress of the Riverlands?" She asked, brushing her black dress down to take a seat.

The Blackwoods have sworn to us. Though, after the battle at Burning Mill, tensions are high between the Riverland houses. Those who have chosen their fealties are already eager to fight amongst each other before orders come from Your Grace." She finished, leaving out any unimportant details. Daemon's frustrating lack of communication was his own fault, not hers.

Rhaenyra nodded, taking in the information appreciatively before moving to question another. "What of Rook Rest's state?"

Lord Celtigar spoke up, "Lord Staunton has been executed in his home, leaving his daughter Lady Kalla to take his place, though she is held prisoner and at the mercy of the soilders watching over the castle. Duskendale, too, has been taken by Criston Cole. We still have no ground army but the one Daemon is in the midst of raising."

Cregan spoke up, "I have 4,000 men strong marching down as we speak. They will have neared the Twins by now, it is only a matter of time until they are in the South and ready to be stationed at the Queen's command."

"I am sure the Blackwoods will be sending a strong force to support your cause." Daenys said quickly after. "And, if we are lucky, the Tullys will decide soon enough that their rightful queen is to be supported. With the Tully's support, the whole of the Riverlands will shift to our side, surrounding the Crownlands and the Reach once the Northmen join them."

Rhaenyra nodded to Cregan and Daenys, grateful for the information. "I cannot afford to simply wait around for Lord Glover Tully to either choose a side or for the young heir to take his place. Send to Maidenpool and Crackclaw point. Let them man their garrisons and give them stores or weapons if they find them wanting."

"We must answer Rook's Rest, my Queen."

"They are lost already. But, Vhagar is depleted after such a hard fought battle between her and The Red Queen." Lord Celtigar spoke up, interrupting the knight in front of him.

"We will hear of Vhagar's state soon. Her return to King's Landing was said to be a clumsy one. I would wager that Rhaenys landed a few solid blows to the old beast."

Daenys looked between Cregan and Rhaenyra, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve as the men continued to interrupt and speak over each other. Cregan met her eyes, nodding encouragingly as he grasped her hand under the table.

"Vhagar and Sunfyre are injured." Daenys spoke up.

The council stilled, earning sharp and confused looks from different people. Rhaenyra, growing to a realization, asked. "Injured? How do you know of this?"

Jace looked to her, too, a concerned look gracing his face.

"Morningstar was able to bite off a good chunk of her tail, in the midst of battle. Though Meleys fell, Vhagar will be taking time to recover at King's Landing. Sunfyre, too, will not be defending anything with his injuries—his wings are burnt and torn. I doubt he will be able to fly again, if he and Aegon survived the fall and his injuries."

Silence met her words. The Lords and knights exchanced bemused glances, wondering how they were so unaware that the Princess had joined the fight. Jace was pale, though silent, too.

Rhaenyra spoke first. "You went to Rook's Rest. Alone—with two dragons." She rubbed her forehead, seemingly having aged ten years from the news her daughter gave her.

Sheepishly, Daenys nodded. "I..." She glanced around, aware of the outsiders listening carefully. "I heard news of Sunfyre and Vhagar on their way to Rook's Rest. I knew something was amiss, so I followed in hopes that they were not going directly to Dragonstone for an ambush."

Rhaenyra nodded, understanding her underlying meaning. "And Aegon joined this battle? How was his state?"

"I am unaware of it, I saw him and Sunfyre hit by Vhagar's flames and go down, but I don't know their status otherwise."

"Aemond struck down his own brother?" Ser Steffon asked, horrified by the Green's apparent infighting.

"I can go again." Daenys offered, glancing at her brother and cousin. "Perhaps with Vermax or Moondancer. We can easily take back Duskendale and Maidenpool with three dragons against a small force of men."

Rhaenyra thought for a moment, considering the proposal. She turned to Lord Celtigar next to her. "These two keeps are absolutely needed for our fleets, correct?"

The Lord nodded quickly. "If they have a standpoint so close to our waters, our ships could be burned down easily."

The Queen pursed her lips, solemnly conceding. "Very well. Moondancer will be sent to Duskendale, which is reported to have the least amount of men stationed to protect it. Vermax and Morningstar will go to Rook's Rest."

The three across from her glowed with acknowledgement, firmly nodded at the command.

"However—" She paused, lifting a hand.

"If there is a dragon still stationed at Rook's Rest, you will turn around."

Jacaerys and Daenys agreed, and the council was formally dismissed. Cregan squeezed Daenys' hand once again before standing, glancing at the Queen. "I will meet you by your chambers." He was beckoned out by Franny, who flitted to quickly show him his prepared guest chambers.

Daenys was left with only Jacaerys and Rhaenyra. They all stood to circle, exchanging tender hugs of greeting. When Rhaenyra pulled away and pushed a strand from her daughter's face, her dark eyes shot to her neck. "What is this?" She gasped, tracing the scar with a ghostly touch. Jace leaned in to see the fuss, glaring down at his sister for a proper answer to the new wound.

🗡

"It is old by now." Daenys sheepishly brushed her mother's hand away, attempting to quell their worries.

"Old? You did not have that before you went to fetch Lord Stark." Jacaerys said.

"I did." She stated firmly. "I got it on my trip to the Wall—"

Jace threw his hands up in frustration, pacing around a few feet from his mother and sister. "I told you, mother! Lord Stark can not possibly keep her safe in a place like the North. He took you to the Wall, alone?"

Daenys, as if realizing only now that her travels alone with Cregan were not a proper way of doing things—especially considering their stations—flushed. "He did protect me. This is simply a consequence of my own misjudgement. Which, I might add, I handled."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, stepped back from Daenys. "It is too late to recind a bethrothal anyway. Daenys has stated her content with it, so I must trust that she is being truthful. You as well, Jace." She reminded her ornery son sharply.

"Now, about Rook's Rest..." Rhaenyra turned her intimidating ire to Daenys.

Jace shrugged when she glanced over her mother's shoulder in a desperate plea for help. There's no getting out of this.

Daenys sighed softly, avoiding her mother's intense gaze. "I saw Criston Cole's army marching in the cover of a forest. From Ser Simon's tellings, it was Rook's Rest they were approaching. They led scorpions and arches, I knew it was an ambush meant for a dragon. In a place so close to Dragonstone—I feared it might have been one of you they were intending on meeting." She said, eyes glossy from the memory of her grandmother.

Rhaenyra nodded sympathetically. "I am not happy with you running into battle with Vhagar like that, but I am sorry that you were alone when Rhaenys fell. Did she...?"

Daenys nodded solemnly. "Morningstar almost saved her, but she refused my hand when the time came. She knew her fate, I suppose." Though she wished to have her wise and sturdy grandmother still at her side, her one comfort was the acceptance on Rhaenys' face when she last saw it. "Aemond did not give chase, even when he had the opportunity to."

Rhaenyra nodded thoughtfully. "Even if he did, Morningstar could easily outfly him."

She shook her head, ashamed of her actions. She had only survived out of luck and not skill. "If he did, I would have put every resident in Harrenhall in danger—Cregan, Ser Strong, Alys. All the servants, too." She wrung her hands, letting a shaky breath fall from her lips. If Aemond wanted, he could've burned Harrenhall completely down with no issue.

"It didn't, sweet girl. That is what matters. You are alive, safe again at home." Her mother soothed, squeezing her hand. Behind, Jace nodded his agreement.

Rhaenyra faced him, gesturing for him to stand by Daenys, which he did smoothly. Together, the pair looked alike only in skin tone and clothes, though any could tell that they were siblings. Rhaenyra looked over them with clouded eyes, knowing that a third and fourth were missing from the picture. Little Joff, sent away to ward with strangers. Young Luke, taken by the salt and sea. They were only half of what they once were, though stood tall despite the absence weighing on their minds.

"When you go to Rook's Rest, I want you to do no more than I have asked. The sight of two dragons alone should be enough to send the men running, and even if it is not, they will be easily defeated. The matter of Lady Kalla and her younger brother, Kallus will be more difficult, I presume. They will be guarding inside, where your dragons cannot follow."

"We will simply drag them out." Jace said, determined as ever for the cause.

Rhaenyra eyed him, grateful for the eagerness yet worried for she knew his recklessness grew every day. "You have not fought real battle like these men have, Jace."

He scoffed, "what have they fought, a few battles along the Crownlands from House to House, outnumbering the Lords in their own homes? I reckon most have their swords unbloodied still."

He had a point. A time of peace had been carried since before Viserys' time. Most swords were unused beyond petty fighting between Houses, tourneys, and duels. Daenys had to wonder if the only ones in Westeros left with real experience were those up North guarding the South from Wildlings.

"We will take care of it when the moment arises, mother. We have no way of knowing until we get there." Daenys said calmly, looking between her mother and brother.

The Queen sighed and agreed. "I am putting my faith in you three to get the coast back from the Greens. I have no doubt that you will succeed, but promise me you will be safe."

Daenys and Jacaerys tensed at the words. The very same ones she had spoken to them and Luke before Lucerys had died. They all stayed true to their oath, indeed, but at the cost of Luke's life. They nodded together, no book to swear upon but their own hearts.

"We will."

🗡

Cregan had used the time in his guest chambers to warg into Dusk again. There, in his direwolf's body and mind, he had discovered the location and status of his bannermen. The greybeards were not far from The Twins, as he had expected, while the younger soldiers were only a few days behind and approaching steadily.

With his mind eased, Cregan allowed his bannermen to lead themselves once more. He grew antsy with all the sitting around he was confined to, though dared not complain. There was nothing he could do until his men made it deep into the Riverlands.

Outside of Daenys' chambers, Cregan found her waiting. "Apologies, Princess, I found myself held up."

Amused, she smiled and accepted the apology with ease. "I will leave with Jace and Baela soon. Hopefully, I will be back before the morrow."

Cregan felt his chest tighten at the words, though he already knew of her assignment. At the Painted Table he was unable to express his concern for her, but he knew it had to be done. Jacaerys would accompany her, which brought him comfort. He was unaware of the princeling's sword skills, but knew he had no experience besides training.

"Is there no way I could accompany you?" He asked, bringing her hands to his own and squeezing slightly.

Daenys squinted slightly, pondering his ask. "Perhaps...I could use you for ensuring Lady Kalla and her brother come out safely from the guards' watch. I don't know how they will respond to us at the gates, and we do not have time to starve them out."

He gave her control of the decision. "Whatever you choose, I will stand by it." He swore.

To clarify, he meant for her to be allowed to take a mistress/lover if she took moon tea or whatever so there wasn't bastards in their name yk

simon def thinks Daenys is his grandniece I can't lie

About Winterfell-I imagine it NOTHING like GOT shows it to be. It is unbelievably tiny in the show, with silly round roofs, short and thin walls, and a tiny Godswood. In the books' depictions, the walls are super thick and 80 feet high, the Godswood is acres long alone and so is the city, and the roofs are pointed to actually let snow slide off. Winter Town is just outside the walls, making it a more lively place than we see. In the show it always shows Winterfell being completely isolated in the middle of nowhere, which would be super inconvenient for its people.

was it casual when you were the first person to do my hair?

Had the Rook's Rest scene planned for a few chapters for I know the plot for it just haven't written it yet. Though, I don't know if I should bring Cregan or not. On one hand, he would sit useless at Dragonstone. On another, he might steal the spotlight from Daenys slightly if he did come. What do y'all think? The main plot of it wouldn't change anyway hehe

sorry for delay again, I CANNOT catch a break these past weeks. 🥹 action next chap finally, wanted to get this out.

#dragondreamer #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark #hotd #hotd season 2 #cregan fanfiction #cregan

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vampyrevogue · 4 months ago

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- anon

i saw your introduction and that you were happy to take requests/asks and i know you did preface that you weren't used to writing smut and that's a–okay i just have an idea which is stuck in my head about Aemond Targaryen

fem!reader (not !niece/cousin/aunt/sister dynamic) giving Aemond a handjob, can be set in his quarters or the council table and she's spreading his legs, parting his knees and thighs, palming him from outside his clothes, thumbing his tip, tracing the vein under, and squeezing the base when he's about to come! maybe some overstim and edging? and he's not a full sub? like he's allowing reader to be 'on top'/domming him but he can switch it around with a snap of his fingers x also him digging his fingers into the arm–rest/bed sheets (depending on what setting you choose!) and he's letting out short gasps and choked grunts, panting here and there, breathing heavily through his nose etc...

sorry for the long request, i just prefer adding detail so writers, like you, know exactly what to write because i understand how annoying writers block is, also please don't be pressured to do my request – if you don't like it and don't wish to write it that's 100% valid x

Thank you for your request anon!! I hope this is to your liking. it’s a bit short and not particularly good but yeah as I said I'm not entirely used to writing smut lol.

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞, 𝖁.𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓

𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Betrothed! Reader

warnings: Smut, porn no plot, Handjobs, not proofread.

The days at the red keep were oft gloomy now, the war looming over everyone's head. It had seemingly taken quite the toll on your betrothed, the prince regent Aemond Targaryen, the stress in his eye was evident every time you saw him.

In the past few days, you had seen him very little, a rough comparison of the time you often spent together in the libraries of the red keep. Perhaps that prompted you to visit his chambers this evening, though you surely would not admit that you had missed his presence.

It was late when you snuck into his chambers, dressed in only your nightgown. The fireplace was lit and your eyes found him sitting in an armchair near it. you could sense the stress in the air and wishing to help you made your way over to him, sitting down between his legs.

“My prince, I did not mean to disturb you, tis only that I have missed your presence as of late” you speak with a gentle tone.

He does not respond only humming at your words, his eyes scan over your form for a brief moment.

“I have noticed you are stressed, perhaps I could help,” you say

“And how might you be able to help me?” he questions with a cold and low voice. You tense up at the way he speaks.

“If I may speak plainly, my prince, I could pleasure you..with my hand perhaps,” you say, your voice becoming quiet. you had read of this act earlier in the day, knowing well it would be highly improper of you to give him your maidenhead before you are wed. His eye widens with both surprise and lust as you speak, he contemplates your offer for a moment before nodding.

“I’ll allow it,” he says, his tone still cold. He spreads his legs slightly as your hand moves upward, beginning to palm him through his breeches. His mouth falls open slightly a small moan coming from his lips.

His cock is quick to harden as you reach to unlace his breeches, pulling them down to reveal his leaking length. You wrap your hand around his cock with a firm grip, gently swiping your thumb over the slit in his tip a few times spreading the precum around his length. Your free hand moves to spread his legs further apart as moans and curses fall from his lips, you gently squeeze his length your thumb tracing over the veins that travel along his cock.

“Fuck…” he groans, he leans his head back letting soft moans fall from his lips. his fingers dig into the leather of the armchair and his back arches ever so slightly. you hear his breath become heavier as you fasten the pace at which you stroke his cock. feeling his cock throb heavier than before you pull your hand away for a moment watching his eyebrows furrow, you then return your hand to his length stroking him eagerly as the moans and grunts begin to fall from his lips again.

after a few minutes you begin to feel him throb in your hand, a signal that he is about to cum, you continue with your current pace swiping your thumb over his tip every few seconds. he lets out a broken grunt as ropes of cum shoot from his tip into your palm.

it takes him a few minutes to come down from his high, tucking himself back into his breeches. he smiles at you for a moment.

“I am thankful to you for this, my lady,” he says, his previous cold tone no longer present.

You smile at his statement, “I’m glad to be of service, your grace, I shall make my way back to my chambers now” you say, raising to your feet and giving him a small nod before you turn to leave.

you are surely thankful that your wedding day is fast approaching you think to yourself as you walk through the hallway of the red keep.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #not proofread #anon ask #hotd season 2

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beautifulmadnesss · 1 year ago

Text

"Maybe I'm Better Off Dead" Part 2 Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Visenya is married to Aemond, who tries to keep her safe, but she is still a prisoner in a war just beginning.

Part 1

When I woke up, the sun was shining in brightly from the windows, which were now covered with bars. The bars were only a few inches apart, so there was no chance of slipping through the gaps.

"Are you hungry?" I turned to see Aemond sitting on the sofa where he slept last night.

"No." I replied, shifting in the bed slightly so I was sitting.

"It's not poisoned." He said, taking a bite of the bread on the tray in front of him. When I didn't respond, he took a bite of the porridge as well.

"Not all poison is immediate. You could just be waiting for an antidote while I suffer a slow death." I challenged.

He sighed, "very well. My mother brought some dresses for you if you wish to change while we wait."

"So you can take the antidote while I'm changing behind the screen?"

"You're quite impossible." He remarked. "Though, I never said you had to go behind the screen." He added with a smirk.

"It's not as if you need to ask anything of me."

His face hardened immediately, "I told you, I will never touch you without your permission."

"Aegon will not allow that. He will expect you to take my maidenhood."

"I already have a plan for that." He replied. I raised an eyebrow at him after he didn't elaborate. "Has your mother explained to you what happens?"

My cheeks flamed and all I could do was shake my head softly.

We were both spared the embarrassment of further conversation by the announcement of his mother at the door.

"You may enter." He said and moments later the doors opened to reveal the Queen Mother in a long velvet green dress.

"Aemond, your brother would like to discuss some things with you before the ceremony." He bowed to his mother before flashing a quick glance at me and leaving myself alone with Alicent. "Shall I help you dress for your wedding?" Her tone was not one of questioning, so I simply stood and followed her over to the pile of green dresses. "You needn't be afraid. Aemond has always been my gentle and kind boy." She said while selecting the most ornate of the dresses. One embroidered with countless tiny flowers and golden beads.

"He murdered my brother." I replied once again.

"The same brother who maimed him?" She challenged.

"We were children. Luke never meant to-" I paused realizing I had said exactly what she wanted.

"Just as Aemond never meant to kill Lucerys." She continued to speak as she helped me into the heavy dress. "Your grandsire was always terrified that his own family would go to war against each other. I think he was right and I'm sure your mother prepared you for that. You have the opportunity to prevent that by marrying Aemond and keeping peace. I know you don't want to and I know you're scared, just as I was, but I promise, no harm will come to you. You can still live a happy life with children you adore."

"You used to be my mother's closest friend." I said through teary eyes as she lead me over to a seat and began running a brush through the tangles in my hair.

"I did and I wish we would not have grown so far apart. Women follow the lead of men. I chose to follow Viserys and do my duty to my country. Your mother chose to follow her desires with your father rather than her husband."

"My mother chose to be happy, to find love and to allow Leanor to do the same. I understand that it was wrong, but it never had to become this. You could've chosen to be happy too." I caught her eye in the small mirror.

"You are a clever girl, but you are still young. You cannot break tradition that has lasted thousands of years. Thousands of men, women, and children will die in this war because your mother decided that her heart was more important than their lives. You can chose to follow the same fate or you can chose to find happiness in the life you have been given." She carefully pushed the last pin just a little too far and I felt it scrap my scalp. A threat that did not go unnoticed. She always hated me and that would not change as I married her son.

My stomach twisted into knots and my heart felt like it would explode out of my chest, but I forced my emotions down and held my head high. I would not cry in a room full of my enemies. The Usurper held my hand on his arm as he led me toward the man who murdered my brother. The blood pounded in my ears as we were married. I couldn't hear anything the Septon was saying. I wanted to scream and run, but I knew I would never be allowed to leave. I considered killing Aegon and ending this war, but I knew Ser Criston Cole, the man my mother had given a job to, would cut me down before I came within inches of victory. Aemond studied my face carefully as our hands were bound together. His eyes seemed to hold concern and pity. As much as I wanted to close myself off to him, I knew Alicent was right, if I did my duty, then perhaps the rest of my family could survive this. I couldn't let anyone else die. Aemond was gentle as he placed a hand on my cheek and slowly leaned forward to kiss me. My first. It seemed to last an eternity as he held our lips together before pulling away and taking my hand in his as we walked through the crowd of people out the front doors.

Once the doors shut behind us, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry." I looked up at him in confusion, he was my husband now, he could do as he pleased, why would he apologize for kissing me?

"Let us go feast and celebrate the end to this fighting!" Aegon announced as he marched through the doors. He seemed to be the only one under the impression this would end the fighting, but as the King, no one challenged him.

Aemond stayed by my side for the rest of the evening, though apart from dancing, he never touched me. I started to become slightly comforted by his presence as many men who would be generals in the war to come approached me with thinly veiled threats of what was to become of my family. I was comforted until Aegon proudly proclaimed that it was time the bedding ceremony.

"My King, as we discussed, I would like the privilege of bedding my wife in privacy, if it pleases you." Aemond replied.

"Ah, yes, of course. My brother wishes to conquer alone. Very well." He waved us off and as we walked closer to his, or I supposed as it was now, our chambers I began to feel more and more afraid. The moment I stepped inside the room and the doors closed, I completely froze and the tears I tried so hard to force back came tumbling down my cheeks.

I could see Aemond out of the corner of my eye begin to strip off his clothes and tossed them next to the bed. I turned away before he took off everything.

"Once you change into your night clothes you hand me your dress." I didn't respond, but simply took off my dress and handed it to him, sneaking a quick glance only to find that he was also wearing his night clothes. He took the dress and tugged hard, tearing the fabric around the neck of the dress and tossed it on top of his clothes. I still hadn't moved from the spot I was glued to. "Visenya." I snapped my head up to meet his gaze. "I truly meant it. I'm sorry for today and I will not tonight, nor ever, force you to lay with me."

He walked over to the couch without another word and laid down. I was unable to completely relax, but I made my way over to the bed and settled into the sheets. Perhaps, he was right, maybe I wouldn't be harmed here.

I woke up to someone gently shaking my shoulder and immediately shot up, slamming into someone. He grunted softly, but still was the one to apologize. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's okay."

"Aegon will be here soon, so you get dressed, while I take care of this." I noticed he was bleeding from a small cut on his torso. He noted my confusion. "When a maiden lays with a man for the first time, she bleeds. Aegon will expect to see that we consummated our marriage."

"Oh."

"It's alright. Toss your night dress over when you change, I'll need that too." He was quiet and also clearly uncomfortable. I nodded and climbed out of bed to go put on one of the green dresses from Alicent, tossing my night dress over as he asked.

I came out and saw that he was now dressed as well, but our clothes from last night and this morning were in a messy pile next to the bed. The sheets were all tangled together and I saw the blood on them.

"Thank you." I said softly, chancing a glance at him. He looked as though he was going to say something else before the doors burst open and the King entered.

"I trust you enjoyed your evening, brother." He said, coming in and walking toward the bed. His lips spread into a wide grin as he took in the scene before him. It turned to a smirk as his eyes found me. "and you, Princess. Did you enjoy yourself?" I wanted to remain brave, but something in his eyes caused me to shrink back, almost instantly bumping into Aemond, though I didn't remember seeing him move toward me.

"Can I help you with anything else, my King?" He said from behind me.

"Yes, I would like for you to fly to Storms End and inform Lord Baratheon that I require the presence of him and his men here to begin preparing for battle. Lord Hightower expects the bitch to attempt to rescue her little girl." He directed the last part at me.

"I did not expect to leave my wife so soon."

"When you return you will have plenty of time to make little lords and ladies. It will be a quick trip." His request was given as a King and therefore not one to be refused, so Aemond left. "I shall have your meals brought here until your husband returns tomorrow." Aegon added to me before he left the room.

It was a relief to finally be left alone and not feel constantly on guard, though as much as I was unsure at the beginning I was starting to feel even a little safe with Aemond. Perhaps he truly didn't mean to kill Luke and maybe he did regret it. I spent the day reading books that were left in the room, though I was not truly absorbing the words I consumed, it helped to pass the time until the evening.

The sheets were changed when the servants brought dinner, so they were clean as I settled into bed. I missed my family, but I now had some hope that I would see them one day.

Once again I awoke to the touch of someone and for a moment I thought it was Aemond until I remembered he was gone. I tried to sit up, but quickly realized I was pinned down. I screamed when I realized it was Aegon.

"Perhaps we will make some bastards of our own." He sneered as he roughly kissed down my neck and forced my dress up. I kept screaming and violently thrashed, trying everything in my power to get free, but it was no use. He was the King and as such, no one would be coming to my aid. The more I fought back, the harder he hit me until eventually I couldn't fight back anymore, all I could do was cry.

The next day no one came to bring me food or change the sheets. There was no bath and no new clothes. I didn't move, because everything hurt and I realized how stupid I had been to think I was ever safe here. Sleep came in short periods if terrible nightmares and the waking world was no different. I was terrified he would return, so when the doors opened again, I scrambled off the bed and shoved myself into the corner, ignoring the ripples of pain throughout my body.

I heard him inhale sharply before calling out my name, but I didn't move or make a single sound until he came around the side of the bed and saw me.

"Stay away from me." I croaked my throat raw.

"Who did this to you?" He growled.

"You know. That's why you left, so he could have his turn. You lied to me and tricked me so I would think I was safe, so I would trust you."

"I didn't I swear." He stopped "Did Aegon do this to you?"

I didn't bother to respond.

"I'm going to help you escape. Stay here. If you want to change clothes, you can. I'm going to figure out how to free your dragon and then tonight I'm getting you out of here." His voice held an uncharacteristic edge, but I wasn't naive enough to believe him again.

The only thing I did was take one of the new dresses and change out of the clothes I was wearing before sitting on the sofa. This time, I didn't get a book, I simply stared at the window, watching as night fell. When Aemond returned he didn't let the doors close behind him, but instead waited in the doorway and asked if I wanted to go for a stroll. The guards on either side of the doors reminded me that I did not have a choice, so I stood and made my way over to him. We walked in silence for a while before we rounded a corned and he pulled me into a secret passage.

"I know you have no reason to believe me anymore, but I had no idea. I am so sorry for what my family has done to you, for what I have done to you." He pulled a cloak over himself and handed one to me. "Some of the dragon pit handlers are loyal to your mother and when I told them what Aegon had done, they agreed to help you escape. It's this way." He held up a lamp and I followed behind him as we made our way through the passage before finally coming up just outside of the Dragonpit where my beautiful dragon was already waiting. "Go quickly." He said while looking around for other people.

"He's going to kill you when he finds out what you did." I said, causing him to turn to me.

"I know, but I'm going to do my best to stop this war from happening."

"Thank you, Aemond." I truly meant it. For the things he had done, I should hate him, but I could see that he hated himself just as much as I did. He was trying to be different and risking his own life to save mine.

"I am truly sorry." I wanted to hug him, but I was also still so scared, so I just gave him a smile before mounting my dragon and taking off. Aemond had given me enough of a head start that I knew I could make it home, but I still kept going as fast as we could until I landed in the courtyard at Dragonstone.

I must've looked as bad as I felt because the guards rushed me inside and several took off to wake my mother and Uncle, though it was Jace who found me first. As soon as I saw him, I collapsed into sobs. He held me gently as I cried.

"Visenya!" My mothers voice broke halfway through my name and I turned to see her sprinting towards me with my Uncle just behind her.

"I left him. I'm so sorry. I-" My words were incoherent, but she shushed me and pulled me into her arms.

"Oh my sweet girl, it isn't your fault. You're home now. You're safe." I was so exhausted after hugging each member of my family and after some time, my mother sent them off until only Daemon, Jace, Rhaenys, and Corlys remained.

"I know you're tired and hungry, but we have to ask you what happened. Can you tell us?" Daemon asked as I sat next to my mother who hadn't let go of me the entire time.

I nodded and told them everything starting from Luke's death at Storms End, all the way through Aemond helping me escape.

My mother wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I told her what Aegon had done. Jace's face hardened with anger, but Daemon only made on small movement as his hand reached for the hilt of Dark Sister.

"We will speak soon of what we will do, for now, you get some rest." Daemon said, only the slightest edge to his voice.

Corlys and Rhaenys left first. Daemon hugged me and then Jace, each one reminding me how happy they were to have me home. Then, my mother and I left, making our way to my room where a feast was already waiting. She helped me bathe and dress in my own clothes. As I ate, she brushed my hair, softly running a hand over it each time.

"I think Aemond truly was sorry. While I was there he protected me. Thats why Aegon sent him away, I think he knew, Aemond never would've let him hurt me." I said to her.

She sighed, "Aemond is a clever man."

"Alicent said the same of me." She paused for the slightest moment before continuing to brush my hair.

"Do you care for Aemond?" She asked, catching me off guard.

"No, of course not, I just-" I stopped. It was far too complicated to describe how I felt for Aemond. He killed my brother and took me hostage, but maybe a part of me did care for him.

"It isn't anything you need to decide for tonight. For now, you sleep for as long as you wish. You are safe at home." She tucked me into the bed and kissed the top of my head before walking toward the door.

"Wait!" I stopped, feeling too silly to speak my thoughts aloud. I was brave and strong. "Never mind."

My mother smiled knowingly and came back to the bed to lay next to me. She ran her fingers through my hair and softly sang songs of Old Valeryia until I fell asleep.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support on Part 1. I had no idea so many people would enjoy it! I can continue it if people want that or this could be a good place to end it as well.

Taglist: @bellameshipper @malfoytargaryen @castellomargot @toodlesxcuddles @jennifer0305 @1950schick @minttea07 @bogwaterswamp @deadunicorn159 @shygardengalaxy @siriusdumblittlepuppy

#imagine #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #velaryon!reader

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kckt88 · 1 year ago

Text

Rooks Rest & The Silver King.

Summary:

The dragons dance and a Regent is crowned.

Warning(s): Swearing, Dragon Battle, Injuries, Blood, Anger, Resentment, Argument, Smut, Rough P in V sex.

Word Count: 3020.

Author Note: A companion piece to Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye, The Fallen Queen & New Beginnings.

But can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Picture credit: Battle at Rook's Rest by Kamil Winczewski @hive_mind_3ddesigns

Aemond stretched his arms across the bed and panicked when his hand met the cold empty space next to him.

“Vaera” said Aemond as he shot up, looking wildly around the room.

“Husband”

Aemond looked towards the lounge area and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Vaera and Rhaegar sitting together, eating breakfast.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” asked Aemond as he clambered out of bed and pulled on some breeches and a loose tunic.

“I didn’t want to disturb you” replied Vaera.

“Daddy. Sit” said Rhaegar patting the seat next to him.

Aemond smiled slightly as he sat next to Rhaegar, who was busy colouring.

“What are you drawing?” asked Aemond curiously.

“A picture for Aemon. Mama said we could put it in his special place” replied Rhaegar.

Aemond took Vaera’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“Are you, ok?”

“I’m ok” replied Vaera quietly.

Since she had almost thrown herself from a window in the Red Keep, it had taken some time for Vaera to come back to herself.

Aemond and Rhaegar were a constant presence by her side. Helping her during her darkest days. Where they would curl up together in their chambers and hold each other until the darkness ebbed.

Even though his ashes had been entered into the great sept. Aemond had a special plaque made in the gardens for Aemon. Despite his desire to be just like his father, Aemon always loved the gardens, especially when he would chase after Rhaegar the pair of them would roll on the grass together giggling.

It gave Vaera a sense of comfort, as she would often spend hours just sitting in front of Aemon’s plaque talking and reading his favourite book.

Her other salvation came in the form of Cannibal.

Her fiercely loyal dragon who gracefully took to the skies with his rider and flew for as long as they both needed too. Sometimes Brightfyre would accompany them, the dark blue scales of Aemon’s dragon shimmering in the sunlight as he broke through the clouds, chirping expectantly at Cannibal who had no qualms about keeping his hatchling in line as he would often throw a customary snarl in his direction.

But the war between the Greens and the Blacks still raged.

Aemond was still no closer to discovering what had happened to Lucerys and the realm was up in arms over the murders of Jaehaerys and Aemon.

Something had to change, Daemon still held Harrenhall and Rhaenyra remained holed up on Dragonstone.

Aegon had grown tired of his grandsire’s inaction and lack of progress, so he removed him from his position as Hand of the King and temporarily promoted Ser Criston Cole instead.

The former Kings guard offered a more aggressive strategy.

One that involved Aegon, Aemond and their dragons. Vaera offered to help but it was imperative that she remain in Kings Landing.

Her Cannibal was the second largest dragon in the world, and he would provide an ample defence should the need arise.

In addition to the dragons Vhagar and Sunfyre, Aegon and Criston marched out of King's Landing with 100 knights, 500 men-at-arms, and three times as many sells words: thus about 2,400 in total. The forced addition of men from Rosby and Stokeworth would have increased this to slightly under 3,000 men by the time they reached Duskendale.

First they reached Rosby and Stokeworth, whose lords were Blacks but had been captured in King's Landing during the initial coup, and agreed to bend the knee in order to spare their own lives. Having secured their submission, Aegon’ s host passed bloodlessly through both castles and even added their strength to his own.

During the sack of Duskendale, Lord Gunthor Darklyn was beheaded for treason. Most of his household knights submitted to King Aegon, although a few loyal knights decided to follow Gunthor in death.

Then they marched to Rooks Rest, where a trap was set for the Blacks.

Lord Staunton closed the gates of Rook's Rest, but he was unable to prevent Criston from burning his fields or killing his smallfolk and livestock. He asked for assistance from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen by sending a raven to Dragonstone.

Nine days later, Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, and her dragon, Meleys, the Red Queen, arrived above Rook's Rest to aid Lord Staunton.

However, Criston was prepared and had his archers and scorpions fire at Meleys. The dragon was largely unharmed by these attacks, and she responded by burning Criston's soldiers with dragon fire.

Meleys was then attacked by King Aegon atop Sunfyre and Aemond atop Vhagar. The aerial combat between the two dragons of the Greens and the one dragon of the Blacks not only saw the death of the Red Queen Meleys but Rhaenys and Aegon were severely injured.

Aemond, Criston, and the surviving Greens took Rook's Rest and killed Lord Staunton and his garrison of one hundred soldiers.

Rhaenys was sent back to Driftmark to recover from her injuries and Aegon was carried back to Kings Landing atop Vhagar with an injured Sunfyre returning to the dragon pit.

The severed heads of Lord Staunton and Meleys were paraded through the streets of Kings Landing in a show of the Greens victory over the Blacks.

Vaera however grateful that her grandmother Rhaenys had managed to survive, did not take too kindly to the treatment of her dragon Meleys.

“You are the rider of the mighty Vhagar, the last living remnant of Aegon’s conquest, how could you desecrate the symbol of our house in such a manner” snarled Vaera.

“I did what needed doing. She would have killed Aegon”.

“But to parade the head of my grandmothers dragon through the streets of Kings Landing as some sort of trophy. It’s sick” said Vaera.

“That dragon was responsible for the deaths of hundreds when she burst through the floor of the dragon pit, the people of Kings Landing need to see their King defending them”.

“Whatever you say Aemond” retorted Vaera as she hauled Rhaegar into her arms and stormed out of the room, leaving an irritated Aemond in her wake.

During the battle of Rooks Rest, Aegon suffered a number of burns and had broken his leg and arm.

He was far too injured to properly serve the realm as its King.

So, the decision was made to crown Aemond as regent until Aegon recovered.

Vaera stood with Rhaegar as she watched Criston place the conquerors crown on Aemond’s head.

As he sat on the Iron Throne, the Lords present lowered themselves to one knee and pledged their support to Aemond Prince Regent of the Seven Kingdoms.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, the Red Keep, had become so eerily quiet. No mindless gossip or laughing children running through the corridors.

No words were spoken as the people of Kings Landing held their breath to see if King Aegon would survive his injuries.

Before this, on the nights when sleep would escape them, when Aemond was still a constant presence in their chambers, the nights when he had been demanding, ravenous and insatiable.

The nights when his slender fingers moved over the soft womanly curves of her body, the nights where he would nestle himself between her thighs and press his mouth against her hot wet cunt, her breathless moans echoing around their chambers.

But those nights were nothing more than a faded memory. Aegon’s injuries, and the deaths of Aemon and Jaehaerys had cast a dark cloud over the Red Keep.

Now, Vaera could count on one hand, the dwindling number of times she had seen her husband in the wake of the Council naming him Prince Regent in his brother’s stead.

Vaera cannot stop the resentment that forms deep inside her as she watches him get dressed.

The scalding wretched blackened thing that slithers and coils in her stomach like a snake as he presses a brief kiss her cheek before he leaves, slipping seamlessly from their chambers like the ghost he was.

She almost despises it, this nameless ugly thing that has robbed a husband from his wife and a father from his son.

This thing that keeps taking and taking, even more still.

The deep-seated resentment continues to grow and fester even as he slips into the bed behind her sometime during the night, pressing his body against hers, before drifting off almost immediately after looping his arms around her.

Sometimes she would remove herself from his grasp and go sleep in the nursery with Rhaegar. Night after night she would lie staring at the ceiling wishing her husband would pay her some semblance of attention.

But the crown weighed heavy and the responsibility even heavier still.

One night after seeing Rhaegar to bed, she finds Aemond sitting silently in their chambers, staring into the fire.

"Husband" said Vaera, watching as Aemond flinched at the bite in her voice.

The urge to snap at him grows and festers like a wound.

Yet before she can utter a word, a flash of crimson catches her attention.

Vaera’s eyes flick to the side briefly to see his crown, the crown that belonged to his brother, placed on top of her vanity table, the ruby twinkling at her as it caught the low glow emitted from the fire.

Vaera stands over the crown, staring down at the blackened metal. Every time she sees it, the uglier it becomes, this relic of long dead Kings, the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty.

It paled in comparison to the crown her grandsire Viserys once wore.

This thing was as dark as a shadow, all consuming, sweeping over the Red Keep and everyone in its path. Leaving no room for the light.

The longer she looks at it, the more she loathes it. This object that has stolen her husband and deprived Rhaegar of his father.

She’d had enough.

“All you care about is that damn crown” snapped Vaera.

“What?” asked Aemond his single amethyst eye widening.

“You heard me. This thing, this ugly disgusting crown. You care more about that, than you do me or your son” snarled Vaera as she took hold of the crown and launched it across the room.

The clang of metal hitting the wall, echoed around their chambers.

“Everything I do is for you and Rhaegar” snarled Aemond as he rose sharply from his chair.

“Yeah right. You’ve been far too preoccupied with those insufferable pricks on the council to even notice me or Rhaegar” retorted Vaera.

“I have a duty to the realm, I cannot fail” said Aemond.

“But you’ll happily fail in your duty as a husband and father” quipped Vaera.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT” shouted Aemond his lip curling.

“No how dare you. Ever since that fucking crown touched your head, me and Rhaegar have been nothing but an afterthought to you” snarled Vaera.

“That’s not true”.

“Yes, it bloody well is. Haven’t you noticed that Rhaegar no longer calls for you to read to him at bedtime, or how he never asks you to take him to see Valaerys anymore?” said Vaera.

“I didn’t ask for this” exclaimed Aemond as he wrenched off his eyepatch and threw it on the chair.

“Didn’t refuse it though, did you?” snapped Vaera.

“How could I? Aegon is injured. Jaehaerys is dead, and Maelor is naught but a child. I’m next in line for the throne. I have to be the one to wear the crown”.

“Even if at the cost of your wife and son?” asked Vaera.

“What do you mean?”.

“You don’t care about us. All you’ve ever wanted is that crown and now you have it. I hope it was worth it” said Vaera.

“Worth it?” questioned Aemond.

“It cost Aemon and Jaehaerys their lives. It might even claim the life of your brother and yet you still clamour for it like a desperate child wanting to be fed” said Vaera.

“How can you even say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. Maybe if your grandsire wasn’t so relentless in advancing Aegon as heir, this might not have happened. Aemon might still be alive. Jaehaerys might still be alive and Luke-“ said Vaera.

“-I thought you understood. Aegon is the first-born son, the Throne was his by right”.

“What if I was my mother’s heir instead of Jacaerys? What if I was in line for the Throne? Would you still be saying the same then? Or would you snatch your own sons birth right from under him?” screamed Vaera.

“It’s irrelevant. You are not your mother’s heir. She passed you over in favour of that strong bastard boy of hers” replied Aemond.

“I will take Rhaegar and leave Kings Landing. Leave you and your fucking crown”.

“YOUR NOT FUCKING GOING ANYWHERE” snarled Aemond viciously.

“Going to stop me, are you? How exactly are you going to do that when you barely pay me any attention. I bet you wouldn’t even notice that I’d gone” balled Vaera.

“You will not leave me. You will not take my son” ordered Aemond as he drew himself to his full height and stared down at his wife, his lip curling.

"I will fly my Cannibal across the narrow sea and you will never see either of us again" threatened Vaera as she stood against Aemond, her body pressed against his.

"NO YOU WON'T!"

“I shall and you will never-“ stuttered Vaera as Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Vaera ripped herself away from Aemond. Staring at him as she put a hand to her mouth.

The resentment swirling in the pit of her stomach was now morphing into something else. The dormant fire of their relationship was roaring to life once more. Coursing through her body.

One kiss, that was all it took. She needed more. She needed him.

Suddenly Vaera wrapped her arms around Aemond's neck and drew him in back in.

Their kiss was rough and vicious. Consisting of teeth and tongue.

It had been so long since they’d shared any form of intimacy.

Aemond backed Vaera towards the bed, his hands tearing off her shift until it was a ragged mess on the floor.

It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.

Aemond took a brief minute to yank off his tunic and shirt before he shoved Vaera on the bed, her back colliding with the mattress with a soft thump.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Vaera moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Aemond pulled away to unfasten his breeches and push them down, freeing his hard cock.

Vaera lay back on the bed, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Aemond runs his hand up and down the length of himself, eyeing his wife with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she parts her legs for him.

As he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“FUCKING TAKE IT!” spits Aemond, wrapping a hand around her throat while the other digs into her hip, pulling her aggressively against him to meet each one of his hard thrusts.

Vaera can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Vaera.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

As Aemond’s hips begins to falter in their movements, Aemond snakes a hand between their joined bodies, his long fingers expertly circling her pearl, causing heat to bloom in her stomach.

He presses down more firmly, making faster movements against her bud making her shudder, as a sudden warmth crashes over her in waves making her cry out, her cunny tightening around him.

“AEMOND!!” screams Vaera as her hands claw at his back.

“Fuck!! baby, that’s it come all over my cock!” growls Aemond as he moves to grab the headboard, bracing himself as he continues to pound his hips against hers.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.

With a loud animalistic groan, Aemond stills, leaning over his wife, his cock pulsating as he spills his seed deep inside her.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” asked Aemond quietly as he observed the reddened marks that littered his wife’s pale skin.

“No” whispered Vaera, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Y-Your crying” muttered Aemond.

“I-I’m not crying because I’m hurt. I-I’m sorry for what I said” whispered Vaera as she pressed her face into Aemond’s side.

“Vaera” exclaimed Aemond, wrapping his arms around his wife’s shaking form.

“I would never leave you and take Rhaegar. I just feel like I’m losing you. Ever since Aegon was crowned everything has gone wrong” sniffed Vaera.

“I know” murmured Aemond pressing his lips to Vaera’s head.

“We’ve lost Aemon and Jaehaerys. Luke’s dead and we don’t know if Aegon will recover. Your grandsire said crowning Aegon would prevent a war, but it started one” replied Vaera.

“We had no other option. If your mother took the crown, she would have killed us”.

“Y-You don’t know that for sure” whispered Vaera.

“Yes, I do. Her rule as Queen would never be stable, there would always be discord and calls for Aegon to be King. He is Viserys’ first-born son. In order to secure the throne for herself, she would have to put us to the sword. Then there’s Jacaerys, a known bastard. Do you really think the realm would accept him as King once your mother passed” said Aemond firmly.

Vaera shook her head, she knew what Aemond was saying was right. War was inevitable.

“We need to be together in this Vaera. We cannot be divided any longer” urged Aemond.

“I know” muttered Vaera sadly.

“You and Rhaegar are my sole reason for existing. I would gladly lay down my life if it meant the both of you were safe”.

“No. Aemond” sobbed Vaera desperately clinging to Aemond.

“I just need you to know how much you and Rhaegar mean-”.

“-Love you so much” said Vaera.

“I love you too” replied Aemond.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fic #hotd smut

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humanpurposes · 7 months ago

Text

I Have Always Been A Storm, Part 2

Read the full chapter on AO3 // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon

In the year 128AC, Floris Baratheon weds Aemond Taragryen, a daughter and a son both driven to duty, now bound to each other when the realm is on the brink of war. Floris is enamoured by the Prince, but love is something she can only hope will bloom once her vows have been said before the eyes of the Seven- AU where Aemond and Floris marry before the Dance of the Dragons.

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage, canon divergence, angst, possibly quite a lot of angst, hurt/comfort

Two hundred guests stand before us in the royal sept.

Queen Alicent wished for us to be wed as soon as possible, in a less elaborate affair than the union of Aegon and Helana. This seemed like an agreeable decision in the eyes of the Small Council, one that would be more forgiving on the royal treasury. “All that money for the Princess to weep through the entire ceremony,” as Tyland Lannister had put it.

There can be no room for mistakes on my part. I am an outsider in King’s Landing. I often find myself dressed in gowns of green, a paler shade than the Queen’s own gowns, but I am still a Baratheon. I have to be perfect. I will be perfect.

I’ve hardly seen my betrothed since I said my farewells to my family. The Queen says Aemond keeps himself busy. In the mornings he takes to the training yard to spar with Ser Criston Cole, then he rides Vhagar over the Kingswood and Blackwater Bay. Some mornings I watch them from my balcony. Otherwise he spends the rest of the day in the library, devoting himself to his studies, looking over papers of state given to him by the Hand, his grandfather.

I know my chambers aren’t far from his, and yet I take my meals alone. I spend a lot of my time alone when I’m not joining the Queen in her morning prayers. She keeps telling me that things will be different once I am married.

My gown is gold and white with patterns of flowers in the skirt. The fabric flows in the breeze from the open windows. Summer will be nearing its end soon, but the sun has shone proudly over King’s Landing for the last few days. I try not to show the discomfort on my face, but I feel sweat beading under my dress, droplets running down my back.

Aemond wears a jerkin of green, the three-headed dragon embroidered in gold across his chest, the same eyepatch over his head. My eyes trail down from his jaw to the opening of his collar, where his skin shifts as he swallows against the unbearable heat.

He has already replaced my maiden’s cloak with one in the colours of his own house. We place our hands together and the septon binds us together with a tie of black silk.

His eye meets mine and we say the words.

“I am yours, and you are mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

I am not sure I believe what I’m saying. I want to. I want him to mean it too.

Aemond steps into me, taking my chin in his fingertips to tilt my head upwards.

I’m aware of every sensation, the sweltering heat, the nervous feeling in my stomach, the fluttering in my chest, the shallowness of my breaths, all as if they’re happening to someone else and not me. It’s like I’m watching myself in a dream, existing in a memory.

I close my eyes.

He hesitates before he puts his lips to mine. He kisses me softly, slowly, and I want it to consume me. But then he parts from me and I feel empty. I feel incomplete.

Full chapter on AO3

Tags (commented to be added)

Series taglist: @tulips2715

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @jamespotterismydaddy @tsujifreya @blackswxnn

#my fics #florismond #floris x aemond #floris baratheon x aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fic #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #floris baratheon #aemond targaryen smut #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fic #asoiaf fanfic

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ladystarksneedle · 1 year ago

Text

Running for the hills

Aemond x niece reader

A/N: For @hotd-bigbang

Prompt: Fire | Furs | Forest (December 4th)

This can be read in continuation to "A fool for you" or as a standalone too.

Word count: 1k

Dividers by @saradika

Next>

The stench of charred flesh wafts up to her nose, covered in soot, as she recoils in disgust. There are flames all around her, licking at the dense forests below, smoke hissing through the steaming waters of the Riverlands as she soars above. Dragons of red and brown circle each other in agitation as they continue forwards, frustration coursing through them all, over yet another day of failure. She knows the outcome of their defeat when they return. Daemon will retire with his young mistress to conquer yet another night while she's left alone to stew with her thoughts, wallowing in misery. She had promised her mother so much before she left, vowing to keep an eye on him, praying to be given leave to be of use to their war. She feels the familiar ache of emptiness in her chest as they descend, the orange of the horizon mocking her in its wake. Naerax roars in discontent as she pats her goodbye, knowing her cries at night shall keep them both company. She can sense him near, like a shadow still clinging to her, a shroud of the past they both share. His betrayal stings even more with the blood on his hands and she wishes nothing more than to stain hers with his own.

The castle before them looms in white stone, a stark contrast to the ash they're covered in as they trek back together. She sees them bump their shoulders as they walk ahead with her jumping up to reach his height as he chuckles, lingering behind to give them space.

“I do not wish to lose you” her mother had said when she'd requested to be sent for the task at hand.

“I want to make you proud, kostilus muña” (please mother)

“It isn't safe and with what happened with-” She doesn't need to finish before she moves to hold her hands. They feel cold to touch, clammy with the burden of gold on her head.

“I'd be with Daemon. Besides there'll be three of us, Vhagar won't stand a chance” she assured her, unable to utter his name.

“Why do you wish to do this?” her mother had asked in resignation.

“This war is mine to end. He needs to pay for what he's done"

The words left unsaid linger on, as she looks back at the sky, "to me" haunts her still.

She hears their laughter at dinner, sees the girl her age flick a few grapes off her plate, teasing the man before her jovially. The word father rings in her head, rotten as it has always felt. The burden of not knowing who to address by the title and learning it was actually someone she came to love far too late, dawns on her as they continue, oblivious to her sulking. The man before her is her father in name, more farcial than the ones preceding him, yet loved by her mother the most. She remembers their wedding, how the wind howled as they spoke their vows and spilt their blood for each other. She had watched in awe and fear wishing for it to be her someday with the boy she yearned for having already spilt his the night before. Perhaps their fate was always sealed in blood, meant to be mourned rather than delighted in.

The years following the incident passed in anticipation and doubt. She felt it creep into her being as she learnt and flew, pushing herself to be her very best, thinking of him doing the same across the bay. She willed herself to sleep each night, praying to see him again if only to say she was sorry. She wondered if he thought of her just as she did of him.

Her nights now feel just as futile, mind racing as the bed above her chambers creaks and groans rhythmically, her words of promise to her queen one with the wind.

She's haunted by new ones at dawn with a scroll arriving, detailing his activities. He seems to have taken a bedmate, a witch they call her, bewitching and insidious, who can cast spells and control flames. Daemon laughs with mirth as he dismisses the maester “Let him have his fun, he'll not evade us for long”

The pit of dread in her belly deepens as he crumples the scroll in his hands. For once the girl ahead of her shares her apprehension.

Their scouring lessens for a while, with her choosing to go out on her own. It doesn't take much to convince her guardian who waves her off with a flick of his wrist. “Do not stray too far, zaldrītsos. I'll know if you do” he warns her as she takes off with the rising sun. It bathes her in its warmth as she tries to hide from the heat below fueling her need for blood. She feels the need to see him again, to see his eye before she plunges her dagger in his heart and feels his essence on her fingers. “Look at what you've done to me” she screams as she flies, the word “why” echoing through the dark clouds as she weeps.

“What are you reading?” she quipped secretly watching him from behind the bookshelves.

She remembers him hastily shutting his tome as he scrambled to get away, the furs around him pooling at his feet, a gift from a northern lord as a token for his siblings’ wedding.

“Go back to the feast. You don't belong here” he had said as he left, shutting the door to her broken heart.

The black ahead clogs her mind as she flies through it, descending near a clearing shrouded in smoke. Naerax roars in warning, restless as she tries to soothe her before a flash of blue strikes her eye. Near a rivulet, glinting through the haze she sees the figure of her dreams take shape, her lips sealing with horror as he comes to life.

“Byka nūmio, how fitting to have found you by the water” he croons. “I've been waiting for you” (little pearl)

The ground around her feels soft as she remembers the furs in her chambers at last, tucked away with the forgotten tome bearing his mark.

“I could never forget you”

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

#house of the dragon #hotd winter prompts 23 #aemond x niece!reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond fics #zae's fics #aemond imagine #hotd fic #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

Text

Desire & Duty (1)

I. Fire & Blood

MASTERLIST

Summary: Aemond finds a way to take his pleasure in his duty

Pairings: Helaena x Targaryen!sister reader, Aegon II x Helaena, future Aemond x Targaryen!reader x Helaena

Warnings: Medieval ASOIF Customs, canon incest, cursing, polyamorous, incestous polygamy, Aemond is more savvy to girl on girl love 😂, mentions of war and death, blood, unreal ceremonies involving fire and blood, blood drinking, lip slicing, polyamorous marriage, jiji you know what this is about

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: I’m going to do what I think the TV series is going to do, Maelor, (Aegons’s and Helaena’s youngest son) isn’t alive (yet maybe?), Helaena doesn’t lose any children, I want only love and sex for our beautiful Helaena. ALSO, maybe spoilers… this will be smoother, like I said, I want it to be short, sweet and kinky, so I’m not going to dwindle on details jiji

Two years later

Too much had changed

Too many had died

Too many loose, too much war and trauma

The entire country was destroyed, burned, people were merely joining together after being divided by war.

He had to put together a new council, his grandfather died, so it all stood between Tyland Lannister, as the master of coin, Corlys Velaryon as the master of ships, and other old men.

And now, as he was recently made King, everyone, his mother specially, were urging him to take a wife.

All the surviving Targaryen children had proposals for their hands…

But he already knew what he wanted, he had wanted it for years

First, since he was a child, he always wanted to marry his younger sister, she would always follow him around, even though if her dragon hatched and his didn’t, she would always be kind to him, they would read together, take their lessons together, when he lost his eye, she comforted him, and wouldn’t leave his side for months. He always knew they were destined to be together, to marry in the tradition of their house. And he had always loved Helaena deeply as well, he always resented the way Aegon treated her, and a fierce need to protect her was born in him.

And then he learned about you both, spending your nights in each other's embrace, and he thought he would lose his mind.

When the war broke out after he accidentally murdered Lucerys, he had to put all his fantasies about his sister in the back of his mind. He needed to have a clear head, but he never forgot about everything he heard and saw.

Everything he did he did for his two sisters, all of it, he fought with determination against Daemon and prevailed, only with the thought of seeing you both again, only with the determination of telling you how much he desired you and loved you. He won.

Even though you were in the battlefield as well

He was King now, his brother, Aegon, was dead, his half sister Rhaenrya, was dead, his nephews were dead. The only ones he had left were his beautiful sisters, Helaena, her and Aegon’s children, and (Y/N). Also his mother had survived the rage of Rhaenyra.

They had won

He sat the Iron Throne as a Regent, waiting for his nephew to come of age, but he was in all effects, a King, the King of the Seven Kingdoms

So when his mother suggested you marry a Lannister, Helaena be sent away to Dorne, and he a Baratheon girl, he lost it

“I will not sell my sister away!”, he barked, “she has been through enough!”

“She is a young woman…”, clarified Alicent, “she still has her children by Aegon… but she can still have more children, we need to make alliances”

“What we need is to make the House of the Dragon strong again, diluting our blood with those houses will not help us”, Alicent looked at him in terror, deducing what he was saying

“You cannot wed Helaena… it will look terrible to the smallfolk”, she warned, thinking about how they raised against them, supporting one of Aegon’s bastard children

“A dragon cares about the opinion of sheeps then?”, he mocked

“Aemond”

“Our family had been decimated”, he barked, “The Targaryen line is in the brink of extinction, we need to keep the family pure”, Alicent looked like she had been struck

“It is not wise”, she begged, but sending her daughter away didn’t pleased her either, Helaena was the… gentler… of her children, and she would not wish to see her part from her home and her family. And Aemond seemed determined, so she sighed loudly, “Helaena has her children by Aegon”, she repeated, but she relented, “and what about your other sister?”, she asked then. Aemond chuckled

“I will take them both to wife”, and right there, Aemond thought fleetingly that Alicent has survived the Targaryen civil war, but this just might end up finishing her off.

“No”, she sentenced, Aemond only smiled

“I will take them both to wife, Jahaerys will succeed me either way, no matter what I do, I’m just King Regent”, he said mindesly

“No Aemond, you can marry (Y/N) if you want, but not both”, she said, but there was nothing she could say to prevent it

She could argue that the faith would oppose it, but it was terribly weakened, almost to extinction, by Rhaenyra when she attacked the city, that was a blow thrown directly at her, and her faith.

“You better let me marry both, as I will take Helaena as a lover either way”, he warned, and Alicent’s eyes filled with tears

“What did I do wrong with all of you?”, she lamented, finding it incredibly unfair that she couldn’t pass down her faith to any of her children. “this is twisted! you are not Aegon the Conqueror”

Targaryens, as their dragons, didn’t answer to neither Gods nor men, Alicent often failed to remember that

“I might as well be”, he said dismissively, “I will wed my sisters, and have children with both”

Alicent just cried silently, but said nothing.

Many things have happened in the last few years. A war broke out, a war for the throne. There was no time for anything else, you never got betrothed, you were dispensable, now that your sister and brother were Queen and King, Helaena couldn’t fight on dragonback, but you could.

And so you offered yourself as a dragon rider, even against your mother’s wishes, but Dreamfyre was already grounded, your dragon Vhaelar was needed in the battlefield, and so were you. You had burned armies to the ground, you had commanded the death of people by the thousands.

Now wearing dresses and jewelry was almost foreign to you, as the maids helped you dress with a beautiful crimson red gown. they braided your hair and placed rubies between your silver strands, they placed a necklace with the same precious gems around your neck, and you put multiple rings on your fingers

You saw your sister entering your chambers, and you smiled brightly at her sight

“Is it odd that I find dresses incredibly comfortable after being two years dressed in riding gear and coat of mail?”, you asked her cheekily, she only shook her head

“It isn’t”, you hugged her tightly and she hugged you back, burying her face on your neck

“It’s finally over”, what marked the end of the war was the defeat and surrender of the Northerner army. Cregan Stark finally yielded after the ship were Rhaenyra’s last sons had sunk in the Narrow sea after a final attack from the Triarchy’s fleet

You did not cheer for their deaths, they were only children after all, innocent little children, your nephews, if you managed to get a hold of them, they were going to be raised in the castle with princess Jahaera and Jahaerys, but no. Fate had other plans

The wolf had surrendered and pardoned, marching North as you both held each other, the last one standing

The war was over.

You were preparing for weeks of celebrations, but you only wanted to be in between your sister’s loving arms.

But again, destiny had other plans

You mother entered the room, enthralled in her own mind to notice the not so sisterly embrace, you and Helaena separated to greet your mother. The Queen Mother now

“I have something important to discuss”, you guessed it couldn’t be anything good, she had that scowl on her face

“what is it dear mother?”, asked Helaena

“Your brother, the King”, you noticed she had a sort of fascination for saying his title, “wants to take a wife”

You didn’t know why, but a bitter taste installed in your mouth. Was Aemond going to get married?

You always believed you were going to marry your brother, you loved him, but you also believed your mother had only betrothe your eldest siblings to avoid Helaena being married to Jacaerys, and you then believed you were going to be married to Jace, but then the war happened, Jace had died.

“Who does he intend to marry?”, you notice that Helaena was frowning, clearly not thrilled with the news as well as you

You two had always been so jealous with Aemond, when there was discussions of Floris Baratheon marrying him you wanted to feed her to your dragon. In your mind, Aemond was yours, you were born to be together, you were born younger than him to be his wife, as the tradition of your house dictated.

Helaena grabbed your hand and held it tightly,making you wince, your mother didn’t seemed to notice

“He intents to take you both to wife”

And different emotions filled you

In a first instance it was bittersweet because your mother truly looked like she was going to be sick, her mouth twisted in disgust. But you felt incredibly happy and relieved, joyous even

Helaena did as well, and she held your hand tightly and smiled at you

That your mother did notice

“You will say no”, she demanded

“Why?”, you couldn’t help but ask, and she looked at you like she wanted to strike you

“Because it's an aberration!”, she screeched, Helaena walked until she was behind you, hiding from her own mother, and you gladly protected her

“If our king wants to marry us, who are we to say no?”, you mocked, and her face twisted even more. Her mouth turned into a horrible expression of disgust and horror, as her eyes shined with tears of anger

“All of you…!”, she seemed to gather air, as the words that would come out of her mouth tasted like poison in her tongue, “... ARE SICK!”, it didn’t take long for her to place two and two together, she believed you both were going to be horrified by the news of her, she never thought you BOTH would like the prosper of sharing a bed with your brother Aemond, “I FORBID IT”

You had never seen your mother like this, she lost it, completely lost it, and if it weren’t for Helaena, and her trembling frame behind you, you would have been scared also, but you couldn’t afford that luxury, when you felt Helaena whimper behind your back, you felt the need to protect her, even if you needed to protect her from your own mother.

“I RAISED WHORES!”, and she cursed you all, Helaena, you, Aemond, all of you, cursed by your own mother. She screeched, threw around everything she could get her hands on, you turned back and hugged Helaena against you, trying to cover her ears as Alicent destroyed everything around you.

But she couldn’t destroy your love…

The guards posted outside your doors heard the commotion, and ran to get the King’s guard, and as two of the white capes ran towards Helaena’s, (the Queen’s) rooms, one of them fetched Aemond

Three white capes ended up entering the room, Aemond trotting behind them, and under his command, they grabbed your mother, firmly, but gently, and removed her from your space

You said nothing but grabbed Helaena’s hand and led her to your own rooms, which were still quiet.

They were small, but still in Maegor’s Holdfast, you had insisted in this room because it had big windows, looked into Blackwater bay, and still got sun for most part of the day.

Aemond quickly followed you

When he decided to marry you both, he knew he was going to face opposers, he knew his mother, and her strong beliefs, he was also reminded she betrothed her two oldest children to prevent Rhaenyra on insisting to marry Jacaerys and Helaena

She did not share the Valyrian customs.

That and the civil war that killed her father, Aegon, and almost her grandchildren, had left her in the brink of mental collapse

But it didn’t hurt less, having your own mother scream at you like this.

As soon as you arrived in the comfort of your room, you took Helaena’s hands in yours, she was still shaking, and you kissed them, caressing the back of their hands with your thumbs, immediately soothing her, but yet not enough.

You looked at Aemond, who was standing by the door

It was strange

Every time you saw him, you immediately felt relieved, like everything was going to be alright. Like you were lost in the sea and he was the light of the lighthouse, guiding you back home.

The last two years, you had been separated by the war, and you had just got back home after months leading the Green Army of Old Town, you still had to welcome in each other's lives

But Helaena holds tight to you, and in that moment, nothing else matters. You turned to her, she leaned in and you made your forehead touch, your hand went to softly cradle her cheek

“Everything is going to be alright”, you whispered, and she nodded slightly, “We are together again, nothing will come between us, not even her”

“She hates us”, she whined, “her own blood”

“She doesn't hate us, she doesn’t understand us”, you said simply, she just shook her head, and hid in your neck, you hugged her tightly against you

“I send her to her rooms in the tower of the hand”, he offered, “until she can think about what she did”, you barely nodded, but Helaena wasn’t pleased with that decision

“It is not going to change her mind”, she whispered sadly, She squeezed your hand in hers

“Is it true, brother?”, you asked softly, “that you want to marry us?”, you sounded hopeful, and innocent, and that made Aemond tight in his breeches embarrassingly fast

But he regained his composure, he grasped his hands behind his back, and straightened his posture, looking at the both of you with respect, and also devotion

“I can’t stand the thought of anyone else taking you both away from here, away from me”, he admitted

He had to be straight forward, he had known you for all your life, he wanted you both, he desired you, and he was going to have you

“Our mother has forbid us”, you said, and he smiled when he saw a hint of a smirk on your lips

“I will send her away”, he said simply, “she will benefit from being in Old Town, with her family”, he took a step towards you both, and you didn’t move, you just looked back at him, “the real question is, what do you both want to do?”, you looked at each other and smiled

Aemond looked at your intertwined handsome and smirked as well

“I know about both of you”, he said, he walked until he was within your reach, he reached for both of you, and you reached back, soon all of your hands were intertwined, “I will protect you”, he said softly, looking at you and then looking at Helaena, “together we will rule the seven Kingdoms, like Aegon did with Visenya and Rhaenys by his side”, he said, and even though you didn’t believe that was the right reason to join in marriage like Aegon had done, you nodded, and looked at Helaena who nodded as well.

You both turned to Aemond

“My beautiful sisters”, he whispered, his voice thick with desire, “I couldn’t stand the thought of any other man having you”, he leaned in, first towards you, and trapped your lips with his, it was sweet and passionate, it took your breath away, but before it could escalate he abandoned you and turned to Helaena

She was expecting him and devoured him with need and passion.

“No one is ever going to touch you ever again”, he said possessively, “you will be mine, and mine alone, you will give me heirs as well”

“Mother will never allow it”, she whispered

“We are the blood of the dragons, and dragons answer to neither gods nor men”, he growled

Aemond led you to the Dragonpit, and from there, you took your dragons, Helaena on her beautiful she-dragon Dreamfyre, Aemond in the monstrous Vhagar, and you, in Vhagar’s hatchling, or so they said, Vhaelar.

He had grown to be a male, you and Helaena discovered both your dragons coiled together in the pit, you had heard Vhaelar sing to Dreamfyre, and since they had been seen together, Dreamfyre had laid various clutches of eggs. It was so sweet.

Aemond led you, and it didn’t take long for you to realize you were flying towards Dragonstone.

As soon as you landed in the Dragonmount, the Dragon keepers received you.

They knew, you knew, it was an immediate understanding.

Before the end of the day, you and Helaena were fixing each other's headdress and ceremonial robes.

“We will not be married to one another”, she whispered sadly, fixing a silver string that framed your face

“We will”, you whispered

“We will be both married to Aemond”, she said then… and you just giggled

“And that will be enough, we will be together forever”, you said with a wide smile, she smiled back.

So you joined hands, and together, you walked towards the beach

The night had already fallen over the Island, but yet, thanks to the fires lit all over the beach, you were able to see clearly Aemond and the Dragon keepers

Aemond looked so handsome, his eyepatch was missing, his beautiful sapphire shining thanks to the flames of the fire, his hair loose, neatly combed back, he reached for the both of you, taking one of your hands and one of Helaena’s

In a strange way, you always knew this was going to be the beginning for you. Even though that for Helaena, it was like a second opportunity, and for Aemond… for Aemond it was his dream come true.

The night was calm, a nice summer night, the star were shining brightly, there was no wind, none, the only sounds that could be heard where the ones of the fires crackling, and the soft voice of the Dragon Keeper, reciting the vows

You knew High Valyrian, it was the only thing your father had ever insisted regarding the education of his children, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite pay attention. Your sole attention was on Aemond in front of you, and Helaena by your side.

The touch in your hands, where Helaena and you hold hands, the breathing of your siblings, and soon your spouses…, the night was magical, you could feel it in the air.

You could hear your dragons singing, you could feel the words of the keeper

Fire & Blood

The words that bound you, the words that led your house.

Amond took a knife made of dragon glass, he gently sliced Helaena’s hand, and then yours, you winced at the sting, but it passed quickly, you then grabbed the knife together with Helaena, and asliced one of his hands.

Your blood flowed freely to the chalice underneath, the blood of the three of you.

Then Aemond sliced your lip, and then Helaena’s, and then you sliced his. with the blood from your lips he drew a symbol in your forehead, looking straight into your eyes you got lost in his, he then drew on Helaena.

He kissed you sweetly, the tangy flavor of blood mixing in your tongue, then he leaned in and kissed Helaena. But then, you turned to your sister, and kissed her as well, surprising Aemond, and the dragon keeper as well

You were marrying her too, not only Aemond…

But now, you are married.

Married, bloodied, bonded together

In Fire and Blood.

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#misguideddesire #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #helaena x you #helaena targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x helaena #aemond x helaena x you #aemond x reader x helaena #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon

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marlequinncos · 4 months ago

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Now that HOTD Season 2 is over, I have a lot of thoughts about what has transpired. Full disclosure: I basically wrote an essay, so long post ahoy! I have read the book, meaning there are a couple book spoilers in here along with show spoilers. Also: there are all my personal opinions, so you may agree or disagree.

The Good

The show is beautifully shot and the cinematography is excellent. We've gotten some really gorgeous shots this season.

The dragons look great, they're animated well, and I like how we can really see their different personalities and their relationships with their riders.

The acting is solid pretty much across the board. Folks like Emma D'Arcy, Matt Smith, and Olivia Cooke are excellent as usual. The standout for me this season, though, is Tom Glynn-Carney as Aegon. He's thoroughly fleshed out his character and given him some really interesting shading and depth and I really enjoy watching him on-screen.

Some excellent new additions to the cast! Ser Simon Strong is a national treasure, Gwayne Hightower is a mood, Alys Rivers is who I aspire to be in life, and the Hull brothers are both interesting (especially their dichotomy) and they better show more with them as per the book.

Rook's Rest gave us our first real dragon battle of the show, and I thought it was really well done. I was concerned that it would be the kind of fight that's hard to follow visually, but it was clean and worked nicely. I also love that they made Aemond torching Aegon a conscious choice.

The costumes are, once again, beautiful.

The embroidery title sequence kicks a lot of ass, and I like how they're adding to it with major events.

I do really like how they've made Helaena a dreamer (which they started in season 1) and how she's a tragic Cassandra figure. However, I do have some issues with her that I'll talk about later.

The Red Sowing was done well. I was hoping we were going to see some people get incinerated to really underscore how dangerous claiming a dragon can be, and that did not disappoint.

Little Oscar Tully verbally suplexing Daemon through an announcer's table was everything I've ever wanted.

I really like the relationship between Rhaenyra and Alicent. That said, I think there are some real issues with the writing that I'll discuss below.

Big fan of them putting Tyland Lannister in Situations.

Aemond committing war crimes and serving cunt as ye olde Sephiroth. 10/10 no notes.

While I do think the tripping balls in Harrenhall arc went on for far too long, I like how the show is leaning into the magic of the world with the weirwoods and insane visions of the past, present, and future.

Women kissing

The Bad

The pacing. Listen, I like a slowburn (one of my favorite horror movies is The Witch which many people find boring), but the slow pacing has to build to something, and this entire season felt like it was just build-up with no payoff. Last season ended with a consequential event (death of Luke), and this season began with another (Blood and Cheese), yet I don't feel like those events have managed to push the plot forward. Even Rook's Rest, which seemed like we were finally getting the ramp up to all-out war that's been teased for one and a half seasons due to Aegon being burned and Rhaenys dying, didn't really ramp up the stakes. We're still waiting for the war, and it feels like Season 2 was just a giant teaser for Season 3 rather than a stepping stone of the whole story. Think of it this way: season 1 ended with a build-up to the war and yet somehow this season also ended as a build-up to the war. It doesn't feel like progress was made; we're essentially in the same spot. The season should have ended with either the taking of King's Landing or the Battle of the Gullet.

Blood and Cheese. There is a reason this event lives in infamy for book readers. It's essentially the Red Wedding of the Dance of Dragons, because of how truly heinous and horrifying of an event it is. But the show toned it down a lot, and I think that was a mistake. Not to mention the fact that the death of Aegon's heir, who was a literal child, only seemed to be an issue for about an episode, and then everyone kind of forgot about it. Frankly, I don't like how the deaths of Luke, Jaehaerys, and Rhaenys were somewhat glossed over other than an episode of some characters being sad. Those deaths should have reverberated with long-ranging consequences and I don't feel like that's the case.

The writing. It's just not as good this season. Yes, I know the writer's strike probably affected it, but still. The conversations are nowhere near as engaging or interesting as they were in season 1, and I'm someone who loves dialogue scenes of political intrigue. I also think some of the character decisions they've made don't work. The biggest issue I have in that regard is with Rhaenyra. I don't actually hate the scene in the Sept (even though I think it is kind of silly how Rhaenyra managed to sneak into KL without being detected), because I like how they establish that Alicent knows that was wrong in her assumption about Aegon and yet she doubles down and they both realize that war is now inevitable even if it all began because of a misunderstanding. But book Rhaenyra is both far more active and ruthless than her show counterpart. There's a reason they call her "Maegor with teats". I thought we were getting some of that "warrior queen Visenya" Rhaenyra during the Red Sowing episode, but the fact is that she's spent most of the season trying to decide on a course of action and trying to do everything peacefully. She should have thrown that out the window after her conversation with Alicent in the Sept. It's especially weird considering she ended season 1 out for blood for the death of Luke. I feel like the writers are afraid that having her sometimes make nasty decisions will make her unlikeable to the general audience. But by doing that, they've also reduced this fascinating woman into a shell of who she should be. Look at Dany and Cersei from GOT; both of them were women in positions of power who did not hesitate to make (sometimes bad) decisions and/or commit horrible acts to further their goals and guess what: for the most part, the audience liked them! Give me "blood and fire" Rhaenyra! Support women's wrongs! Make characters morally grey! LET WOMEN BE AWFUL!!

I also think that the writing is doing Alicent a disservice. They really don't know what to do with her, and its a shame because Olivia Cooke is great. She just feels rudderless to me.

It really looks like the show is cutting Nettles entirely and giving her plot to Rhaena and I don't like this choice. Nettles is an amazing character in her own right, and her relationship with Daemon is key for him to start changing his Targaryen supremacist worldview and for his arc as a whole. Plus, this takes away the significance of Rhaena and Morning at the conclusion of the Dance.

While I like Helaena being a dreamer, they need to give her more screen time and dialogue. Girl had almost nothing to do this season.

I wish we had seen more of Jace and Cregan in the North and the Pact of Ice and Fire. Not saying we need 20 minutes of that, but 5 would have been nice.

I like the idea of that big vision of the future in the finale, but knowing how GOT ended does soften the impact quite a bit. And I don't love that Daemon and Aemond kind of already know their fates?? That's definitely going to hurt their arcs going forward.

The season should have been 10 episodes. Having it be only 8 really messes with the pacing of the story. Not loving the 2 year breaks between seasons either.

The "Let's Wait and See"

Aegon said that Sunfyre is dead. I really hope he's wrong about that because boy howdy that will have major plot implications if Sunfyre really is dead.

DAERON REAL. It would have been nice if he had been mentioned in season 1 and actually seen in season 2, but at least we know he exists and isn't a cryptid. Hopefully we finally get to see him in action in season 3 because poor dude has just been implied for two whole seasons.

I hope we see more of the book's excellent side characters like Black Alys, Benjicot Blackwood, and Sabitha Frey (who we did technically see briefly, but if you're a book reader, you know what I'm talking about). I'd also like to see more Cregan.

Overall, I think the season was a mixed bag. I hope season 3 fixes some of the issues with pacing and writing, because they have a great cast and a show that looks beautiful.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd spoilers #chatterbox #long post

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aebi12 · 5 months ago

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"Resentment" - Chapter 14 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

Masterlist of my other works.

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

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Queen Alicent Hightower's private hall is busier than Rhaena expects when she and her sister enter after being announced.

“I thought it was going to be a family meal,” she says, confused, looking at the least a dozen other people scattered around the room.

“Better this way. I do not wish to interact with them more than necessary,” Baela replies, taking a glass of wine that a servant offers and downing it in one gulp.

The dowager queen catches her gaze from across the room, where she is speaking with Lord Hayford. The woman seems to apologize to the man before heading directly towards them.

“Rhaena, Lady Baela,” she greets with a polite smile, “It is a pleasure to have you here in the Fortress”

“Queen Alicent,” Rhaena bows, “Thank you very much for inviting us tonight.”

There is a moment of silence in which they both look at Baela, who finally speaks, “Queen Alicent.”

“Welcome to the Fortress, Lady Baela. I trust that the trip has been pleasant”

“Not as much as it was to travel on the back of my dragon, I assure you.”

Her words convey bitterness and Rhaena observes the queen's suppressed reaction, so she rushes to speak.

“We are both very happy to meet again,” she says, “We will take advantage of these days to catch up and enjoy each other. My sister even offered to help me with the embroidery of the bridal goods.”

The queen raises her eyebrows and looks at Baela, who thankfully restrains herself, “That is a great idea. Enjoy, dinner will be served shortly”

Rhaena bows and sighs as the woman leaves, turning to her sister, “Well… it was better than expected.”

Baela rolls her eyes and takes another glass of wine. Rhaena is about to scold her when the door opens again and Aemond Targaryen appears. His tall, slender figure pauses for a moment while his good eye scans the room. Rhaena can swear his gaze lingers on her for a moment before focusing on his mother, and walking straight toward Alicent.

“The kinslayer,” Baela whispers, her shoulders tense and her eyes fixed on her cousin.

“The prince and hand of the king,” she says also quietly, looking at her, “Please, Baela, let's try to enjoy this night,” Rhaena takes her hand and squeezes her fingers, “Please.”

Baela does not look away from her cousin, and for a moment Rhaena fears the worst, but in the end Baela sighs and nods.

Rhaena, feeling relieved, links their arms and walks across the room to where Marianne and Lady Stokeworth are conversing near the fireplace.

“Oh! Lady Rhaena! We were just talking about your coming wedding,” greets Diane Stokeworth when they approach them.

A nervous giggle escapes Rhaena's lips, “Oh where you?”

“I mentioned to Marianne that my lord father arrived at the Fortress a few days ago and told me that the roads next to the Royal Forest is being arranged to house the tents of the lords who will participate in the tournament and the hunt.”

“How… good to know that everything is being prepared,” she responds, trying to sound cheerful.

“My lord father will participate in the hunt. He said it will be a good opportunity to try to find deer and…”

Rhaena tunes out her conversation when a head of platinum hair catches her attention out of the corner of her eyes. Slightly changing her posture, she observes her cousin, who is no longer conversing with his mother, but with Floris Baratheon.

“What is she doing here?”

She does not realize that she has asked the question out loud until Lady Stokeworth speaks, “Who? Who are you referring to?” she asks looking around her.

"What?"

“You said, Lady Rhaena…”

“Lady Diane, please do tell us more about your lord father's last hunt,” Marianne says, “He was out with a party of his men and there were footprints.”

“Ah, yes, yes, of course…”

The young woman begins her story again, and Rhaena meets Baela's gaze, who has her eyebrows raised in her direction. Rhaena gives her a nervous smile, and drinks from her wine glass as she tries to focus on the story.

Only her attention doesn't last long, her eyes drifting helplessly to Aemond, who is now walking with Floris across the room. A bitter feeling of displeasure spreads through her chest as she notices the Baratheon girl's clear attempts at flirting, her hand teasing the beginning of her cleavage. Why is Aemond talking to her? What issues in common can they have? Rhaena already knows the answer, but still... A simple apology doesn't take long to be offered, why is her betrothed still talking to her?

The two stops near the table, and Rhaena watches Aemond cross his arms behind his back, his right foot beginning to tap the floor, clearly fed up with whatever Floris is telling him. The realization of this pleases her and somewhat calms whatever she is feeling. Floris does not give up and takes a few steps towards Aemond, closing the distance between them and placing herself at a distance that is not decent for a lady. The prince seems to realize this because he subtly steps back, lifting his face and meeting Rhaena's gaze directly.

For a couple of seconds that seem like forever they simply stare at each other, until Rhaena raises her eyebrows in his direction, an amused smile on her lips. Aemond purses his lips at her, as if he is annoyed with her for finding the situation entertaining, though a smile finally appears on his face.

Rhaena notices Floris trying to approach Aemond again, but he finally looks down at the Baratheon girl, his face no longer smiling, and says something that seems to be the end of their conversation, because he turns his back on her and walks away, walking directly towards…

Rhaena.

Her heart begins to beat wildly as Aemond advances toward her, his strides long and purposeful. Does he perhaps plan to approach them and greet them? Join their conversation? Surely not. Those questions pass through her mind in just an instant and her eyes never stray from Aemond's.

When the prince is finally near them, the conversation stops and Marianne and Lady Stokeworth bow to him, but he ignores them, his one good eye looking simply at Rhaena, the corner of his lips curled into a smile.

“Rhaena,” he just says in that low yet firm tone, nodding slightly in her direction, as if the other women beside him do not exist.

She does not return the greeting, unable to say anything when he walks so close to her that she is suddenly invaded by his particular citrus scent that causes her entire body to shiver. Rhaena can swear their hands touch again as he walks past her. Unable to do anything else, her eyes follow the prince until he stops next to Lord Lannister.

When Rhaena tilts her face and returns to focus on her companions, she realizes that the conversation has resumed, although she meets Baela's eyes, her gaze hard and her expression a cold mask of reproach.

***

The wine tastes especially sweet.

Aemond takes a few more sips from his cup as his mother toasts Baela Targaryen's arrival at the Keep.

Sitting next to her sister, at the other end of the table, Baela gives her a tense smile. Rhaena, next to her, smiles genuinely as she squeezes her twin's hand in affection.

Or to restrain her actions.

Baela Targaryen. Aemond had never thought much of her. It had been another obstacle during the war, one that her brother had taken care of by leaving her without a dragon. She was now nothing more than another noble lady of the kingdom trapped in her castle.

Still... there's something about her that he does not like.

Maybe it is the clear anger that she feels and that she cannot hide. It is evident that she despises his family, her looks at his mother and Daeron make that evident. At him, she hasn't looked directly at… yet, although Aemond knows that she probably hates him more than his mother and brother.

“I hear you are good with a crossbow, cousin,” Aemond hears his brother say.

Complacent fool, he thinks as he drinks from his cup again.

“Do you want me to show you my skills, cousin?” she replies with a snide tone on the last word, her eyes conveying a malicious gleam.

“We could train together one of these days, yes,” Daeron proposes.

“I am afraid I will have to object,” Rhaena interrupts, letting out a giggle that pretends to sound carefree, though Aemond hears the nervous tone in it, “I want to have my sister next to me as much as possible. Therefore, I am not going to share her with you, Daeron, I apologize."

Daeron smiles and Baela rolls her eyes. Rhaena's hand caresses her sister's again. The prince wonders if his betrothed had also thought that this training between her sister and Daeron could end badly for him.

“I hear that the Tyrells are close to arriving at King's Landing,” Tyland Lannister interrupts his thoughts, drawing his attention.

“That is right, Maester Orwyle received a raven announcing their arrival.”

“That means that the most important houses, except for the Starks, will be present at your wedding. We could use the opportunity.”

Aemond does not respond, simply considering his words, his gaze fixed on Rhaena. The young woman seems to feel the weight of his scrutiny, because she lifts her face toward him, though she quickly lowers her gaze in shame, her body noticeably tensing and moving toward her twin.

“Tell me, Lady Baela,” Elder Blackwood says, “Will Lord Alyn be coming to the wedding?”

“Indeed, my lady. My cousin is looking forward to probe himself in the tournament.”

"Good!"

There is a general murmur of clear enthusiasm at the mention of the stupid tournament.

“I would like to see Prince Aemond participate,” it is Floris Baratheon who speaks. Aemond refrains from rolling his eyes at her, “Though I suppose it would be unfair to the other participants for such a good swordsman to take away their chance.”

Is through compliments that she thinks she will have his attention? Aemond gives her a brief, hard look.

“The tournament is in his honor,” his mother replies, “It would not be right for my son to participate.”

“That is why I will,” Daeron says, smiling.

“Daeron…”

Her mother stops talking, sighing, her beautiful face a mask of clear concern. Aemond is tempted to reach out and comfort her, but jealousy that this concern is directed toward his brother and not him restrains him from doing so.

“I wish they would let us women participate,” Baela comments, “We would probably do a lot better than some of the novice gentlemen.”

Her suggestion is received with laughter and some tense glances. Aemond notices Rhaena, whose gaze shifts between her sister and the dinner party, clearly anxious.

Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe he shouldn't have sent for Baela. The dowager queen had been enraged upon learning of the young woman's arrival, claiming that she was a bad influence on her sister.

“She was going to come here anyway,” Aemond had said.

“With Lord Alyn,” Alicent had told him, frustrated, “An ally. A legitimized bastard who knows that he has to control his cousin or he will not have the support of the Crown."

Aemond had ignored her, but now, seeing that she had only been in the castle for a few hours and was clearly making Rhaena feel uncomfortable, he wished he had not sent the letter to Driftmark.

But she had been so happy when you agreed to call her sister.

The thought crosses his mind as quickly as he dismisses it.

It does not matter how she feels.

Rhaena can feel and do whatever she wants, he does not care. He just needs to use her, control her, know how to use her influence for his political causes. Her happiness is optional, secondary, and he does not care about her in the slightest.

Or that is what he tells himself over the next few days when his betrothed continues to avoid his gaze whenever they meet at the Fortress.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hi. This is a short one, but I don't really have much time to write these days. Sorry, I'll try to update soon~

@user05152535456 @pugetprincess @draftswriting @hopefulnovelwritingland @maymunahar @niocel @goldenjoyboyy @gracelessbeach @jenmakeusin10 @dagma18 @atargcvnt @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @ammo23 @qyburnsghost @ithoughtulikedme @avidreader73

Let me know if you want to be tagged

Thanks for reading :)

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #ao3fic #resentment #rhaena targaryen #aemond kinslayer #drama #slow burn #rhaena of pentos #eventual smut #romance #enemies to friends to lovers

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noir-fem · 6 months ago

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daisy's thoughts on *that* scene

SPOILER WARNING!! I'M ABOUT TO YAP ABOUT HOTD SEASON TWO, SPECIFICALLY BLOOD AND CHEESE!!

DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS!!!

the scene itself

obviously, the show couldn't adapt B&C verbatim without traumatizing child actors in the process, so i'm happy that certain changes were made and that the actual murder happened off screen. i still think they could have kept small details that made it so horrific in the books without hurting child actors though.

the problem is mainly within the writing because there's really no build up. there's no scenes of Helaena being loving with her kids beforehand, no slaughtering of guards or bed maids to make Blood and Cheese look scarier, nothing that builds an impending sense of dread. also B&C being confused/low key cartoonish villains didn't help. these guys are supposed to know the Red Keep's secret pathways like the back of their hand; showing how intruders could get into the keep so easily definitely would have made the scene scarier.

also making B&C into a "misunderstanding " and having Aemond be the original target completely downplays the most evil thing the Blacks ever did and further shows that the writers are unashamedly biased towards the Blacks. the main message of the story is that both sides were war criminals who did awful things!! the senseless cruelty of targeting a toddler for something he had no role in was literally the point of B&C!!

i get that maelor doesn't exist yet, but they still could have done "a son for a son" and kept Helaena being forced to choose between her kids. one person on here suggested having her point to Jaehaera in order to spare Jaehaerys (the heir to the throne), but B&C killing Jaehaerys instead. i think something like that would have kept the psychological torture of having to choose and could still have been done without scaring child actors.

overall, if the writers were trying to out-do the Red Wedding in terms of horror, it didn't work. What made the Red Wedding so terrifying in the first place was the psychological aspects of it and all the tiny clues the audience was given beforehand, the small details telling the viewers that something bad is coming.

that being said, the show's adaptation of B&C still captured the horror of a child being murdered in front of his mother without showing it/being gratuitous. they did an amazing job with just letting you hear the sounds and leaving the rest to the imagination.

in conclusion: r.i.p. sweet baby jaehaerys. daemon targaryen, your days are numbered.

Helaena's reaction (or, rather, lack thereof)

i didn't properly understand/appreciate Helaena's reaction to B&C until i saw other people's takes and rewatched the scene for myself.

at first, i would have liked to see some sort of desperation like there was in the books (like Helaena begging and offering her life). HOWEVER, book!helaena and show!helaena are obviously gonna have some differences, especially with show!Helaena being a dreamer. and with her being coded as autistic/neurodivergent, her reaction makes total sense to something that i myself would do.

say it with me: there is no "right" or "wrong" way to react to trauma!! your brain is literally just doing whatever it has to do to get you out of that situation, and that looks different for everyone. a lot of people freeze or fawn! it doesn't mean that they're "emotionless" or unaffected by what's happening!!

now looking at it, Helaena's silent shock and horror were more gut wrenching to watch than any amount of screaming or begging imo. she's probably already seen this happen in her visions and knows that there's nothing she can do to stop it: all she can do is get herself and Jaehaera out of there. her resigned facial expression, her eyes, her quiet little pleas as she's carrying Jaehaera, her literally dissociating in order to get her and her daughter out of the situation and clinging onto her baby for dear life. Phia's acting was incredible and i believe she did her best with what the writers gave her.

now lastly....

the alicole scene

why???? just WHY????

look i'm all for alicent and criston being hypocrites and alicent finally getting to experience pleasure, but having helaena walk in on her and criston RIGHT after watching her son get brutally murdered.... i don't even need to say any more about this. nobody needs to explain why that is a bad writing choice.

my opinions on the show's take on B&C will likely change depending on how they handle helaena and alicent's reactions to it later on in the series. might even dabble in writing fics and drop my own take on this storyline sometimes hehe.

in conclusion, somebody PLEASE take Helaena's pain, quadruple it, and give it to daemon NOW.

#house of the dragon #team green #helaena targaryen #pro helaena targaryen #pro helaena and her kids being safe and happy #anti blood and cheese

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xfancyuu · 2 years ago

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~ cause i can feel a real connection, a supernatural attraction. [aemond targaryen]

PART II (my blood, sweat, tears, and my cold breath, take it all away.)

as promised, here is the second part! the first part of this series contains a westerosi wedding, this fic will contain a valyrian wedding and the third part, well that's a surprise. reader is afab with she/her pronouns if requested i will write non-binary characters! i'd also love some feedback for this! i'd love some pointers on what you liked/didn't like about it! as always i tried to make reader an actual person who you could see yourself within but she's a lot more chill this chapter, only aemond and reader are in this so nobody is making a surprise guest appearance lol.

this fic contains: bolton!reader (now targaryen), valyrian wedding, valyrian wedding traditions (cutting each other so if ur squeamish to that maybe skip over that section), afab reader, no appearance indicators (except height, aemond is taller than you, reader cuts her hair due to impulsivity and frustration — your hair will be long enough to have u cut it to your shoulders), reader and aemond are both around eighteen-twenty-one (but this is some time before the war & that gossip girl thanksgiving worthy moment — the girls that get it, get it) [3,188 words]

Escaping your own wedding ceremony was easier than you had thought, the hallways were scarce with limited few dotted around. And those who were around would not stop the one-eyed prince from leaving his own ceremony with his bride.

You were thankful to Aemond, the bedding ceremony would have been humiliating, you knew your own parent's had one, and it had left your mother traumatised, thankful she had sons and only one daughter, it could minimise the generational trauma felt by that moment. You supposed in the two years of courting Aemond he had cared for you enough to refuse the outdated tradition all together.

"Will you be present tonight?" Aemond had asked you, confusing you as the two of you walked towards your chambers.

"What in the seven hells is that supposed to mean?"

"You were not mentally present during the wedding." It was a fact, he had noticed too much for you to comprehend. Would he hurt you for being such a disgrace? As though sensing your fear, he spoke, "You fret far too much, I just worry it had been something of my doing."

"Oh no..." The pause between words was present as you tried to come up with a reasoning for your actions, "It is just something I do, and I fear I never know when it is happening until it is over."

The grunt Aemond had allowed to escape him worried you, "I will be present tonight, crowds scare me and put my mind into high stress levels, but when we are together alone I enjoy my time with you."

It seems as though your explanation had fallen on deaf ears, however Aemond was simply analysing the event and your explanation. It seemed fitting that the both of you did not seem content in the world you were living in. With you escaping into your own mind while he focused his energy on fighting and learning.

The silence between the two of you was slightly uncomfortable, with you fearing you had said something wrong and your actions being ridiculous for a princess of the realm while Aemond had simply enjoyed being within your presence it hadn't taken you long to get to your chambers, however Aemond hadn't entered with you.

You were left to your own devices, as Aemond thought it fit to leave you in your current state. You knew what he was doing — going to gather all he needed, you weren't sure what it was, but you trusted him, trusted him enough to believe all he told you about the Valyrian ceremony you were about to partake in.

You felt suffocated, though, the nervousness and fear of what was to become of tonight had hit you in waves. You felt as though you could rip your hair out as you stared at the braids you'd have to spend far too much time to undo. Your ladies had spent such a long time creating such a lovely sight, you simply didn't want to take it out, but you knew you had to.

The hotness you felt within had you itching at your skin, it was already irritated and the red marks you had left hadn't affected you much. However, your hair was going to be a problem.

The knife had glinted in the candlelight, and your own temptation would not vanish, perhaps if you had cut your hair the braids would be easier to remove and would not hurt you. Long hair was the bane of your existence, and cutting your hair while sectioned into braids would be easy. Far too tempting for you to not do it. Nobody could stop you.

Before you could comprehend the knife within your grasp, you had already cut one braid to your shoulder. The freeing feeling was short-lived once you had realised what you had done. Your once long beautiful hair was now unevenly cut and to your shoulders no less. What would the people surrounding you say? That Aemond had cut it off in an act of hatred towards you?

You would certainly be the gossip surrounding the castle for many moons to come. How the prince had dragged you away, defiled you in more ways than one. You hadn't thought about your actions, instead you chose the easiest way for you to escape the confounds of tradition and suffering. It's not like you could reattach the hair either — but it would grow back to the length you had such hated for, or you could keep knives and continue cutting to your desired length.

You had contemplated cutting the dress too — the beautiful white dress your father had ensured was designed with your specifications in mind, but you couldn't. It was far too beautiful, and you were sure Aemond would help you with the removal when it came time for that section of the night. The part which made you [word] and wish for it to be over in minutes, like your mother and ladies told you it would be.

"The knife's intended purpose wasn't that." Aemond had spoke, you hadn't heard him entering while your thoughts spiralled to the mistake you'd made despite being fully conscious of your actions.

"Oh..." You didn't know how to retort, other than another "oh" with a raised octave.

"You could have waited before you decided to chop it off."

"But where's the fun in that? Do you not like surprises? You told me once you liked nice surprises, is this not a nice one?"

"It is certainly a surprise." Aemond had approached you and had taken the knife from your grasp before you could decide to cut anything else on your being. "The blade is sharp, I don't like the idea of it being so close to your neck."

"But you trust me enough to not cut you?" You had asked, not completely aware of his trauma but knowing he didn't like blades in his general direction when he was not fighting.

"Do you intend to hurt me?" Even if you did, you knew Aemond had fast reflexes and could easily detain you without much effort.

"I intend to love you, if you'd allow me." Your sincerity seeped through your words, "I know our courtship was a long one, and you may not see yourself the way I view you, but I want to show you, you're worth so much more than you give yourself credit."

You viewed him as though he put the stars in the sky, as though he was the one solely responsible for your own happiness. The prince who put duty above all else, the man who few had got to see the true self of. They hadn't seen the man who cared about your own happiness, indulging in horrific romance books with bad tropes to simply have conversations about such topics with you, the man who looked at you like you were the only person in existence when you spoke. And you had left him utterly speechless.

You had surmised that while Aemond may have been his mother's son, her clearly being his favourite and only present parent. He valued the traditions of his father's culture — you had thought as much with his claiming of Vhagar, his pride and his passion. He was truly the fire and blood you had always craved. The only person you could ever see yourself happy with, the only person who truly understood you.

The idea of a Valyrian wedding was much more fun in your mind, without speaking the language you had no idea what to expect, yes you had studied the language, but it was very different from speaking a language you weren't fluent in. Aemond was insistent and you could not deny him. Assimilating yourself into his culture would be an honour, having his children would be an honour, but with honour comes learning, and it was something you enjoyed. But less than a year was not nearly enough time to learn an entire language, and the nuances that came with said culture and language.

"There would usually be a Septon to bless us, though I think it would be fitting for the two of us to be together and join as one."

"How scandalous." You joked, hoping to ease some of the tension you felt within yourself. "You aren't withholding any other key information about this ceremony, are you? You do not need a dragon to breathe fire on us?"

"Unless you have a death wish, it is not advised." He enjoyed this feeling, being so free with one another, with only the spectators being yourselves and your desires.

"Next you'll be telling me you're not fireproof."

"I live to be a disappointment, princess."

"You could never disappoint me unless you withhold cake from me."

"Cake is your only weakness?"

"The only one I'll tell you about, I need to have a few secrets up my sleeve to surprise you with in ten years."

"You have already revealed far too much."

"Then I suppose I must stop speaking, for I am no longer a mystery, and you shan't be interested any more." Aemond had laughed as you continued your melodrama.

"This is what you want?" Aemond had asked, his sudden mood change had almost given you whiplash.

"I wouldn't have committed myself to you fully if it wasn't what I had wanted."

"I just wanted to be sure before we started the process." You were not sure where Aemond's insecurity had come from. The two of you had spent so much time together, albeit chaperoned by your brother. "I wanted to make sure before I truly reveal myself to you."

"There is nothing you could do which would make me want you less." You were not sure where your sentimentality had come from, "Would you like me to help you? With your eyepatch — that is." You had never brought up the eyepatch. It had made no difference to you. Rumours had circulated about why he wore it — you did not want to listen to them. Some had said there was a pitch-black hole where his eye had meant to be, others said it was decayed and rotted. You were not sure what was to believed, but you knew it would not change your feelings.

"I can manage just fine." The response was more hostile than you were expecting.

"I would like to help you, as your wife it is important to me that you do not suffer nor hide yourself from me." Aemond had not retorted as you moved to help him. You were not sure what you were expecting, but the sapphire was certainly not it. "You are beautiful." You spoke as you took in his appearance, wishing he would feel comfortable being his authentic self, "Never hide yourself away from me." It had been a demand. You wanted Aemond to see himself the way you saw him, beautiful and otherworldly. You knew the Targaryen genes were strong within him, but you had not expected him to be this beautiful.

"You do not need to lie."

"You doubt my words? I would like to know who hurt you and to hurt them in exchange, I want them to feel the pain you have felt, I want to set them ablaze, I want them to suffer. I will flay them if you ask me to, I would make it slow and painful."

"You speak treasonous words, wife." You had put the pieces together from that alone, one of Rhaenyra's son's — most likely Lucerys had hurt your husband. You had wondered why justice hadn't prevailed. Your father would have had your brother's manhood if he had hurt you, yet your husband was not fated with such luck, despite his own father being the King who could have easily sought justice. "It is long past now, I do not wish to think about it nor speak about it."

You thought it best to drop the issue. Irritating your husband was not your intention — especially on your wedding night. You hadn't wanted him to think about such things when you were meant to be happy. "Shall we get on with it, then?"

At your insistence, Aemond had placed the knife on the dresser along with the chalice he was holding — containing a substance you had no knowledge of.

The two of you were close, closer than you were comfortable with, Aemond may be your husband, but proximity and intimacy was not something you were accustomed to. Perhaps it would come with being a married couple — or perhaps it would come tonight when you would no longer be a maiden.

The blade did not sting as much as you expected, as Aemond had brought the blade to your lip, perhaps it was the anticipation of assimilating into his culture he treasured so dearly. Perhaps it was the idea of being a respected Targaryen Princess who followed the traditions of ancestors you did not have. Would your Northern ancestors be ashamed that you so willingly allowed your husband to maim you? To take your own culture from you and thrust his own upon you? You did not have time to think of that as Aemond had cut the palm of your hand, it had brought a gasp from your lips. That had been the painful part, though he soon let go of your hand to maim his own skin.

The blood had dripped freely from your hand onto the pristine white dress you had loved so much. The red had stained the pure white colour, perhaps it was an omen for what was to come. Aemond tainting everything with his love for you, placing you on such a high pedestal that he believed you could do no wrong. Willing to start wars to ensure your safety and happiness. He truly loved you even if he struggled to say the words out loud and in front of an audience. Aemond had always been reserved, believing it to be for the best. His own feelings had never meant more than those around him, his love for you had a toxic hold grasp on his being, so willing to do heinous acts to ensure you stayed pure to the chaos going on around you. But you were not that type of girl, you thrived on chaos, on the unknown and were more than willing to be the chaos that spread Aemond's passion and fire.

Aemond's own cut hand had held yours, aligning the cuts together as to mix your blood, to make you one. Both of your blood had seeped into the dress, there was a taste of iron in your mouth — your blood, both your and Aemond's blood, mixed as one whole being. You were his as he was yours.

"Ñuha ānogar, nager, qūvy, se ñuha iōrves jelevre, gūrogon ziry mirre qrīdrughagon. Bisa bantis īlon siñagon hae mēre, īlon kessa dōrī part. Iksā se ōños bona sīmontan arlī isse ñuha ābrar. Iksā se cause hen ñuha biarves."

You had picked up on a few words Aemond had spoken, but most had left you clueless, you were ashamed you had not taken studying Valyrian seriously when it was presented to you. You could not express in words how you felt about him, how you would burn the world down for him, instead you spoke what little Valyrian you knew, "Avy jorrāelan."

"Avy jorrāelan," Aemond's response was almost immediate, the hand which was not holding yours quickly moved to the chalice he had brought in, bring it to your lips and you took it as a sign you needed to drink. The liquid was bitter, almost gag worthy but went down smoothly. You did not want to know what was inside as it warmed your throat. You had looked at Aemond as he too drank the liquid, though his own reaction was not as evident as your own.

It was your turn to lead the ceremony you had thought, all ceremonies end with a kiss yet yours had not happened yet. It was a split second decision, bringing Aemond to your own height, he had towered over you naturally but you doubted he would complain as you sealed your ceremony with a kiss. This one had felt more intense than your first ceremony. You would not be satisfied with a simply peck as though you were children.

You were lovestruck as your mouth's joined. You were one, you would continue being one until the end of your days, you had not known what to truly expect. Aemond was a wild card. But so were you. It was slow to begin with, the taste of both blood and what the liquid contained mixed within your mouth. You couldn't taste the wine consumed earlier in the night nor did you truly care. It was unbecoming of a lady as your tongue entered Aemond's mouth. You had heard from ladies both in court and workers of the palace that they had placated their husband's needs, but you had needs yourself — you felt yourself tingling as though you were on fire. You wanted more, no you needed more.

Aemond had pulled away from you, looking as dishevelled as you had felt. "We need to stop before I do something I regret."

"And what is that?"

"Please let me help you get undressed first, I do not want you to feel pressured to act a certain way around me and I fear you will feel far too much pain if we continue."

The meshing of two cultures so different, with such different beliefs didn't seem possible, but to you, it just seemed right. Your white dress sparkled like the stars in certain lighting — your father made sure he spared no expense, for his only daughter had stained red with your union. The blood had seeped into the fabric and turned a murky red-brown colour, which you could not salvage, but you did not care. The Valyrian traditions so strange, so otherworldly to you were something which you now partook in. The Godswood you had prayed to did not cross your mind, instead you thought to the gods of old Valyria, how the once prosperous city had crumbled and how you would not allow your own marriage to do so. Compromise was needed, and you would more than compromise for Aemond, to feel his touch upon you, to feel his warmth.

However, it felt good, it felt good to finally be as one, to have each other, to finally feel wanted. The corset was slowly becoming looser as Aemond's not so skilled hands helped you out of the dress. You had not once felt insecure in his presence but being so bare before your husband had left you feeling a certain way. Never once had you been before a man and you were scared. Scared you'd feel judged, scared that you would not be enough for him.

"We don't need to..." Aemond hadn't found the right words yet but you knew what his intention was.

"Do you not want to?"

"I want you, badly. I fear you are not ready yet, and I would not like to put you in the position where you could come to resent me."

"I doubt I could ever resent you... But I would like to take it slowly, to see where the night leads us, if we do or... do not, it is our decision and nobody shall take it away from us."

so i didn't actually use the vows in the show but i feel like pledging yourself and your own words instead of a priest works out well? i also researched this a bit and apparently you don't actually need a priest? just somebody who knows how to do the ceremony. i also used a valyrian translator so if anything in the language feels... off please tell me. thank u for reading this fic! again feedback would be appreciated but u don't need to give it, the next instalment will be posted in exactly a week (wed, 15th)! cross posted on ao3 under the name hedonism! this fic was reformatted on 7th april 2023

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #so my friend calls this the dragon thingy which consumed my time so i wont write with him #hes so rude and mean calling this the dragon thingy #when my friend reads this series im going into hiding bc i love her but i fear judgement lmao

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dreamfyre03 · 9 months ago

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A Dragon's Love

Warnings: violence, threats of violence, mentions of kidnapping

Dividers by: @zaldritzosrose

Header by: @zaldritzosrose

Chapter 14: The Wrath of Aemond Targaryen

After returning to King’s Landing, and informing the council of Lucerys’s death, he wanted nothing more than to be in Daenys’s arms. He longed to inhale her scent of jasmine and lilies, to hear her soft voice comfort him, after being screamed at by his mother, and yelled at by his grandfather. Thanks to him, the first strike of war had been landed. The greens made the first move.

He took the tunnels to her rooms, and when he entered, he stood there briefly, stunned. Her dresses, her books, her parchments and perfumes, all gone. Nothing of hers was left, except the lingering scent of her in the sheets. With a rage he was becoming more familiar with every passing second, he stormed the council room for the second time that day, jolting them all in surprise, and asked darkly, “Where is she?”

Aegon looked at him confused, while his mother and grandfather exchanged a look. “Where is she?” He yelled, slamming his fists onto the table, as his eye darkened with anger.

“Where is who?” Aegon asked, genuinely puzzled. “Our sister.” He spat, and Aegon sat up in concern. “She isn’t here?” Aegon paled as he said the words, no doubt thinking the worse.

His grandsire rose, and said, “She is safe. She is off acting on behalf of the crown.” Aegon stood, his face serious. “How can she be acting on behalf of the crown? I certainly haven’t sent her anywhere.” He said to the Hand. “Where is my sister, Lord Hand?” Aegon asked again.

“Clear the room.” Aemond addressed the council. They hesitated, glancing back at Otto, then Aemond. “You heard my brother. Clear the fucking room.” Aegon said harshly, his gaze never leaving their grandfather. The men of the council scrambled out of the room, leaving the brothers alone with their mother and grandsire.

“Tell me where she is. Now.” Aemond drew his sword, much to the horror of his mother. “Aemond, please!” She cried out, looking to Aegon desperately, but he ignored her. “She’s on her way North. To wed Cregan Stark.” His grandsire finally said.

Aemond felt his blood run like fire. No, no, he wouldn’t let this happen. She was his, no one else’s

“You grant yourself the power to decide my sister’s marriage without so much as my input? She is sister to the King, and you do not even deem it necessary to inform me of my sister’s departure?” Aegon shouted angrily.

Aemond stood there, in silent rage, his mother watching him fearfully, no doubt praying for her father’s life. Good. She should be. “Your sister knew what she had to do. We need the north’s support, she will do her part to get it for us. I made her understand this, and she is willing to do her duty. As we all must.” His grandsire said stiffly. “Your forget which of us sits the throne, and wears the conqueror’s crown. Get out.” Aegon said lowly. His mother and grandfather looked at him, no doubt in shock to see him actually act like a King for the first time since he was crowned. “Both of you. Get out!” He yelled.

They both walked out briskly, and when the brothers were alone, Aemond said, “I won’t let her marry Cregan Stark.” “I know.”

“Someone else must have known she was leaving.” Aemond mused. They both seemingly thought the same thing, and quickly made their way to Helaena’s rooms.

As they burst through the doors, they saw Daeron, who just arrived, sitting with her, as they talked and played with the children. “Did you know?” Aemond cut them off. Helaena shook her head. “My maid gave me this letter the moment you were spotted returning on Vhagar. It is for me, Aegon and Daeron. This one is for you.” She handed him a letter, where he recognised his sister’s familiar cursive scrawl.

His heart pounded as he opened it, and Aegon sat with their sister to read the other letter. My love,

By the time you read this, I will be on the roads to Winterfell. I want to apologise, for leaving without saying goodbye. I was ordered by your grandsire to not tell any of you, I sense he knew our closeness would prompt unwanted resistance, and he wanted me to leave and secure the North’s support through a marriage alliance as soon as possible. As much as it pains me to admit, he is right. Aegon needs as much support as he can get from the noble houses. I have spent the days since his coronation flooded with nothing but worry and fear for all our lives, helpless to do anything. Do not for a moment think that my leaving has to do with the feelings in my heart changing. This couldn’t be further from the truth. You spoke the truth, brother, when you said the gods made us to burn for each other, together. I realise that now. But I cannot bear the thought that me forsaking my duty means a greater chance of losing our family. Although I am to be Lord Stark’s wife, my heart, my soul, my desires, are forever yours. I pray that the passage of time allows you to forgive me, so that when we meet again, you hold no ill will against me for leaving. I would rather us be apart, but know you are alive, than watch you die knowing I could have prevented it. My darling brother, my love, my dragon. We will meet again soon.

-Your beloved sister,

Daenys.

Aemond let out an angry shout as he punched the wall, making his niece and nephews jump in fear. He didn’t even hear Helaena instruct her maid Diana to take them out to the gardens. Aegon sat across from Daeron and Helaena, the conqueror’s crown off his head, and on the table between them. “What did yours say?” He asked them. “That she’s sorry she left without goodbye, that she loves us all, and is doing her duty to make sure Aegon’s claim is stronger against Rhaenyra. To keep us safe.” Daeron answered quietly, as Aegon seemed to be staring into space.

“She’s always been looking out for all of us. Our whole lives.” Aegon said suddenly, breaking the silence that had descended upon them.

None of them responded. The truth hung over them all as they realised that she was gone, off to marry to try and keep them safe, something she had tried to do all her life. While their grandsire used them as pawns, and their mother often followed his stead, she was there, since they were children, at for every injury in the training yard, every argument, every flight atop their dragons, always with her kind smile and loving heart, even when some of them didn’t deserve it. He remembered when Daeron was first sent to Oldtown, how his little brother cried, and Daenys soothed him, promising to write to him as often as they both could, for just because he would be somewhere else didn’t mean she would forget him. And she never did, writing to him all the time.

Helaena sniffled, crying silently at the reality of their sister being gone all the way North, not knowing when they would see her again, knowing they wouldn’t see her smile everyday, or hear her laugh, watch her fly Meraxa, or play with the children.

Daeron wrapped his arm around their sister, quietly soothing her, and Aemond heard Aegon say, “I couldn’t give a shit about the North’s support. She doesn’t want to marry Stark. Her place is here, and that is where she must stay.” “I’m going to get her back. I won’t entertain this for another moment.” Aemond said, and as he was about to leave and go to mount Vhagar, their mother entered, with a seemingly battered and bruised Ser Arryk.

“Something’s happened.” She said quietly, unable to look at them. Aemond felt his heart clench.

Ser Arryk looked between Aegon and Aemond nervously, as Aegon instructed the man, “Speak.” “My King, I was with the guards escorting the Princess Daenys to Winterfell. We were ambushed, and I was knocked unconscious. When I came to, the Princess was gone.” He revealed.

Aemond drew his dagger, and had the man backed into the wall, his dagger pressing against his throat in a flash. “You mean to tell me, the Princess was kidnapped? Under your watch?” Aemond growled, pressing the knife in deeper, feelings great satisfaction when he saw blood begin to seep through. “Aemond!” His mother shouted, pulling him off the knight.

“This is all your fault!” Aegon shouted angrily at her. “You sent her away, without even telling your King, and now, my sister might be dead, or gods know what else!” He continued.

“Leave, mother. Aegon and I will decide what to do from this point on. If our grandsire so much as lifts a finger, I will cut it off myself.” Aemond warned her. She nodded, and quickly left the room with Ser Arryk behind her.

The siblings were left alone again, nothing but the sound of Helaena’s sobs muffled as she wept on Daeron’s chest filled the room. “I will find her.” Aemond vowed.

As he spoke, the siblings heard Meraxa screeching and roaring out painfully into the sky. “I will rain down Fire and Blood on every man, woman and child in this Kingdom, but I will find her. And whoever took her from me will know my wrath.”

Daenys awoke with a pounding sensation in her head, and she groaned as she sat up in the bed. As her eyes opened, she took in her new unfamiliar surroundings, the walls grey and carved of stone, with rich tapestries adorning the wall. She could hear the waves crashing into rocks outside, so she knew she couldn’t be in Winterfell. Her dress was slightly torn, and she looked in the mirror, and saw bruises on her chest and a cut on her forehead. Where was she? She went to the door, and tried to open it, but it was locked, and she banged on it with her fists, shouting at her unknown captor to let her out. There was no response, and after shouting and screaming for what felt like hours, she gave up, with nothing to show for her efforts but a hoarse throat. She ran over to the window, and saw the ocean stretching out into the distance, and black, sharp, jagged rocks on the ground below her. The door opened, and she turned around to face her captor. “Rhaenyra?” She gasped. “Sister.” Was her cold response. Her sister seemed to have aged rapidly in the days since she last saw her. Her eyes bore dark circles, her eyes red, her skin dull and tired. She wore their father’s crown. “What am I doing here? Where am I?” She asked. “You are on Dragonstone. You are here, because you are a traitor to the crown.” She answered. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about your plot to wed Cregan Stark on behalf of our traitorous brother, and win the North’s alliance?” “Sister, please understand-“ “No!” Rhaenyra shouted, angry tears brimming her eyes. “Any kindness and understanding I might have extended to you for our father’s sake died when you stood by our half brother’s side when he stole my crown. They killed my baby, then they took my son!” She yelled, and Daenys just realised the bump of Rhaenyra’s belly had disappeared, and tears filled her own eyes as well. “I’m so sorry, Rhaenyra-“ She began but her sister wouldn’t hear it. “I don’t want your apologises. They took my daughter, then my son. Aegon will pay for this, they all will.” “Your son?” Her mind immediately went to Jace.

Her sister laughed almost manically. “Oh have you not heard? The brother you love so, who dotes upon your every word for all to see, he and his dragon killed my son in the skies above Storm’s End. My son, my Luke,” Her sister wiped away her tears, willing herself not to cry. Daenys approached her carefully, and said as she too wept, “I am sorry for your loss, sister.”

Rhaenyra looked at her with angry eyes, as if stunned at her words, then raised her hand and slapped her, and Daenys felt the stinging sensation as she heard the sound echo throughout the room. “You do not get to mourn him. Or cry for him. You love our traitorous brothers so much, perhaps I’ll send your head back to them. Either way, get comfortable, sister. You aren’t going anywhere.” Rhaenyra said cruelly as she got up and shut the door behind her.

Leaving Daenys alone, with nothing but the pain in her heart and the bruises on her body.

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