#Feast of Dragons AU

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 250

So blame it on me making food-themed dragons, and failing to draw a full-body of the Ennead in the Class Pulls a Tiamat Aus. So Why not combine them- along with a hint of Ghosts are Dragons. 

See, most, if not every, person in Amity Park, and even it’s surrounding areas, know better than to use the W word. It is borderline taboo to use the ‘wish’ word. But somebody got drunk, said a thing they shouldn’t have, and now there’s a bit of an issue. 

Which honestly, they could have dealt with! Easily even! If not for the fact that erm, realms beings can get summoned. Meaning Desiree is well, gone. Gone long enough for the twenty-four hour mark to pass. And they can’t exactly punish a ghost for doing what’s in their nature and part of their very Core. 

So. 

It seems everyone is food themed now. Every ghost and liminal- though at least Amity was already weird and pretty hidden from the Outside nowadays- and even a few undead. 

Honestly, Fright Knight should not look so terrifying with his new coloration and criss-cross patterns across his back. But well, he pulls it off, burnt-looking limbs and all. (Seriously, his flames look more like whip-cream now and he’s still somehow pulling it off- Dash wants to know his secret! 

At least the nine of them haven’t gotten it too bad, probably. And Lunch Lady is pleased, so there’s that, but still. Jazz looks like a dragon sushi roll for Realm’s sake, and- okay that’s kind of funny. Vlad you can’t hide your new fruit-based appearance! 

Hah!

Oh Realms there’ll need to be so much paperwork for th- Oh thank fuck someone is summoning them now. Alright, showtime! Time to be Heir of the Infinite, big scary nine headed dragon! Ignore the food-theme-ish guys! 

[virenkinnie]

what’s up guys i’m back at it with another epic awesome au!! on todays menu we have an au i literally forgot about for 2 years until today 👅👅

it’s a “what-if” type of thing where callum leaves without a word to study magic instead of rayla leaving to find viren, and rayla and ezran kinda tweak out and spend those two years looking for him. very fun! i will make an actual storyline soon but for now i’m just fucking around with some silly doodles

[ariesdiary]

lucerys hopes the new king never finds out his secret.

long before the dance of dragons ended in ashes and aemond took the iron throne, they shared a bed once. it was the only night full of hatred and passion, as a result of which lucerys carried a child. his family did everything to keep the bastard’s birth secret, so little aegon became daemon’s and rhaenyra’s son in the eyes of the court.

aemond also thinks aegon is luke’s brother, which is why he manipulates his nephew, promising to get rid of kid if luke won’t become his husband, oby him and give birth to heirs.

lucerys is afraid for his son’s life, who does not even know who he really is. it breaks his heart, but on the other hand, aegon’s safe, he’s far from political games and king’s hatred. so luke tries to be quiet and obedient, but one day he fails. he publicly insults aemond.

the king doesn’t forgive this, he reminds luke of the promise. the threat sobers lucerys. he asks for forgiveness, begs uncle not to do this, forgetting about pride, desperately grabs his clothes. they come in the nursery, where jaehaera and maelor cry and aegon screams in fear, bursting into tears as he sees the guard approaches him.

lucerys can no longer keep his secret. “aegon is your blood and flesh. he is our son.”

aemond's world stops and shrinks on aegon's tear-stained face with similar features.

this au’s inspired by @peakybinderss writing

[cthaehart]

More of the golden curse AU

[vryfmi]

big sketch and whatnot dump of DH×WH skullyle AU by @lucky-ass-nerd

might render them or not

Lucy, don't give him ideas, especially bad ones

[part II] [part III]

[the-heartlines]

| rhaenicent | jennifer's body au | 

"you're killing people.  no, i'm killing boys."

[myladysapphire]

Solace

As the daughter of Alicent Hightower you had been fed stories of your older sister and her children, so when you are bethrothed to Jacaerys you arent too sure as to what to expect, and go into your courtship expecting the worse, only to find out you couldn't have been more wrong.

word count: 5,908

CW: MDI 18+, smut, fluff. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), incest not beta read!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

a/n - no war au

Masterlist

She had been betrothed to Prince Jacearys since they were both children, before most noble children even knew the expectation of one day getting married off and yet since the day of said betrothal, they had not spent a single moment together. Nor had you exchanged a single letter nor a single thought of the other, at least she had not. 

In all honesty she had simply lived as if he and their impending marriage did not exist, so when he returned for his brother's hearing and for their courtship to officially begin, they were at a complete loss of where to begin, they knew of no common interests, and there family’s had been pitted against each other their entire lives.  Seeing as they had never been close in their youth, nor present much time together, seeing as she had kept to herself or Heleana, and Jacearys having spent most of his time with his brother and hers.

She had always preferred solitude, preferred to keep to her books, painting, and her beloved dragon Gaelithox. Gaelithox perhaps the only being she would spend day after day with willingly. 

she had hoped he would be similar. Though from what she could remember, he always seemed to find himself surrounded by others, not once does she remember seeing him alone. Perhaps if she had then she would have gotten to know him. But for her crowds were her worst fear, talking to more than one person or anyone was really. But Jacearys was always the centre of attention, with his good looks and charisma, it seemed he never begged for attention, it just always simply found him. She hoped marrying him would not force her to become the same.

How they expected her to one day be queen confused her. With Jacearys as the future king she would have all these responsibilities and have to do everything she hated. Her mother had made sure to tell her that, to start to show her what would be expected of her.

For all she knew it was a scare tactic from her mother, y/n knew her mother hated them, she would call them bastards and would whisper in her ear more and more rumours about her eldest sister and her eldest son. 

So, when he arrived all she could do was watch him. Scared to start a conversation, and too nervous to make any moves towards him. So she stood from the sidelines as he found himself surrounded by the keeps inhabitants. 

As she watched him at dinner, following lucerys victory of being declared the future lord of the tides, she very much doubted he would like solitude as much as she did. The few moments where he found himself not in conversation, he almost seemed nervous. She feared he would never understand her fear of crowds, or her hate for balls and feasts. Nor understand what her mother referred to as her quirks. He was loud and charismatic, all traits she lacked. He was drawn to crowds and seemed to thrive at the events she hated. But he seemed to suffer in the moments she loved the moments alone, the quiet moments.

She had been forced to sit away from her usual seat and sit nearer to the centre, a place where all eyes were on her. She sat opposite her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, with Jacearys on one side, and Aegon on the other. 

Aegon had been making crude jokes all evening, whispering and taunting her. Though she had become extremely talented at ignoring him, it was starting to bug her, and all she wished was to retire to bed. 

Luckily, he seemed to be the only one interested in her, until Rhaenyra decided to start a conversation with her. She had never really known her eldest sister, having always been stopped by her mother. She remembered when her and Rhaenyra would have bi-weekly garden tea, until her mother found out and banned her from even going near Rhaenrya chambers.

Over the years her mother had told her only the worst about Rhaenyra, and forced her own hatred or mayhap envy of her onto y/n. And yet she only ever seemed to be kind to her when they did interact. 

“Sister?” y/n heard her call out.

“Yes princess?” she responded, stuttering from being addressed. 

“Are you quite alright, you look quite pale?” her face was concerned, as did Jaceaerys when he turned from his seat to face ger at his mother’s words.

“i-“ you looked down starting to pull at the skin on your fingers, “i do not find i fit in well in such gatherings, it's just stress” she spoke, voice shaking as y/n looked down and bringing her fingers to her mouth biting the skin around them.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?” She heard Jacearys ask in concern. 

At this her mother’s attention was captured, as she snapped her head around, ending her conversation with her grandsire, in doing so capturing the whole tables attention “what’s wrong dearests?”

“i- i would like to retire mother?” y/n almost begged, desperate for the offered reprieve.

“of course Aem-“her mother began, before being interrupted, clearly offering Aemond to escort her to her chambers. 

“I shall escort her,” Jacearys interrupted, standing from his seat and offering his hand that

she took it nervously.  These were the most words either had spoken for each other, at least that she could remember. 

Walking down the halls of the keep, she found herself in a comfortable silence.  Though Jacearys seemed to find it rather uncomfortable as he began to ramble on about gods knows what.

“so i told Luke -“

She hummed, responding to a question she probably heard minutes ago, she hated to admit it but she was seriously struggling to follow whatever he was talking about. The topic of which changed near every second. 

He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to be pulled back as their arms were still interlinked. He seemed to finally realise he was talking nonsense and had lost her completely “I’m sorry, I’ve been rambling on and you can’t even follow a word of what i was saying i-“ 

“oh no i- i, well yes, but I believe you are just nervous… as am il” y/n spoke softly. 

He nodded, “your right, i- i have been trying to think of anything i know about you, any shared memories and yet i can not find a single thing” he shook his head, seemingly ashamed.

“oh well… we never really talked until today, i always much preferred my own company to that of others”

“oh i- really?” he sounded confused as if spending time by himself was beyond him.

“i always found i was always more myself when with others, in fact i find myself nervous when I am alone '' he spoke, slowly making sure not to ramble on once more.

“I suppose I have never found such solace with another person as to feel myself with another person” you looked down, she too seemed so polar to one another and feared her solitude would always be interrupted once she married him. 

“I understand that, Luke is the same way” he looked at her then, “i hope that i can be the person you find solace in, one day..” he took her hands, stoking them softly, it was always a hard thing for her, touch. Always avoiding it, and only taking hugs to shaking someone’s hand when she knew social construct dictated she should. And yet with him it was fine it seemed nice almost, something she could get used to, even find solace in.

“I would like that”  she nodded, and he gave her a sweet smile, relief almost washing over his face. He took her arm once more and led her back to her chambers, this time instead of rambling, he simply asked her questions about herself, and for once she happily answered them.

The next day she was awoken to the sound of rapped knocks on her door. Though she normally slept in, it was still rather early for such a thing. Opening the door she saw Jacaerys standing with a bouquet of flowers, more specifically peonies, a flower that you would often find embroidered on several of her dresses. 

“Prince-“

”Jace” he interrupted “ please call me Jace, we are to be a married soon it is only right” 

“Jace” she said slowly, getting used to the informality she lacked with even her own family , “what are you doing here so early?” 

“Early?” he laughed, as if if the idea that nine in the morning could ever be considered early,  “i suppose it could be”

”Why are you here?” She asked, almost irritated.

“Sorry,” he spoke, reaching his arm out to present her with the peonies'' i simply came to ask if we may break our fast, with the hope you had yet to eat and yet it seems i woke you,” he shook his head “i apologise, i am used to waking up early for training. I should have thought you may have preferred to sleep in” he looked down nervously.

Sniffing the flowers, she moved into her room, leaving the door agar as an invitation for Jace to come in. ”I would like that” she nodded, “Though this is still rather early for me, so i shall need to call my maids to help me dress and prepare our breakfast”

”early?” He again asked, “what time do you normally wake?”

”Mostly before noon, but not before 10,” you looked up with a small smile, “i find i can sleep the days away if allowed, it is one of the few things i can never seem to get enough off”

He laughed, the nerves leaving him slightly. “I find i am always awake by eight, at the latest, sadly i do not possess the same skill to sleep in, a skill i am much jealous of.” He smiled, “ i shall have the guards fetch your maids and order breakfast, and perhaps tomorrow we may share lunch instead” 

“I would like that,” she nodded.

Their fast was spent with the exchange of shy smiles and timid questions asked, as time went on  they grew more comfortable and found their rhythm, and she found the tiredness she felt from talking to others never came. 

The next moon was perfect, each day she would wake, dress, then Jace would meet her and she broke her fast and he took his second meal. Then they would walk the gardens. After a few days, she confessed how typically she would ride Gaelithox the second she awoke, and soon they found they were going for dragon rides every morning. Vermax and Gaelithox enjoying each other's company. Every second was filled with chatter, and those few that were not, neither felt any awkwardness, just contentment, solace.

They seemed to spend almost every second of every day with each other and yet she not once found it tiring, or wished for a reprieve, she simply wished for more.

There were even days where she wished for no talking and Jace was more than happy to spend the whole day in silence, simply enjoying each other's company, as they went about their own tasks.

She felt as if she was learning everything there was to know about him, through his stories she felt as if she knew his brothers, his family, like she had grown up with them , and not just watching them. She learnt his quirks and he learnt hers. And every day they seemed to learn something new. 

But today was the first day she would spend without him since his arrival, with her father , the king, asking for Jace to accompany the small council meetings from now on. 

So she had planned to spend the day alone, resuming her old daily routine even on the days where Jace was not in her company. 

That was until her mother decided to skip the small council meeting and spend the day with her.

”Do not ever trust them, dearest” her mother tutted, brushing through her hair. “They only wish for you and he to grow close so when the time comes you are on their side-“

She had tried to tune her out, but the instant comments answered messing with her head. She felt as if she was falling in love with Jace and yet they way her mother spoke of him, it was as if he was worse than Aegon, a fact she knew was not true.

“mother!” she finally  snapped , shaking her head she pulled away from her mother, “i do not care! Jace shall be my husband and as you have reminded me since the day I first bleed, that my duty is to my husband and his family before my own.” she then whispered to herself “a fact you do not follow yourself” continuing she said “ so why now when it is the son of the woman you despise, am I to do the opposite?” It was so out of character for her and yet years and years of hearing the words bastard and betrayal and whispers of war, she was finished. 

She fully pulled away from her mother and stood up, straightening her dress, “this past moon i have felt more seen and known by Jace than anyone my whole life. My whole life I have detested company, and chatter, and have at any and all attempts avoided events. and now i find the one person i do not detest, and would falsely attend any event he wishes me to, someone i enjoy spending time with, my future husband! You wish to ruin it for me! Do you not want me to be happy?” She nearly yelled, her face turning from the sweet, shy and docile face it had always been had turned angry “you clearly do not wish for Heleana to have happiness, as clear with her marriage to Aegon at three and ten!” She was steaming, years of biting her younger so as to not gain attention, or do more talking that’s necessary, bitterness flowed through her.

”dearest i-“ her mother started, moving towards and reaching for her to pull her in a hug, only to be met by an instant rejection.

”I simply wish for whatever war you are making up in your head to end, so you can finally allow me the happiness I deserve!” And with that she walked about, only to be met with Jace and Rhaenyra's face as she walked out. 

Jace chased after her, leaving his mother left to deal with Alicent.

”y/n” he called out, “y/n stop!”

“No, I can't,” she said as she continued down the halls, though she did slow down, allowing Jace a chance to catch up with her. “if i stop walking I’ll march right back in there and apologies!” she proclaimed.

“I'm sure you won't, you did the right thing '' Jace spoke, still trying to catch up with her.

“i have bite my tongue my whole life, never expressing my thoughts or opinions, and today i did!” she spoke, as she realised she was walking towards Jace’s chambers. She didn’t even think of where she was going, having stormed out of her own rooms, it seemed that in this past month his room had become a comfort to her.

Finally catching up in time to open the door to his rooms. “y/n you don’t have to explain, you didn’t do anything, you just spoke up for yourself and…for me” y/n swear she saw him blush.

“i know it was hard for you, that talking and expressing yourself is something your struggle with…but you stood up for yourself it’s nothing you have to feel bad about it’s something you should be proud of” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips “and in all honestly  i was rather impressed”

“you where?” she blushed, stepping one closer. 

he nodded, “ you know me and my mother were coming to your chambers to discuss the wedding” he said wrapping his arm around her waist. a movement and touch she had now grown to love. “ We are to be married in a fortnight” his face moved closer to her.

“We are?” she questioned, her breathing getting heavier. 

he nodded, there faces so close they were sharing their breaths “yes, soon you will be my wife, and i your husband and your mothers silly little rants will have no sway any longer” 

she gasped, he leant forward and finally kissed her, it was soft and sweet, leaving them both a blushing mess. 

The next two weeks moved slowly, filled with wedding planning. 

Her relationship with her mother was strained, finding most of the planning to be with her eldest sister Rhaenrya and even Heleana more so than her own mother. And the few times she was there she simply sent a glare in their direction and took at every laugh and smile.

She found that she rather enjoyed her sister's company, the two having a few similar interests. Rhaenyra seemed kind and cared for her children a great deal and as a result she did with her too. 

She knew her mother cared, but watching her mother interact with Rhaenyra highlighted that most of her mothers objections were actually ones of jealousy. She was Jealous of Rhaenyra and more so of Daemon, as he received more glares the more he and Rhaenrya showed affection to one another. So much jealousy that she swear she saw some longing in her gaze whenever she stared at Rhaenrya.

The day before her wedding she finally found herself alone with her mother though from the way her mother barged into her room she knew the conversation the pair were about to have would not be a pleasant one.

“sit down dearest” she spoke as she herself got comfortable.  Doing as her mother bid, she sat beside her. Her mother quickly took her hand in hers, tight enough that even if she were to recoil it would not break her free. 

“When I had this. Conversation with your sister, she already knew some of what was to come, with her Marrying Aegon, and will he loved to taunt her with the gory details for moons before their wedding” Alicent took a deep breath. “On the morrow you will be wed, and with that shall come some expectations” 

she nodded, not quite sure what her mother meant. “not only will you be taking on some of my duties but there is also the expectation of an heir…” she looked at her then, expecting her to interrupt in some way. She stayed quiet, she knew she would have to have children but how the act itself was done was peculiar to her.

Her mother shifted uncomfortably, “once you are wed the marriage must be consummated” she awkwardly grabbed at her hands, “it will be uncomfortable but some pleasure can be found in the act” she sent her mother peculiar look, causing her mother to cough uncomfortably and once again move to explain “your husband will…insert himself in you, and spill his seed, allowing a babe to be made, though it can take some time so i shall prey you are lucky and conceive soon…”

she looked down quietly “mother “she spoke slowly, “Aegon is my brother, though he and i aren’t close i have…walked in on him numerous times, time enough to know what sex is” 

Her mother was shocked, looking down and shaking her head, “your brother has no shame-“

“mother, i also have a septa who taught me” she laughed, Heleana only did not know because she was young mother, i am aware, in fact me and-“ she cut herself off not wanting her mother to become more shocked at hearing how her and Jace have already talked of the wedding night.

They were both inexperienced, though Jace had been taken to brothels by Daemon he had never actually done anything, wanting to save himself for his wife. A fact she was most happy about. 

She loved Jace, she realised. He was everything she did not expect, though he was chatty and loud, he was also kind and sweet, a perfect gentleman. She and him had more in common than not, they both loved to read though Jace found little time to do so, so was more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about the last book she read. She had shown him how to paint and draw, a skill he, though terrible at, found rather enjoyable, especially when he got the flicking paint at her. She herself had even found she loved a few of his hobbies or well if you can call sword fighting a hobby. 

she remembered the morning, it was still early in their courtship, the first week in.  She and Jace had yet to sleep and yet they could see dawn breaking through the windows in his room. They had spent the whole day and night talking, getting to know each other. “it’s dawn already?” Jace sighed as he moved from his spot on the sofa. she sighed from the movement, missing his warmth. 

“it’s seems so” she hummed 

“it’ll be time for training soon.” he spoke, not necessarily to her. 

“Do you train alone?” 

“Here I do, On Dragonstone Daemon is typically dragging me and Luke out of bed the second the sun begins to rise but here he has no desire to train” he looked at her, “why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“i have never even touched a sword” she exclaimed, as if the idea was a mad one.

He grinned “exactly, it’ll be most entertaining!”

she laughed, “fine, but you must promise to show me your high Valyrian!” y/n declared, he had been complaining how bad his Valyrian was but refused to show her, despite her being fluent and offering to teach him.

He sighed, then a big grin filled his face “very well, let us teach one another, i teach you in swordsmanship and you teach me high Valyrian” 

she laughed “very well! though i make no promises to these swordplay lessons!”

They met again in the training yard, both in training clothes. She had borrowed hers from Jace and she was sure he was trying to sabotage her. His clothes hung from her in an almost comical way, he himself had laughed as she nearly tripped netting the training yard.

“you look beautiful” he said though his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the way his clothes hung from her.

“Perhaps you could have given me some of Luke's clothes instead” she sighed, a frown forming her face as she hung her arm up to show just how big his sleeves were compared to her arms.

“Next time we shall!” he declared, stopping his laughter to then pass her a wooden sword “for now it’s fine.” 

The sword was heavier than she was expecting, as shown by how she nearly dropped it.

“do you do any exercise?” he asked, seeing her near miss with the sword.

she scoffed “no, do i look like someone who does?” she asked bewildered.

he laughed “no i suppose not, and knowing you it doesn't surprise me that you do not” he took the sword off her “perhaps we should start with some exercise”

“what?” she asked, she hated doing anything that could be remotely referred to as exercise. 

“Don’t worry, just some light exercise, to build stamina”  he looked at her then, something passing through his eyes. something she had yet to see. 

He had made her run ten laps, stretch in more easily than she knew possible, And then finally let her hold the sword. “You know I was hoping you wouldn’t take this so seriously” she sighed, hitting the dummy repeatedly. Jace corrects her technique with each hit. “really?”

“Of course not, when you said it I had hoped we would just be jesting around” she sighed dramatically, before moving to place the sword down on the rack. “I think that this ‘lesson’ is over.” she started to walk away only for Jace to grab her arm.

“Wait!” he said, pulling her back to him gently. “Are you really not enjoying yourself?” he asked with a sad smile on his face. 

y/n sighed, before a small smile graced her face “no, but perhaps hearing you speak some high Valyrian may make it more joyous.” she spoke, though she was enjoying herself a little, though it would definitely not be a hobby she would be taking up, though watching him practice his swordsmanship, that is a hobby she will be taking up.

“I- really?” he asked, his face unsure, “nyk-e don’t ȳdragon ziree sȳr”

She laughed, his accent and pronunciation were all over the place, perhaps she was better at swordsmanship after one lesson that he was at high Valyrian after years of lessons, “it’s gaoman daor ȳdragon ziry sȳrī”

I do not speak it well

“See what I mean!” he exclaimed, as she continued to laugh.

“oh Jace, gaomagon daor worry nyke sure kesā jiōragon sȳrkta isse daor jēda” she taunted. 

do not worry I’m sure you will get better in no time

“I have no idea what you just said '' he sighed, shaking his head, “but at least i can hold a sword properly” he taunted back to her.

“Hey! It's my first lesson, have you been learning high Valyrian for how long?” she questioned, a gleam in her eyes.

“hāre jēdri” he replied, a smile as he realised he had pronounced it correctly

Three years

She hummed, beginning to circle him, “hāre jēdri? funny seeing hae heleanas riñar ȳdragon sȳrkta eglie valyrain than ao se issi balrey hāre pōntāla”

three years? Funny seeing as Heleanas children speak better high Valyrian than you and they are balrey three themselves

“I- well, stop taunting me!” he protested.

“Only if we can stop this, will I have reached my yearly exercise limit.. For the year!” she joked, dramatically falling, conveniently into his arms. 

“Fine, fine!” he said, “but you can not mention to anyone about my high Valyrian.” he brought her back to her feet.

“Oh please who would i tell? se lo nyke gōntan, skorkydoso would ao sesīr gīmigon?” she laughed, starting to walk away, only to have Jace chase her back all the way back to her chambers.

and if i did, how would you even know?

It was safe to say she never participated in his training again, but on the odd days she was awake when he went, she found she did in fact enjoy watching him.

It took a few attempts before they found a hobby they both loved equally. Painting. She had been painting for as long as she can remember, Jace however had taken it up about two weeks ago, but seemed to love it as much as she.

“Let's paint each other!” Jace declared, as he saw the paints y/n left out. 

She hesitated, “have you ever painted before?”

“No, but how hard could it be?” She laughed at that, but said nothing.

They sat opposite each other, their art facing only themselves. They gave themselves an hour before they would show each other what they had painted. 

Jace went first. He seemed so proud of himself. To give him credit it was fairly good, though it looked nothing like her. 

“It's good!” she exclaimed, “i like it” she reached forward to grab it “i shall have it framed” she hummed. Jace smiled widely at that.

“Show me yours!” he asked, or more declared as he turned the canvas around himself. 

His face was shocked, mouth wide, “i- wow” he was at a loss of words. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed, his face one of awe, “and you said mine was good!, you were lying!”

She laughed, “no-no it is, i promise” i grabbed his art then, comparing the two, before throwing his on the floor, “oh please, mine is rubbish, yours is wow! I think it shall become my official portrait!” he exclaimed standing up and walking to the doors with it. 

“woah ! where are you going?” she asked standing up to follow him.

“Too show everyone” he stated as if it was the obvious answer.

He showed it to everyone he saw, a blushing y/n on his tail.

“Mother.” she spoke, back once more in the present, “i trust him, more than anyone and anything” at that her mother relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she saw a real smile gracing her mothers face.

The day of the wedding came, she had expected nerves and jitters, and yet all she felt was contentment. She knew she was lucky, most brides barely knew their husband before they wed them, and she knew Jace and he knew her. She knew his quirks, his hobbies, and he knew hers. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit so perfectly together. She was excited for this day, and as was he.

The dress she wore was her mothers dress. A white dress with sleeves coming down to her elbow before dropping down to the length of her dress showing a deep red. On her shoulder sat two dragons, dragons she had changed to represent Vermax and Gaelithox. The dragons were joined together and connected in an intricate pattern on her bodice. She wore no jewellery, only a small head piece, woven into the braids on her hair.

“You look beautiful” her mother declared. “Are you ready?”

y/n nodded, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, one last time before leaving her room.

The wedding was a blur, it went by so fast and before she knew it, Jace and her were declaring their love and sealing it with a kiss. They exchanged giddy smiles as they left the 

sept, their hands never wavering from their grip. The night celebrations went by quickly. The only time they never once left each others sides. It was the first event y/n ever truly enjoyed, they had danced four times that night, feasted to their heart's content, and enjoyed the first few hours of being newlyweds. 

Then it was time for the bedding. She had never been more grateful than when Jace shouted at the men attempting to drag her away, and he himself picking her up and taking her to their now shared chambers. 

“I am sorry for that.” he spoke, taking her hand in his, “I had made it clear we would not have a bedding, but -”

“Aegon had other plans' ' she interrupted, “do not worry, it's just who he is' ' she laughed.

For the first time in weeks the silence between them was awkward. Both knowing what was to come, but not how to start.

After a few moments Jace finally moved forward, he reached for her slowly, one had wrapping around her waist, the other reaching up to caress her face. They both looked at each other shyly, before Jace moved in closer, his lips capturing hers. It was soft and slow.

His lips still joined with hers they moved further into the room, his hand moving from her waist to her back, reaching and slowly unlacing the binds of her bodice.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, breaking away from her lips.

She nodded, “yes.”  As she slowly reached to pull of her dress, leaving her in just her chemise.

Jace groaned his pants tightening, he reached forward once again capturing her lips in his.

 They slowly moved towards the bed, her hands reaching towards his clothes, slowly taking them off and leaving him in his small clothes.

There lips breaking apart, they both took each other in, before finally lying on the bed. Jace continued to kiss her slowly moving from her lips to her neck, his hands reaching down to her should and moving the straps of her chemise down, revealing her breasts.

“gods” he groaned, “you’re so beautiful” he said as he moved down to kiss her breasts. Slowly moving down her body, removing her chemise as he did, leaving her bare beneath him.

He was level with her heat, he had heard of kissing there and the thought of tasting her in such a way made a groan escape him. “Can I?” he begged, unsure of what he meant y/n nodded.

Jace dived in, giving a cautious lick through her folds, he groaned at the taste and quickly went back licking and tasting like a starved man. She herself was moaning in pleasure, her hands clutching the back of his neck, tightening when he finally found her bud.

Releasing the reaction form touching the small bud of nerves, he made sure to focus his efforts on it, sucking it into his mouth, and bringing his fingers up to her entrance, beginning to circle her juices and slowly tease his way into her.

Tensing at the feeling of the intrusion, she gripped further onto him, and started to move away. With his spare hand he gripped onto her and pulled her back to him. His finger now pully in he instead started to focus his intentions of pumping them in and out of her. Causing her to start moaning once again in pleasure, even more so when his second and third finger entered her. Soon she was reaching her peak.

He slowly backed away from her, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick long length.

“gods” they both groaned at the sight of the others naked body. He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering hers. He once again took her lips with his, in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he once again asked, caressing her face.

She nodded, covering the hand on her face with her own and reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes” she consented.

He nodded, kissing her once more as he slowly entered her.

She groaned at the stretch, feeling at slight sting as he slowly entered her. Her face contorted in quick discomfort, but quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside her, allowing her time to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to her neck. “can I move?” he groaned, near begged.

“yes” she said, and he wasted no time, slowly pumping in and out of her. Slowly the discomfort faded and all she could find was pure pleasure.

Moving in and out of her, Jace was moaning, kissing her neck with each thrust, he had never felt such pleasure as he did in this moment.

Slowly picking up the pace, he soon found that sweet spot inside her, that turned her into a moaning mess. Wrapping her arms around his neck she was soon grinding her hips against his, chasing her peak, and he was soon reaching one of his own, spilling his seed inside of her.

Slowly pulling from her, her moved to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her towards him, he kissed her slowly and whispered, “I love you”. In that moment she felt what could only be described as solace.

That night, they did not sleep a wink, nor would they in the moons that followed. Their marriage was a harmonious one, one of love and joy. And when the king finally passed, and Rhaenrya was queen, there was no division of factions of house Targaryen, she liked to think that their marriage has helped branch the units, and make them once more a family.

Even more so when nine moons after their wedding she birthed their first child.

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog @apollonshootafar @zillahvathek @flrboyd @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99

to be added to taglist

[jackshiccup]

auuoou%#^uuuughhhh*&^76!@%$#!%$08*#E&auUUGOhghhhh

Heyy 🤓☝️so um httyd in the god of war universe (they’re aesir!)

And have design stuff

I rewatched god of war gameplays and felt very self indulgent so here they are <3

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a fic with Jacaerys x sister! Reader where they are at a gala/feast and ppl keep flirting with reader so Jave gets jealous and stuff. So when they go to their room at the end of the feast Jace makes her ride his face and makes sure she’s loud enough for everyone to hear that she’s his.

warnings: typical canon incest, jace x sister!reader (father is not specified), no dance of the dragons au, 18+ minors DNI, jace hates aemond in every universe, everyone lives au!!!, jace eating u out like a man starved, nyra and daemon giving kris jenner vibes???, cursing, the targtowers and targaryens are besties (kind of)

For your younger brother Lucerys’s name day of ten and five, your family decided it would be best to throw a feast for him.

He was becoming older and would soon inherit Driftmark, he needed a celebration to show that he is becoming a man and no longer a mere child.

Since your mother became Queen and your older half-brother became her heir, many people were interested in the lives of the royal family, so Luke’s name day was flooded with people from all over Westeros.

You were all dolled up in a fancy gown, you hair was braided so elegantly and intricately, and you moved with such grace that most eyes were on you throughout the night.

Luke joked to Jace that you may be able to find a lord husband tonight, but at his suggestion, Jace tensed up and his face hardened.

You sat with your family at the elevated table, you mother was in the middle, Daemon next to her, his daughters on his side of the table, you sat between Jace and your mother, and then sat Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, and Aegon.

You watched in awe at the celebration, only imagining how grand a wedding could be.

People danced, wore lavish clothing, gorged themselves in the food, and occasionally approached the table to offer up gifts to your brother for his name day.

It was about halfway through the night when highborn men started to approach you, which was uncommon up until recent.

Every since you had turned ten and eight, and became more developed in certain places, you were consistently approached for your hand.

Lord Oscar Tully was the first to approach your table, you smiled gently at him, knowing his new situation.

“Hello, Princess. You look lovely tonight.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, a dark color dusting your cheeks, he was quite the charmer, and not bad looking either, “Thank you, Lord Tully. I heard about your grandsire, I offer my deepest condolences.”

He nods solemnly, “Thank you, Princess. I may have lost my grandsire, but I have gained a deep power and a great kingdom… one I hope you will consider in your future.”

You smiled gently, “I heard the Riverlands are beautiful, I would most definitely love to see them someday. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I just wanted to come and offer you some company, if you’ll have me?”

You looked to your mother who smiled at you, knowingly. You looked back to the young lord and nodded, “I’d love to.”

You came around the table, taking his arm in yours as he led you to the floor to dance.

Jace’s gaze hardened and he downed his cup of wine, slamming it down on the table harsher than intended. Luke and Joffrey giggled at him, Viserys and Aegon following their older brothers’ actions.

Luke leaned over to his brother, “Careful, your face might get stuck like that.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

“I’m just saying…”

“He’s not good enough for her—”

“You say that about every man and I could hardly agree with you, most of the Riverlands looks to House Tully for direction and leadership; she would be in a great position there as their lady.”

“Do you want me to leave the table and kill myself?”

“All I am saying is that maybe you should focus on yourself instead of our sister… you need to wed as well, create heirs for the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jace rolled his eyes, “You sound like Mother.”

Rhaenyra whipped her head to her sons, “I think he is right, Jace.”

“Of course you do.”

“You are too invested in something that does not concern you Jacaerys. Perhaps you need to start looking for your own Lady Wife.”

“I do not wish to wed.”

“I hate to tell you, but your wishes do not matter to the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jace sighed, moving his gaze back to you and Lord Tully. You smiled as the two of you danced. Jace’s jealously only grew as he watched.

Oscar Tully was not good enough for you, no one is good enough for you… except Jace himself.

As the song ended, a new one started. Luke left the table with Rhaena, Joffrey and the twins were led to their chambers to be put to bed, your mother was in an intent conversation with Corlys and Rhaenys, and you had just been approached by Gwyane Hightower.

From the look on Gwyane’s face, Jace knew Gwyane was being smug with you, he scoffed, thinking that you would never be charmed by him, but when he saw you smiling, standing too close for comfort to him, he almost puked his supper all over the floor.

You danced and flirted with Gwyane Hightower for a bit of the night, making Jace more and more jealous.

As you finished with Gwyane, you returned to your seat, a big smile on your face.

“Enjoy your dance?” Jace asked, venom lacing his tongue.

“I did, as a matter of fact, Gwyane is… such a lovely knight. He’s a knight… did you know?”

Before Jace could respond, you were hugged lightly from behind by Helaena. She kissed you gently on the cheek, “Quite the collection of suitors you have assembled tonight.”

You giggled lightly, “I know! Quite fun, to be honest.”

Jace grunted from beside you, making you and Helaena both turn to him, “Are you alright?”

“Just fine,” he held his lips in a thin tight line.

You went back to your conversation with Helaena about her uncle, Gwayne and Lord Tully, when you were finally met by another suitor.

“Sister. Niece. Nephew,” Aemond stood in front of you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Uncle,” you looked at him with raised brows.

“I was just wondering if you would join me for a dance. I’ve seen all of these useless men that call themselves suitors and figured you needed a more distinguished partner, such as a prince.”

You blinked slowly at him, Helaena nudged you with a smile. You quickly glanced at Jace and thought he looked like he was about to roll over and die.

You stood and came around the table to meet him, you took his offered hand, “Let’s see how well you dance, Uncle.”

Helaena watched the two of you walk away, “A great pair, the two of them, they’ll be fantastic together,” she took a grape off your plate, popping it in her mouth and walking off.

This was Jace’s last straw, seeing you dance with Aemond might have been the most painful thing he’s ever done in his entire life. After watching for just a couple moments, he could not stand it any longer.

His mother rolled her eyes, watching him seethe, “Jace.”

“What?”

“Go get her.”

“What?”

“Go. I can see it in your eyes.”

Jace stood, rushing down to you and grabbing your arm, stealing you away from Aemond.

You followed him, shocked at the sudden behavior. He yanked you to his chambers, leaving the doors open.

Once in his room, you pulled away from him, “Jacaerys! What is the meaning of this?”

“You! You are the meaning of this!” His yelling made you take a step back, he stalked up, putting his hand on either side of your face, holding on tightly, “You think you can tease me like that? Taking any man who offered his hand?”

“Jace-”

“You know they are no good for you. They may be nobles, but are they heir to the Iron Throne? You are simply doing this to upset me.”

Your voice became small, “I did not mean to upset you.”

You could feel wetness pooling in your small clothes beneath your gown. He shoved his face into yours, harshly smashing his lips on yours.

You stumbled back at the forced, you pushed him back to take a breath and think about what you are doing. After a couple deep breaths, you rushed at him, nearly mounting him.

He groped and grasped at every part of you, you doing the same to him. His lips moved down to your neck, sucking lightly at it.

You threw your head back as his teeth grazed the sensitive area of your neck. The two of your shuffled your way to his bed.

“Jace… the doors, someone might see or hear.”

“I hope they do.”

“But—”

He pushed you on his bed, “I want them to hear how good your brother can make you feel, how they will never be me, how they will never taste you.”

He spread your legs, pulling off your underclothes. He grabbed your thighs, flipping you to straddle his face.

You fell forward, steadying yourself up with your hands. You pushed yourself up back in a sitting position.

Jace yanked at your legs, pulling you further down onto his face. You felt his nose buried into your cunt, rubbing against your sensitive bud.

You were about to voice your concerns about suffocating him, but you suddenly gasped out as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe down your maidenhood.

He thrusted his tongue in and out of you roughly, you screamed out for everyone in the hall to hear, “Gods! Jace!”

Visceral animalistic sounds came from the back of your throat, sounds you had never heard before.

In the hall, the attention of the crowds was taken by your yells, guards grabbed at their swords, you mother rose suddenly at your scream, Daemon was on his feet and ready for an oncoming attack.

One of Jace’s personal guards came rushing into the room to promise that no one was in danger and that the two of you were… together in his chambers.

Your mother and Daemon’s faces instantly reddened. They shared a look of embarrassment and pride. On one hand, as your parents, they wanted to kill you both, but as the Queen and King Consort, they knew the realm would be in their children’s hands at their demise.

Tears rolled down your face as Jace fucked you with his tongue. You had never felt such pleasures in your entire life. It made you understand why lowborn men seek out such endeavors at the disloyalty of their wives.

Jace couldn’t get enough of you. You tasted sweeter than anything that’s ever touched his tongue. His tongue moved faster as you panted, moaned, and groaned above him.

As his pace quickened, you felt a tight coiling in your lower stomach.

“Jace… fuck!”

At your vulgarity, he quickened his pace. You came fast and harder than you ever thought you could. Jace took all of your juices into his mouth, not leaving a drop of your sweet release.

You collapsed next to him, panting outrageously. He lay next to you, breathless, laughing to himself. You grabbed a pillow, hitting him the face with it. He took it from you, tossing it on the ground.

He came to hover over you, trapping you beneath his figure. You leaned down and kissed your lips gently, you could still taste your arousal on his lips.

You stared at him with a smile, “I suppose you think making the entire Keep believe we were under attack is funny?”

“It was not I that made them think we were under attack. If I am not mistaken, it was you screaming your head off.”

“You were the one who yanked me away from the celebration.”

“Yes, but you were the one who made me.”

You scoffed, sitting up against the headboard, “Made you?”

“Yes, dancing with that Tully, the fucking Hightower knight, and worse of all, Aemond.”

“Mmm, sounds like you are jealous?” You taunted him sarcastically.

“They are not deserving of you.”

“And you are?”

“I am the heir to the Iron Throne and your blood. I am the most deserving.”

“So are you suggesting I should become Queen one day?”

“Hmm, I do not remember offering my hand to you to wed…”

You hit him in the stomach with the back of your hand, “You just had the entire Seven Kingdoms hear my screams while you were buried up my dress. I would slaughter you and become the heir myself if you did not ask for my hand after that.”

He took your hand in his, kissing the back of your palm, “I shall talk to Mother in the morn.”

You stared at your intertwined hands, “We should return…”

“You think we are able to return after the little show we put on?”

“I suppose you are right,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He got up, leaving you on his bed. He walked to his chamber doors, locking them.

He returned to you, laying on his back, “Perhaps we should just rest now, we shall deal with our consequences tomorrow.”

You lay with him, resting your head on his chest, he brought his hand to rub your arm, coaxing you to sleep.

He pressed a couple kiss to your hairline, “You will be my wife soon enough, dōna tala.”

[cxce15]

Creagan Stark fic recs

By @just-some-random-blogger

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[bayofalgecirascranes]

I can see Alphonse being either a Greed or a Gluttony (after a fashion) but the more I think about it, the more I see him as Greed. His friends and family are his and woe betide all those who would do his friends harm.

We've all heard of Pride!Ed, but if Alphonse were a homunculus, who would he be?

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace Thank you for your beautiful comments! And for the ones that gave me ideas, trust me, I'm taking them into account ;)

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 (You're here) , PART 9

A little more of "The Dragon's Call"

Arthur: (at the feast waiting anxiously because Merlin is supposed to save him from "Lady Helen" to become his servant today and he isn't there yet)

Uther: Are you alright, Arthur?

Arthur: (too quickly) Yeah, right, excelent, never better.

Uther: You've been acting strange lately.

Arthur: (thinking) Well it's not easy to act normal around your dead father and your dead sister who wanted you dead. (says) I just haven't been sleeping well. I had... nightmares. Very long nightmares.

Uther: I see... (Thinking) I hope Morgana's condition isn't contagious.

Merlin: (Finally arrives with Gaius at the feast)

Arthur: (turns and his eyes find Merlin's almost immediately)

Merlin: (Thinking, while he looks at Arthur in the distance) Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?

Arthur: (Noticing Merlin is without his neckerchief, and he is so young and so beautiful, and he doesn't have his neckerchief on!) Gods have mercy!

Morgana: (enters in her breathtaking dress)

Merlin: (stares at her, but with a mix of longing and guilt)

Gwen: She looks great, doesn't she?

Merlin: (smiling sadly) Yeah...

Gwen: Some people are just born to be queen.

Merlin: (almost shouting) NO!

Gwen: There's no need to sound so disturbed.

Merlin: (composing himself) I'm sorry just... I think she could do better than Arthur that's all. (Thinking) And with someone that is not her brother.

Gwen: He's not so bad.

Merlin: (confused cause Gwen was supposed to agree with him) What do you mean? He was bullying a servant only a few days ago!

Gwen: I remmember. You confronted him about it.

Merlin: See? A total prat.

Gwen: And he also recognised his mistake and apologised. And he didn't arrest you for insulting him in front of his knights though that's technically treason.

Merlin: Okay, maybe not a total prat, but still a prat. (Thinking, worried) He was too nice indeed. Perhaps I was too harsh on him this time?

Morgana: (seeing Arthur is watching in Merlin and Gwen's direction) Have your eye on someone?

Arthur: (Cold) No.

Morgana: (playfully) Is it Gwen? or perhaps-

Arthur: Let's sit. Lady Helen will arrive at any moment (goes to his sit)

Morgana: ... Sure (thinking, while she goes to her sit) What's wrong with him?

Uther: (making an announcement) We have enjoyed 20 years of piece and prosperity....

Arthur: (thinking, resentfully) 20 years of genocide and lies.

Uther: ...It has brought to the kingdom and myself many pleasures but few can compare to the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.

Lady Helen: (enters while people clap)

Arthur: (looks at Merlin in the distance)

Merlin: (very concentrated with his eyes on the chandelier, waiting for lady Helen to stand under it)

Arthur: (smiling to himself, thinking) So that's how you did it.

Everyone falls asleep, except for Arthur who does feel sleepy but is still slightly awake for some reason, so he gets to witness when all the room is filled with spiderwebs and Merlin uses his magic to make the chandelier fall over Helen, who is soon reveal to be Mary Collins.

Arthur: (confused) What... (thinking) Why didn't I fall completely asleep?

Merlin: (whose magic hasn't been able to freeze time since he traveled back in time, but he doesn't know why) Come on, come on! (Tries again to stop time but doesn't work) Damn it! (Shouts and runs to Arthur) ARTHUR!

Mary Collins: (throws the knife at Arthur)

Merlin: (covers Arthur with his body on time and the knife stabs his back)

Arthur: (horrified) NO! (Holding Merlin as they fall to the floor) No, no, no, no! You idiot, what were you thinking?!

Gaius: (running to Merlin) Merlin!

Uther: Who is this?

Gaius: My ward. (checks Merlin) We need to move him to my tower as carefully and quickly as possible. I can't pull the knife out here, he'll bleed to death.

Merlin: (smiling weakely at Arthur) I did it. (Tears of happiness) I did... (Starts closing his eyes).

Arthur: (panic mode) No! don't you dare die on me! (carries him as Gaius instructed) You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay. Stay with me (thinking) Please, don't leave me again. I just got you back. I can't lose you again.

Time skip. Merlin wakes up in Gaius's tower and with his wound bandaged. The knife didn't puncture anything important, but apparently the blade was poisoned. Fortunately, it was a pretty common one and Gaius took care of it rather quickly. Gaius scolds him for scaring him as expected but then hugs him gently and tells him he must not do any effort for at least 2 weeks and rest. Just as Gaius leaves for some herbs, Arthur enters to check on him.

Arthur: Better do as he says. I can't have my personal manservant injuring himself.

Merlin: Personal manservant?

Arthur: My father, the king, decided to reward you for saving my life by granting you a place at the royal household.

Merlin: (happy inside, but pretending to be annoyed) As your personal manservant? Couldn't he just give me gold or something?

Arthur: (playing along) Most would consider it a great honor.

Merlin: Well, I'm not like most people.

Arthur: (laughs a little) You certainly aren't. (Gets close and checks him out little, cause he's never seen Merlin without a shirt before and damn it! is hard not to stare, but as soon as his eyes land on the bandage, he turns serious) What you did was very brave... and stupid. You shouldn't have done that.

Merlin: (still mocking) If that's your way to say "Thank you for saving my life", well, yeah, I'm starting to regret saving your royal ass.

Arthur: I'm serious. Now you're my manservant, therefore my responsability and my concern. You're not allowed to put yourself in harms way, ever, not even for me. (Thinking) specially for me.

Merlin: (bewildered at the sudden concern) Is that a rule?

Arthur: It is now. Do I make myself clear?

Merlin: (touched, he smiles) Yes, my lord. (Thinking) I would die for you a hundred times over.

Arthur: (Thinking, a wave of nostalgia invading him) "My lord"... how much I missed that. (says) Good. Now get some rest (starts leaving, but stops and turns) And Merlin.

Merlin: Yes?

Arthur: Thank you for saving my life. (Makes a small bow, smiles and leaves)

Merlin: ...

Merlin: Did he just bow to me?!! 😨

...

Some explanation: Arthur is now, not immune, but a little more resistant to some mind spells since his mind is from the future and has already passed for all those spells before. Merlin's magic is kind of weak, because the ritual Arthur did used the magic from the tree, therefore Merlin's magic to do the time travel thing, so lets say his magic is a little exhausted and needs recovering, but it just last a few days.

[sunderwight]

SV Game of Thrones AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a character who is basically Joffrey Lannister.

Luo Binghe is a mix of all the Stark kids, but mostly Sansa Stark and Jon Snow. Su Xiyan and Tianlang Jun had a Rhaegar-and-Lyanna thing going on, and Binghe's adopted mother was Su Xiyan's older cousin, who took him in after the fact and had him legitimized because she was the only remaining heir and had no other kids.

In the original story, King Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) develops a suspicion about Luo Binghe's heritage and, being just as paranoid about Heavenly Demons as Robert Baratheon was about Targaryens, invites the Luo family to come to court. Ostensibly so that Binghe can be playmates with the king's son and heir (Shen Yuan). Binghe's mom is horribly worried that they've been found out, but has not choice but to accept the invitation.

Of course, OG Prince Shen Yuan was a rotten little sadist who made it his life's mission to torment Luo Binghe, was eventually revealed to be the bastard spawn of Queen Qiu Haitang and her own brother, executed Binghe's mom for alleged treason, is party to the slaughter of the noble Liu family, and is eventually gruesomely assassinated at his own wedding feast.

Shen Yuan himself doesn't want to torment Binghe, or slaughter anyone, start any wars, or of course be gruesomely assassinated at his own wedding feast. He would much rather live his cushy life as a crown prince, figure out how to administrate a kingdom properly and also implement some better waste management practices to reduce the awful city stench (like, Shen Yuan was never terribly interested in plumbing in his first life but he is absolutely invested in the subject now.)

The problem is that the System absolutely demands that there be a war and certain other plot points in order to propel Luo Binghe into some sort of narrative destiny. Shen Yuan's not sure why because the last time he checked, the book series was stalled with Luo Binghe seemingly dead, and the television series had basically rendered everything he'd done pointless by the end, but regardless the System won't just let him peacefully evade all the drama and spare Luo Binghe all the suffering.

Boo.

Plus there's the concerning matter of the Northern Demon King awakening and mustering armies to conquer the south (and getting derailed by the beleaguered quartermaster of the Nightswatch, who keeps wondering when the fuck the actual protagonist is going to show up to handle the increasingly concerning plot points, because Binghe should have been exiled by now...?), Zhuzhi Lang resurrecting his uncle (as a dragon?!) across the Narrow Sea, and the Qiu family plotting the murder of the king and a coup to seize power...

(Also featuring: Yue Qingyuan as the parts of Jaime Lannister's character not currently owned by Qiu Jianluo, the Huan Hua Palace Master as a Littlefinger proxy, Meng Mo as Bloodraven, and many more!)

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.3k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The day had finally come for Rhaenyra Targaryen to officially ascend the Iron Throne. Jaenara had scarcely slept the night before, anxiety gripping her tight and threatening to plague her sleep with nightmares of all that could go wrong. A last minute attempt at usurpation. An outspoken Lord or Lady laying doubt to her claim during the ceremony. The possibility of her mother’s flesh slicing upon upon taking her seat on the throne.

 Jaenara sat by the window in her bedchamber, watching as the sun began to rise in the horizon, vibrant hues of orange, pink, and yellow coating the rooftops of King’s Landing. The young princess already felt exhausted thinking of all the lords and lady’s that would soon descend upon the Red Keep to behold her mother’s crowning. All the smiling and curtseying and pleasantries she would have to afford the visitors. But this was surely a historic and unprecedented occasion for them - a woman sitting the Iron Throne. A woman, they would bend the knee to. 

She took delight in the thought. Better her mother than her drunken, spineless uncle, who had never taken any kind of interest in matters of politics. She dared to guess that Aegon would take little delight in sitting in on her mother’s council in the coming days, despite the Queen extending this kindness to him. The most happiness he would find from the crowning of his half-sister was all the wine he’d be able to drink come the coronation feast that evening.

As Jaenara watched the citizens of King’s Landing trickle out of their houses and flood the streets below, readying to begin their days, she recentered her thoughts. Rhaenyra Targaryen would soon mount the most powerful seat in Westeros. And Jacaerys would one day follow suit. 

And I will take over Dragonstone. The princess was unsure of what to feel at the thought. It was a position she felt honored to hold, knowing that her mother had entrusted her with maintaining the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. Jace had even graciously given up his claim to it, so that Jaenara and Aemond — though mostly Aemond — would not feel as though they had been slighted during the negotiations that were held when debating the succession. 

And Jaenara would make a fine princess of Dragonstone — she had thought at least. For as long as Jaenara could remember, Rhaenyra had made a great effort to raise her children amidst politics and histories of the realm, preparing them to one day hold positions of power themselves. Her mother had always felt bitter about the fact that Viserys had never extended the same teaching to her when she was a young heir. She would not let her children suffer the same disadvantage.

The princess pictures herself sitting on the Dragonstone throne, a seat she had passed by many times, never imagining she would ever actually sit upon it. Jaenara wonders what the cold Valyrian stone which the throne was cut from will feel like under her touch. She imagines Aemond Targaryen, as her husband — the prince of Dragonstone, standing at her side. Her uncle had been taught just as she had, prepared to hold great status. Prepared to rule. Though she dares to guess it had played out much differently than he had ever imagined. But Jaenara understood the intelligence Aemond held and the skill he wielded. 

She can almost feel his hand on her shoulder, his warmth at her side, cold steel adorning his hip.

As much as she hated to admit it, Jaenara thought Aemond would fit in quite well at Dragonstone. The castle was quite grim and dreary, though it was rich with Valyrian history and architecture. Something she was sure her uncle would appreciate. That and well — he was quite grim and dreary himself. 

The sun had risen even higher in the sky when Jaenara’s handmaidens came knocking at her door, eager to dress the princess for this momentous day. 

“Come in.” She answers, without turning from the window, both apprehensive to begin the whirlwind of a day and simply captivated by the morning sky. 

Alora tiptoes through the doors of the princess’ chambers, followed by a few other companions. “Goodmorning, Jaenara!” She addresses her rather chirpily. Jaenara thinks she is much more excited for the festivities than she herself.

Jaenara finally rises from her seat by the window and walks over to meet her company, “Good morning, ladies,” she regards them politely, attempting to quell the anxiety bubbling within her, “I suppose we should begin.”

The maids set off to work, running the princess a warm bath. Jaenara lowers herself into the tub, relishing in the warmth that envelopes her. She sinks into the recesses of the bathtub, holding her breath and allowing the water to soak into her hair. When she finally resurfaces, the women start to scrub her head to toe. Her hair is then thoroughly washed, with oils and perfumes being sprinkled onto the black curls. Jaenara steps out of the bath, drying herself and letting Alora brush out the hair. As the young girl brushes out the tangles, Jaenara hopes that the water has rinsed away the unease that is surely evident on her features.

The princess is then covered in a flowing dress adorning the colors of House Targaryen. Scarlet cloth decorated with black embroidery resembling dragon scales adorns her figure. A golden belt bearing the sigil of Jaenara’s house is fastened around her waist. She shakes her hips and hears the belt quietly jingle, a giggle leaving her. She regards herself in the mirror a moment.

“Beautiful, my princess,” Alora’s smiling gaze meeting her own in the reflection. Jaenara offers a small smile back. 

I wonder if Aemond will think the same.

It takes Jaenara a moment to truly realize the thought that had crossed her mind. The princess shakes her head, as if to physically shake the question from her thoughts. What had gotten into her? She asserted that it mattered not what he thought.

Her attention turns back to the matter at hand when her handmaidens begin to brush through her hair once more. Long, winding sections of her dark hair are weaved together and made to form a bun atop her head, with some sections of braided hair left to fall below.

Finally, a golden headpiece embellished with gems is placed atop her head, mingling with her curls. “Oh?” Jaenara voices, “What’s this?” She turns once more to face her reflection in the mirror.

“The Queen has picked this out herself, Jaenara.” Alora answers, taking a step back from the princess to admire her work. “She tells us this is the headpiece she wore when she was near your own age — during the ceremony in which the late king named her heir.”

Jaenara can feel her heart swell from the admission. Tears threaten to well up into her eyes, though she forces them back down. She looks herself over, and sees her mother staring back at her. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Jaenara turns to her attendants, “I must thank you ladies, you have somehow managed to make me look presentable.” The women begin to laugh together when a knock is heard upon the princess’ door. 

“Yes?” The princess answers.

When the door opens and Jaenara sees her mother, she is quick to dismiss her handmaidens. “Thank you all — that will be all for now.”

The maids give a quick curtsy to the queen, with a few muttering a polite “Your Grace” as they filed out of the chamber.

Rhaenyra Targaryen stares at her daughter breathlessly, and wonders how eighteen years had slipped past her so quickly. She sees herself staring back at her, looking like a true Targaryen princess. She sees the ghost of her past lover, Ser Harwin Strong, his features etched onto her face — his spirit intertwined within their daughter’s. And though she shares no blood with Laenor Velaryon, she finds herself wishing the girl’s “father” could see the fine young woman he had helped her to become. 

“Mother,” Jaenara’s voice quivers.

Amidst the privacy of her chambers, Rhaenyra Targaryen embraces her daughter. “My Nara, my girl.”

Jaenara’s emotions soar once more and she lets a single tear escape. She pulls back from her mother after a moment, looking the Queen up and down. Her attire and beauty paled in comparison to her mother’s. The epitome of Targaryen elegance stood before her — the only thing that could possibly complete the look would be the crown soon to grace Rhaenyra’s head.

“You look beautiful — like a Queen.” Jaenara expressed. Rhaenyra smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jaenara quickly picks up on the mounting anxiety her own mother is feeling at the moment. She could not begin to fathom what it must feel like holding the entire realm on your shoulders. Jaenara takes a hold of her mother’s hands, and tries to be her strength. 

“You are ready for this, mother. It is your birthright. And when you are officially crowned, the realm will be the better for it.” Lavender eyes meet violet, as Jaenara finishes with, “I am proud to call myself your daughter.” 

Rhaenyra lets out a shaky breath, bogged down by emotion. She fiercely looks her daughter in the eyes, “I know I am soon to sit the Iron Throne but…but being your mother — being all of you children’s mother…is my proudest accomplishment.”

She puts a hand on the back of her daughter’s hand, careful not to ruin the braid her servants had diligently crafted, and pulls her forehead to her lips.

“We’d better get going, my sweet daughter.” She smiles down at her.

And so they do.

— — —

Aemond Targaryen stands at the head of the Great Hall, next to his siblings and mother, awaiting the entrance of his half-sister. His half-sister, the Queen. Prince Aemond could scarcely believe the day had finally come, though he knew it was inevitable given their father’s true intentions regarding who should succeed him. There was no denying it — much to the dismay of some people within his court, and even within Aemond’s own family. 

Otto Hightower, knowing that Rhaenyra had no place for him on the small council — or rather, knowing he could not puppeteer Rhaenyra as he had her father — had since returned to Oldtown. Aemond found that he felt relieved from the absence of his grandsire, and swore his mother shared a similar sentiment. 

Daylight from a cloudless sky now flooded into the Great Hall, illuminating tapestries depicting the histories of House Targaryen. Aemond’s ancestors stared down upon him, and he felt the weight of their unyielding gaze. 

He looked out into the crowd, the hall filled to the brim with noblemen and ladies who had all traveled far to attend the occasion. All to see the first Queen of the Seven Kingdoms be crowned. 

In truth, Aemond did not know how to feel at seeing Rhaenyra be crowned. He was nothing if not realistic, and he realistically understood that seating Aegon upon the Iron Throne would throw the realm into disarray and plunge House Targaryen into a war — one that would surely have been bloody. But when he saw his half-sister, he saw someone unworthy of sitting the throne — unfit to rule. 

If Aemond had been born before Aegon, he would not have yielded his birthright so easily. But there was still time yet to fight for some semblance of power, even if it was less than what he thought he deserved. The sapphire under his eyepatch feels hot. Just thinking about it all, made his scar itch and burn.

“What are you thinking about, brother?” Helaena’s soft voice calls Aemond away from his troubled thoughts. The burning dissipates to a dull throb. His sister stands next to him and regards him with a curious look.

“I am just eager for this ceremony to conclude…I suppose.” He answers Helaena, and it is not entirely a lie. 

“You and I both,” she says, adding, “Jaenara said she would stand next to me during the ceremony, so that we may ease each other’s nerves. I think I would quite like her company.”

Aemond hums thoughtfully. It is not so often that Helaena enjoyed the presence of others. Now it is Aegon’s turn to pipe up from the other side of Aemond, “Where are they? Does she really mean to keep us waiting up here so long?.” He whispers bitterly to anyone in his family who cared to listen.

“The Queen and her family will be here in a moment. They wanted to allow enough time for guests to trickle in. I did not think simply standing would be so taxing for you, Aegon.” Alicent tries to defend her friend. 

Aegon makes a face and rolls his eyes. “She is not Queen yet.” Aegon’s attempt to demean his half-sister falls upon deaf ears as the doors to the Great Hall are swung open, all eyes in the room following the commotion.

The air crackled with anticipation as low whispers broke out amongst the crowd. 

Through the parted doors, a procession of men carrying the banners of House Targaryen walked the length of the Great Hall, parting at each side once they reached the base of the Iron Throne. Behind them, Rhaenyra’s family began to trickle in. Daemon led the procession, looking composed and smug as ever, Dark Sister hung at his side. He takes his place next to the throne, where his wife will soon sit. Aemond looks at the man with great interest, considering how he too will soon stand beside his own wife as she sits upon a throne.

Daemon is then followed closely by Rhaenyra’s bastard children and their betrothed. Jacaerys and Baela walk side by side, as Lucerys and Rhaena march behind them. They take their places on the opposite side of the aisle where Aemond and his siblings stand. 

Finally, Aemond sees Jaenara, who trailed behind her brothers. She holds hands with little Joffrey, guiding him through the long stretch of the Great Hall. As his niece draws nearer, Aemond finds it difficult to tear his eye away from her. She looked….

Aemond found it impossible to settle on a word that encapsulated his niece’s beauty.

Bewitching. 

That felt as right a word as any — it was the only explanation as to why she had enraptured him so. Looking at his niece filled Aemond with a bittersweet ache. 

Amidst her beauty, Aemond watches Jaenara bite her lip — a nervous habit she had exhibited even in their youth. Surely, it would bleed or bruise in time. 

He wishes she would not ruin such beautiful lips. 

After what feels like an eternity of watching his niece, Jaenara finally reaches the summit of the Iron Throne, and stands next to Helaena, bridging the gap between the Targaryen-Velaryons and Targaryen-Hightowers. Jaenara and her aunt share thoughtful expressions, clearly pleased to be in each other’s company. 

Standing with her family at the head of the crowd, Jaenara could practically feel the weight of history in the air, the echoes of generations past and the hopes of those yet to come.

Aemond is still looking at Jaenara, who is clearly still caught up in the moment of the ceremony, when the procession turns his attention to the doors once more. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen, a picture of resplendent Targaryen nobility, begins her descent to the Iron Throne. Jaenara feels breathless watching her mother, squeezing Joffrey’s shoulders perhaps a touch too hard. The entire Great Hall has fallen into dead silence, contrasting the tumult the princess feels echoing in her head. As Rhaenyra ascended the steps to the dais, her movements were graceful and deliberate, a testament to the years of preparation and the weight of responsibility she bore. 

All heads are turned to Rhaenyra when she finally takes her seat. The High Septon, clad in his flowing robes of office, stepped forward to greet her, holding aloft the ancient crown of Aegon the Conqueror, symbol of the authority she was about to claim. His voice, resonant and filled with solemnity, carried through the hall as he spoke the words of blessing and investiture, reaffirming her right to rule as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The crown was lowered onto Rhaenyra's brow, its golden spires gleaming in the torchlight, casting shadows across her features. 

Jaenara's gaze was fixed unwaveringly upon her mother. The crown seemed to ignite with a radiant light, casting a halo around her mother's head. In that moment, Jaenara felt a surge of pride so strong it brought tears to her eyes. Her mother, who had guided her with unwavering strength, would now lead the Seven Kingdoms with this same strength. Her mother, who had taught her of duty and honor, would now rule the Realm with such values. It was a moment Jaenara had dreamed of, yet seeing it unfold before her eyes filled her with a quiet reverence she couldn't quite put into words.

A murmur of reverence and respect rippled through the gathered nobles, their voices blending into a chorus of acclaim as they acknowledged her ascension.

The High Septon’s voice echoes throughout The Great Hall: “All hail Rhaenyra Targaryen — Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” 

With the crown in place, Rhaenyra turned to face her subjects, her expression a mix of determination and humility. She raised her hands in acknowledgement, and the hall erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the high vaulted ceilings.

The Realm’s Delight had officially been crowned Queen. 

“Long live the Queen!” someone at the back of the hall shouts. Soon, the entire room booms together in uproarious unity: “Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”

Amidst the celebration, Aemond Targaryen watched from his place among the assembled nobility, his thoughts a swirl of uncertainty and cautious optimism. Beside him, his siblings exchanged meaningful glances, their expressions reflecting the weight of the moment.

Jaenara shared glances with her party, and soon met Aemond’s eyes. The prince could practically feel the palpable pride and joy spilling out from his niece. He gives her a small nod and returns his attention to the thunderous crowd before them.

Shouts of praise for Westeros’ new Queen continue to swell around them, threatening to blow the ceiling off of the Red Keep.

— — —

Servants of the Red Keep had swiftly reorganized the Great Hall to accommodate approximately a thousand lords and ladies for Rhaenyra’s enthronement reception. Jaenara Velaryon now sat at one of the expansive wooden tables, absentmindedly sipping her wine and wincing when it stung her bitten lip. Beside her was her twin, Jacaerys, and on the other side, Aemond Targaryen. Warm candlelight bathed the chamber, casting dancing shadows across the faces of all the attendees. Jaenara stole a few glances at her uncle, observing how the interplay of shadow and light accentuated his sharp features.

Aemond’s silver-white hair cascaded loosely as usual — the princess once again finding herself envious of the hallmark Targaryen attribute. Her eyes drifted down to his figure. Since the truce had been brokered, Aemond had taken to wearing black instead of his usual green. His cloak, adorned with subtle red stitching, draped elegantly, and a leather belt hung at his waist. Jaenara decided she should redirect her thoughts elsewhere.

The guests — as well as Jaenara and her family have mostly finished with the meal that was set before them. Still feeling high from the excitement of the day, Jaenara turns to Aemond, “You have been awfully quiet, uncle.”

The prince smiles wryly, “It is a…surreal time. I am simply absorbing the day’s events.” In truth, Aemond had been mentally revisiting his plans for what felt like the hundredth time. With his half-sister now officially Queen, his marriage to Jaenara would soon follow. Once they were wed, their fates would be intertwined. And then, he mused to himself, he could deal with Jacaerys...

Aemond imagines the light leaving his nephews copper brown eyes. He blinks and they are replaced with the cool lavender ones beside him. 

He grimaces and takes a swig of wine. 

Music has begun to trickle throughout the hall, no doubt in an effort to continue the festivities of the day. A surprise to everyone at the table, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen rise to their feet, making their way to the clearing in the middle of the chamber.

“Mother?” Lucerys scoffs incredulously.

The Queen shoots her children a look, but it is difficult to hide the smile spreading across her face. “Come on, all of you. We should inspire a bit of merriment.”

Balea and Rhaena break out into a fit of giggles, rising to their feet. Jace and Luke share a glance, looking bashful. Lords and ladies seem delighted at the sight of the royal family taking to the floor. Throughout the hall, guests begin to follow suit, flooding the chamber floor. 

The music swells as couples dance arm in arm. Jaenara has to take another sip of her wine to hide her shock from seeing even Aegon and Helaena descend upon the floor — her aunt thankfully looking mildly content. The princess winces once more as the wine mingles with the fresh gash on her lips. 

“You should put an end to that habit of yours.” a low voice mumbles to her.

Jaenara looks to her right and sees Aemond on his feet, offering her a hand. 

The princess lets out a little chuckle and waves her uncle off. Aemond seems to deflate ever so slightly at his niece’s dismissal, though his hand remains extended.

Jaenara’s laughter ceases, “Truly?” she asks.

“Well if you would prefer to remain at this empty table,” he looks around, “we may do that.”

Jaenara feels a surprising nervousness overtake her as she places her hand in Aemond’s. His large hand engulfs hers as he gently pulls her to her feet. She takes a moment to notice the callouses on this palm, surely a result of gripping the pommel of his sword. She runs her thumb over the rough patch of skin and Aemond almost shivers.

The princess feels her heart pounding in her throat as they approach the dance floor. Standing before Aemond, she hesitates, uncertain how to start. He clears his throat and gently encircles her waist with his hands. Jaenara's heart quickens even more—almost unbelievably—as she cautiously rests her hands on Aemond’s shoulders.

A lump swells in the prince's throat as Jaenara draws near, the intimate proximity unnerving him. He worries she might sense his racing heart. He speaks to her, hoping his words betray nothing of his physical turmoil.

“We must keep up appearances, niece. Even my brother and sister are dancing together.” Aemond looks down on her, noticing the quick rise and fall of her chest. He figured that was how Jaenara felt — they were simply playing their part.

But Jaenara feels a twinge of disappointment upon hearing this, and does little to hide it. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she responded, rather quietly, “Oh…yes, yes of course…”

A melody of strings fills the silence between the couple as they clumsily guide across the floor. Jaenara, as Aemond noticed, was much more skilled in dancing than he was. She was able to flit around with a certain grace, while he found himself unsure of where to step. At one point, he steps on her foot. 

Jaenara lets out a quick and quiet yelp at the sudden feeling, and she swears she sees Aemond’s cheeks turn pink. “Apologies,” he mutters. 

Despite his sore lack of dancing skills and the dull throb in her foot, Jaenara feels a smug grin pull across her face. 

“You’re not one for dancing I see. How brave of you to take me as a dance partner…I’m afraid my skills are lackluster as well.” She teases, though she attempts to calm her uncle’s nerves. 

Aemond scoffs, “If your skills are unpolished, then mine are nonexistent.”

“Doesn’t all that fancy swordplay make you light on your feet? Surely some of those skills are transferable.” Jaenara tells her uncle.

“This is nothing like that…” Aemond quips.

Jaenara’s laughter echoes through the crowd as she observes Aemond's awkwardness. He feels a twinge of embarrassment at the attention she garners, yet he can't help but admire the joy evident on his betrothed's face.

He savored this. Aemond took pleasure in eliciting genuine laughter and happiness from Jaenara—not the forced, empty laughs she gives when he says things he regrets later. Making her happy brought him joy.

Jaenara was laughing and smiling and happy and warm and in his arms. 

And she had no idea the atrocities that Aemond was planning. 

And what does that make me? He wonders. 

The music permeating through the chamber begins to change, an apparent signal for the couples around them to switch dancing partners. 

“Brother!” Aegon’s voice finds Aemond and Jaenara, “It seems it is time to swap!” Without giving anyone a chance to retort, Aegon takes Jaenara’s hand in his. Helaena settles in between Aemond’s arms as they both watch their brother whisk away the princess. . 

“Mittys” Aemond mutters.

“I am surprised to see you out on the dance floor, Aemond.” Helaena examines her brother curiously. 

“I could say the same to you,” he retorts, coming off a touch too defensive. Helaena raises an eyebrow, to with Aemond then adds, “Jaenara…wished to dance.”

His sister seems unconvinced. “Right…”

Aemond watches Jaenara and Aegon from across the ballroom. His brother's hands are settled on Jaenara’s waist, where his hands once lay. Her own hands are hesitantly perched atop his shoulders. Aemond experiences a hot, uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watches them dance. His gaze is fixed on the couple, his lips pressed into a tight line, brows furrowed. Nearby, Helaena sways dreamily, noticing Aemond's expression and struggling to conceal a small smile.

He watches mouths move, trying best to read their lips. Jaenara appears unexpectedly at ease now, and Aegon grinned wolfishly at his niece. It takes Aemond a great deal of willpower not to leave his sister’s side when he sees Jaenara laugh at some remark Aegon had made. His brother glances towards Aemond's position on the dance floor and sends him a wink.

Must he have everything? Aemond finally finds the resolve to stomp over to Jaenara and Aegon.

“It seems this song has ended, let us return to each other.” He says shortly, glaring at Aegon.

“Why the haste, brother? We were just getting started!” Aegon’s amusement at his brother’s jealousy was evident by the smug grin on his face.

Jealousy? Surely that was not it. Aemond found it impossible for himself to be jealous over such a trivial matter. Jaenara was her own lady, free to do what she wanted — especially when they had established that this relationship was merely transactional. 

But he did feel jealous. Especially when it involved his elder brother. 

Aemond takes his niece’s hand and guides her back to the other side of the room. He wordlessly reassumes his previous position, placing his hands on her waist and venturing to pull Jaenara slightly closer. The princess’ hands find their rest on his shoulders once more. 

"Helaena must have been terribly dull if you returned to me so swiftly for a dance," she muses.

Aemond decides not to meet her gaze, instead focusing on a corner of the chamber that lies straight ahead.

“What did you and Aegon speak of?” He asks quietly, not bothering to respond to her joke.

“Oh,” His niece sounds taken aback, “Nothing really. He asked me what I thought of the coronation. How I was feeling this evening. He was being surprisingly tame…perhaps the wine has dulled him for once…” A pause, “He made a joke about your ‘piss poor lack of dancing skills’ as he called them. But that is all.”

“Hmm.” Is all Aemond cares to respond with, as his gaze remains fixed on that empty corner of the room. 

Has he always been this…brooding? The princess asks herself. Jaenara’s hands squeeze on his shoulders slightly, attempting to recenter her uncle’s attention. It makes Aemond feel dizzy. He finally dares to look down at her.

To the prince, Jaenara’s headpiece looked like a golden halo nestled amongst her raven hair. His eyes soften.

Bewitching. 

“He can say what he likes.” He finally adds. 

“I would not let him.” Jaenara asserts firmly. “No one is allowed to disparage you but me.” She teases, hoping she has not crossed a line. She feels reassurance upon seeing a smirk crackle upon Aemond’s face. 

Jaenara was not sure what she was doing — acting like this. So carefree, so playful. Enjoying herself. Perhaps buoyed by the wine or the lingering elation from her mother's coronation. But all of the earlier worries of the day had momentarily melted away, and she found herself enjoying Aemond Targaryen’s company. 

Aemond and Jaenara eventually find themselves back at their family’s table, both having their fair share of dancing for the evening. The lords and ladies have begun to trickle out of the Red Keep for the evening, much to Aemond’s relief as he was beginning to feel tired from the day’s festivities. Though his fatigue was nothing compared to the exhaustion Jaenara felt; she was beginning to feel the consequences of staying awake the previous night. When Jaenara noticed her mother gesturing for her to join her at the end of the table, she whispered a quick remark to Aemond and rose to take her seat next to Rhaenyra. Aemond watched carefully as mother and daughter delighted in their conversation, Rhaenyra occasionally casting a glance in her half-brother's direction as they spoke.

Aemond huffed and took a drink from his cup. 

“Aemond.” Jacaerys said from across the table. The prince looks up to his nephew.

“Thank you,” Jace tells him, “for dancing with her. She likes to pretend she does not care for such frivolities. But she does.”

Aemond nodded in acknowledgment. He began to revel in the fact that Jace seemed to be warming up to him finally, when the man across from him spoke once more. 

“She likes to pretend she doesn't care about a lot of things, really…But it’s not true. You can always tell when she’s lying…” Jace adds, his eyes fixed on Aemond. An uncertain expression crossed his nephew’s face, hinting at some hidden knowledge.

Aemond seemed to grasp the implication.

Impossible.

He cleared his throat in a rather exaggerated manner and stood abruptly, causing his chair to scrape loudly against the floor. All heads at the table turned towards him.

"I... I am retiring for the night," he announced. He dared to glance at his half-sister, though he skillfully avoided the confused gaze of Jaenara. "Your Grace," he added, his voice strained. 

Rhaenyra returns the acknowledgement with a polite nod. 

Aemond strode out of the Great Hall, heading straight for his chambers. He wished for the dark corridors of the Red Keep to swallow him whole. The silence of the night was shattered by the echoing sound of another’s footsteps on the stone floor. He quickened his pace.

“Uncle!” A small voice called out behind him.

Damn it all.

Aemond does not need to turn around to know who has followed him, though he does stop and wait for her to catch up.

“Are you well?” Jaenara asks breathlessly.

He does not meet her eyes when he responds. “Just tired.” His tone is convincing, for he sounds exasperated.

Jaenara hesitated to address the obvious turmoil surrounding him, deciding to let it lie for now.

"Very well... Goodnight, uncle. Try to get some rest," she said, her tone teetering between sympathy and suspicion. When he didn't reply, the princess turned and began making her way back to the hall.

Aemond takes a glance over his shoulder, watching his betrothed safely return to the chamber.

“Goodnight, Jaenara.” he whispers into the stillness of the night.

a/n: this chapter felt a bit rushed to me but I just really wanted to get something out ahhhh. as for the next chapter...hehehe...

tags: @aleemendoza2425-blog @toodlesxcuddles

[mrsshabana]

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮..."

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒: 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary A relationship between a fairy and a demon is strictly forbidden, so sneaking away in the middle of the night is the only way you get to spend time together. But tonight, you decide to take things further. However, being much larger than you, Gyutaro worries his size may be too much for you to handle. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, fantasy au, fairy reader, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.1k words. This is definitely my favorite entry so far! It's unique compared to the other ones I've written, so I hope you enjoy it!

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

Once again you find yourself trudging through the forest for another secret meeting with your lover. Unfortunately, this is how things must be. A relationship between a fairy and a demon from the forbidden city is strictly unheard of. 

You had never met a demon before until you saw Gyutaro. Demons have always been described as terrifying creatures, but his appearance still surprised you. His curved horns, pointed tail, and large dragon-like wings. Not to mention how much bigger he was than you, when standing beside him the top of your head only goes up to his waist. 

But his appearance didn’t stop you from helping him when you saw him in need. He had been exploring through the forest on the outskirts of your village in search of a magical berry. This berry was rumored to rid oneself of their ugliness. But, not being used to traversing dense forests, he had quickly found himself stuck in a patch of enchanted vines. 

Luckily you came along when you did, using your magic to free him from the vines. When Gyutaro first laid eyes on you, he was entranced by your beauty. Your sparkling wings and the delicate flowers laced through your hair captivated him. 

After that day, you two were inseparable. And it didn’t take long for Gyutaro to confess his feelings for you, and the two of you became a couple. Neither of you were bothered by dating someone of a different species, if anything, your differences brought you closer. You learned that demons weren’t as terrifying and vicious as everyone had claimed. Gyutaro was a sweetheart and he always went out of his way to protect you and make you feel special. Something about the glimmer of his fangs and the glow around his slit pupils made your heart skip a beat. You loved that he was different from anyone you’d ever met before. 

Trekking through the forest you finally spot a familiar bush with blue leaves and pink flowers. Parting the leaves and stepping through, you see him. Gyutaro sitting under a large glowing mushroom, the landmark of your nighttime rendezvous.

“Gyutaro!” You shout excitedly.

He immediately perks up and looks behind his shoulder. “Y/N! My Love!” He smiles wide and stands up - coming towards you with open arms. 

Using your wings, you fly into his embrace. Gyutaro hugs you tightly, spinning you around in his arms. 

“Mmmmwa!!” You exaggerate as you kiss him on the lips. Causing a blush to quickly spread across his cheeks. 

“C’mon,” he kisses you back and carries you over to the glowing mushroom. He sits down on the lush grass and places you on his lap. “So tell me,” he says as he picks a flower and places it behind your ear, “How was your day?”

“It was good! I helped the elders prepare for the Autumn feast,” you get excited as you remember something, “Oh! They even let me enchant the lily berries to ripen them!”

“Wow, you did that with your magic?” he smiles, “You never cease to amaze me.”

“What about you, my love? How was your day?”

“It was fine,” he sighs, “Spent most the day collecting debts. The only thing that got me through it was thinking about you. I’ve missed you all day…”

“I’ve missed you too,” you caress his cheek and lean forward, touching your lips to his. He puts a clawed hand around your waist and deepens the kiss. It’s obvious just how much he’s been craving you. A soft whimper escapes your lips as he slides his forked tongue into your mouth. Exploring your mouth, and savoring the sweetness of your lips. 

Things are getting heated, and you can feel something harden beneath you. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence, but things usually never go further than this as you’ve both been avoiding the elephant in the room. 

But tonight is different, you don’t want to ignore it anymore.

“Mm, Gyutaro?” you hum as you pull away from the kiss.

His cheeks are red and his pupils are dilated as he looks at you, “Something the matter, darling?”

“I… I want to try being intimate with you,” you say shyly, blushing and looking away.

He’s silent for a moment, clearly taken aback by your statement. “B-but,” he starts, but pauses. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts and build the courage to finally address the one thing he’d been avoiding. “I don’t want to hurt you… I-I’m so much bigger than you��� and well, you know…”

“I know,” you mumble, “But I still want to try. I really love you and I feel safe with you. I know you’re a lot bigger than me, but I trust you.”

His lips curl into a shy smile. He can’t help but feel excited, even despite his nervousness. “Ok, we can try. But please tell me if it’s too much, ok? I won’t be upset if we need to stop.”

You nod excitedly, “I promise! I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Besides, there’s always other things we can do if it doesn’t work.”

He nods and starts kissing your neck. “You’re right,” he whispers between kisses, “But I won’t lie. I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a long time.” 

“Ah,” you gasp, “Me too.” 

He gently picks you up and moves you to lay on your back before crawling on top of you. Looking down at you lying beneath him makes him even more nervous. You look so small, like he could easily break you. 

Sensing your boyfriend’s hesitation, you slip off your dress to give him some encouragement. His eyes widen, seeing your lacy panties and your bare chest. He can’t take his eyes off of you, staring intently at your body. You notice his erection twitch under his pants just from the sight of you. 

You break him out of his trance by tugging on the hem of his shirt, “Your turn.” 

“O-oh! Right,” his voice is shaky as he removes his shirt - revealing his scarred but heavily muscled chest. His waist is thin and his hip bones jut out, but he has large muscles on his arms and abs too. His body is quite unique, but you love that about him. 

“So handsome,” you say, running your fingers along the birthmark on his hip. His tail sways side to side in excitement. 

Your kind words give him the courage he needs to continue. He leans forward and kisses your breast. Opening his mouth and playing with your nipple between the fork of his tongue. Gently pulling and pinching. 

“Gyutaro~” You moan. Rubbing your thighs together as you feel your panties getting soaked. “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “I want you too.”

He sits up and removes his pants. His massive cock springing free. Seeing the sheer size of it almost makes you regret suggesting this. But you can’t say it wasn’t expected, it’s only proportionate to his size so it makes sense. It’s still quite intimidating though. 

He collects the precum that was dripping down his shaft and strokes his length. His hand gliding over the large veins and birthmarks that cover his cock. 

Placing his body back on top of yours and looking down at you, he hooks a clawed finger under your panties and slides them off. Your slick sticking to your thighs as he does so. 

Holding your legs open, Gyutaro stares in awe at your pretty little pussy. So wet and inviting for him, he can’t help but grab the base of his cock and align it with your entrance. But seeing the hefty size difference brings him back to reality and makes him second-guess this. 

“I-I don’t know if this is possible, my love,” his voice is laced with a hint of sadness and disappointment.

Looking down at his long, girthy member, you can’t help but feel really nervous too. But you still want to try so you plead, “Please Gyutaro~ I want you so bad. Let’s at least try.”

He can’t deny you when you say such sweet things to him, “Alright. I’ll go slow, ok?”

You nod, “Ok. I just want to feel you inside me~” 

He bites his lip and pushes his hips forward, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. You spread your legs as wide as you can, and it takes a bit of force for him to finally stretch you enough to breach your entrance. 

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, “S-so tight.” He pants and gasps, already feeling overwhelmed by the way you squeeze him so tightly. 

You take deep breaths and hold onto him in an attempt to distract yourself from the pain of him quite literally splitting you apart. It hurts like hell but you can’t deny the sensation of pleasure intertwined with the pain. 

He places his hands on your thighs, pushing them further apart as he slides further into you. A clear bulge appears in your stomach as more of his cock fills your insides. 

Once he’s finally seated fully inside of you, your body starts quivering from the sensation of being filled past your limit. 

It’s overwhelming for Gyutaro too, but he manages to speak through his panting, “Are you ok, my love?”

“Mm hm,” you nod, “F-feels good. Feel so-so full~”

With your affirmation, he slowly starts thrusting. The tightness of your walls pulling him in, only allow him to slide his cock out ever so slowly before plunging back in again. The bulge in your stomach moves along with his thrusts. 

He gently slides his hands under you, picking you up as he sits up on his knees. Grabbing your waist with both hands and fucking you like you’re his own personal fleshlight. 

Your body begins to shake uncontrollably and you’re left moaning and hollering as he fucks you silly. Your eyes roll back and drool drips from your open mouth as he continues fucking you, quickly bringing you to your climax. The way his cock stretches you apart, constantly putting pressure on your sweet spot, causes you to cum all over him. You’re left screaming his name and squirming as your juices drench his pelvis. 

Not to mention how the tightening of your already impossibly tight cunt brings him to euphoria. He can’t help himself as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder through your orgasm. 

You mumble incoherent words that have some semblance to his name, “Gyu-tah-ah-ah-roooo!”

“F-feel good, darling?” he grunts, “Feel so fuckin’ tight ~ah~ Gonna-gonna fill you up.”

Your wings flutter rapidly as your body becomes overly sensitive, drowned by the pleasure of his massive cock. Your body involuntarily twitching and squirming as your walls tremble - tightening around him once again. 

“That’s it, my love, that’s it,” he moans, keeping a firm grip around your waist as he continues using you like a little toy. His claws dig into your soft flesh and his cock twitches. 

Finally, you climax once again, this time more intense than the last. Squeezing, tightening, and milking him. Your back arches as your entire body spasms. 

Feeling you orgasm around him brings him to his peak as well. His cock convulses inside of you, visibly able to see the bulge in your stomach twitching as he pumps your little hole full of cum. His wings span open and his tail shudders. 

“Ngh! Y-Y/N!! Ah Aahhh!” He moans loudly. 

His hands firmly hold you flush against his hips, making sure he’s as deep within you as possible as he shoots thick ropes of hot cum. Pumping so much into you, that as he slowly pulls out, your belly deflates as it pours out of you. Collecting in a puddle on the grass, a collection of both of your releases. 

Both of you are left panting and at a loss for words, still trying to catch your breath and recover from the intense love making. 

Gyutaro lays on his back and gently moves you to lie on top of him. He wraps his wings around you and whispers, “I love you.”

“I-I love you too,” you whimper, body still shaking. 

He holds you close to him and caresses your body under the light of the glowing mushroom. After all of that, he knows you’re going to need some intense after care. But he doesn’t mind, he gladly stays with you all night. Giving you soft kisses and gentle touches, showing you how much he loves and appreciates his little fairy. 

Gyutaro really is a gentle giant. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[novaursa]

- Note: So, I'll give this a go here. Those who followed my work on AO3 will notice some changes, but the gist is the same. Also, please be kind. If you don't like it, just scroll over it. I post stuff for people to enjoy them and escape the burdens of their lives with me for a while. There is no grand conspiracy here. Just read and relax. Also, this is an AU fanfic and my own personal toxic blend of the show and the book(s).

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

Part 1

The air was thick with anticipation and the clang of swords as the tournament raged on in the fields outside King's Landing. Knights clashed in the lists, banners fluttered, and the crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the castle walls. Yet inside the royal chambers, the atmosphere was tense and fraught with fear.

Queen Aemma Arryn was in labor, her cries of pain mingling with the distant sounds of celebration. King Viserys I Targaryen paced the length of the chamber, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, worry etched deeply into his face. This was the moment he had long awaited, the birth of his male heir. But the labor was not progressing as it should.

Maester Mellos hovered nearby, his brow furrowed as he consulted with the midwives. "The babe is in breech, Your Grace," he said, his voice grave. "We cannot turn it. If we do not act soon, we will lose them both."

Viserys halted, his heart pounding. "What can be done?" he demanded, though he feared the answer.

"We can attempt to save the child," Mellos replied, his tone heavy with the weight of the decision. "But it will mean sacrificing the queen."

The king's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Aemma, her face pale and slick with sweat, her eyes filled with agony and desperation. She had given him so much, had borne the burden of his ambitions and dreams. And now, he was faced with a choice that would haunt him forever.

"Aemma," he whispered, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "My love, they say... they say they can save the babe."

Aemma's eyes met his, wide with fear and pain. "Do what you must," she gasped. "Save our child, Viserys. Promise me."

Viserys felt his heart shatter, but he nodded, pressing a kiss to her trembling hand. "I promise."

The maester and midwives moved quickly, their faces set with grim determination. Viserys stood back, his hands shaking, as they prepared for the terrible task. He could hear the clamor of the tournament outside, a cruel reminder of the celebration that had turned into a nightmare.

The room was filled with the sounds of Aemma's cries and the maester's steady instructions. Viserys felt his world narrowing to this moment, every second stretching into an eternity. And then, a piercing wail broke through the tension.

"It's a boy," one of the midwives exclaimed, holding up the tiny, wriggling form. The babe's cry was strong, a sign of life and promise.

Viserys felt a brief surge of relief, but it was short-lived. "Wait," the maester said, his eyes widening in surprise. "There is another."

The midwives worked quickly, and soon another child was brought into the world, a girl this time, smaller and silent. The room fell into a hushed silence as they examined her, worry etched on their faces.

"She is not crying," one of the midwives whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys stepped forward, his heart aching. "Vaella," he said softly, naming her after an ancient Targaryen ancestor. "My daughter, Vaella."

The maester nodded, though his expression remained grave. "She lives, but she is weak."

The twins were placed side by side, Baelon strong and crying, while Vaella lay silent and still. Viserys looked down at them, his heart torn between joy and sorrow. He reached out to touch Vaella's tiny hand, and in that moment, her eyes fluttered open, indigo and bright, meeting his with a quiet intensity.

"She will be strong," he murmured, a fierce determination filling him. "She will live."

The room was filled with the mingled sounds of the babes and the distant roar of the tournament, a poignant reminder of the life and death that intertwined in the halls of power. Viserys knew that this day would be remembered, not just for the birth of his heirs, but for the choices and sacrifices that had marked its passing.

...

A few hours later, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen arrived at the nursery, her heart heavy with grief for her mother. She had loved Aemma deeply and the pain of her loss cut through her like a blade. The celebrations outside had turned into whispers of tragedy, and the joy of new life was mingled with the sorrow of death.

Rhaenyra’s steps were slow and measured as she walked through the halls, her mind reeling from the news. She understood, intellectually, why her father had made the choice he did, but it did little to soothe the anger and resentment boiling within her. She had wanted a brother, yes, but not at the cost of her mother’s life. And now, not only had she lost her mother, but her father had chosen a name for her sister without consulting her. She had wanted her sister to be named Visenya, after their legendary ancestor.

As she entered the nursery, she found the room softly lit and quiet, save for the occasional murmur of the maids tending to the infants. Rhaenyra’s gaze fell first upon her brother, Baelon, lying peacefully in his cradle, a small dragon egg nestled beside him, warm and glowing with promise.

"He's so small," she whispered to herself, reaching out to touch Baelon's tiny hand. His fingers curled around hers instinctively, and she felt a pang of tenderness mixed with her sorrow.

Then, she turned her attention to the cradle beside her brother's. Her newborn sister, Vaella, lay there, wide awake and silent. Vaella was pale, almost translucent, with an ethereal quality that unsettled Rhaenyra. Unlike Baelon, there was no dragon egg to keep her warm, yet the babe seemed content, her indigo eyes staring up at Rhaenyra with a calm intensity.

Rhaenyra knelt beside the cradle, her heart aching. "Hello, Vaella," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm your sister, Rhaenyra."

"Hello, little sister," Rhaenyra said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Vaella’s cheek. The baby did not react, her gaze unblinking. "Father named you Vaella, but I would have called you Visenya. A name worthy of a queen."

Vaella’s tiny hand moved slightly, as if reaching out, and Rhaenyra took it gently in her own. She marveled at how small and delicate Vaella was, a stark contrast to the strong and robust Baelon.

"She doesn't cry," one of the maids said quietly, approaching Rhaenyra. "She hasn't made a sound since she was born."

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes never leaving Vaella's face. "She will be strong," she said, echoing her father's earlier words. "She has to be."

The maid hesitated before speaking again. "Your Grace, we were instructed to place a dragon egg in Vaella's cradle as well, but..."

"But what?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone sharp.

"We couldn't find one that seemed... right," the maid replied, her voice faltering. "The eggs are all warm, but none of them felt suitable for her."

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened. "Then find one," she ordered. "She deserves the same chance as Baelon."

The maid bowed her head and quickly left the room. Rhaenyra turned back to Vaella, her expression softening. "I wanted you to be named Visenya. A name worthy of a queen," she whispered, brushing a finger gently across Vaella's cheek. "But Vaella is a strong name too. You will make it strong."

Vaella’s eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking and serene. Rhaenyra felt a strange sense of calm wash over her, as if the silent babe was imparting some of her tranquility.

She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "I will protect you, Vaella. I will protect both of you. Mother's gone, but you have me. And I will not let anything happen to you."

Rhaenyra stayed there, watching over her siblings, her heart heavy with the weight of her promises and the sorrow of her loss. She knew that the days ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but in that quiet moment, surrounded by the fragile beginnings of new life, she found a glimmer of hope and determination.

The nursery was a haven of calm amidst the storm, and as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Rhaenyra vowed that she would honor her mother's memory by standing strong for her family, no matter the cost.

...

The next day dawned with a hushed stillness that seemed to permeate the entire Red Keep. The jubilation of the previous day had been tempered by the tragedy of Queen Aemma's death, but the court still held a flicker of hope in the promise of the newborn twins. Servants moved quietly through the halls, attending to their duties with a solemn air.

In the nursery, the maids and servants who had tended to the twins throughout the night were greeted by a scene of unexpected and harrowing sorrow. The once lively Baelon, who had been sleeping peacefully beside his dragon egg, was now eerily still in his cradle. His tiny chest no longer rose and fell with breath, his eyes closed in eternal slumber.

The discovery sent a shockwave through the nursery. Gasps of horror and grief filled the room as the realization settled in. The King's heir, his long-awaited son, was dead. The dragon egg that had been placed beside him now seemed like a cruel mockery of the life that had been so abruptly extinguished.

"Fetch the Maester," one of the servants choked out, her hands trembling as she tried to comprehend the tragedy before her. "Quickly!"

Maester Mellos arrived swiftly, his face a mask of concern as he took in the scene. He approached Baelon's cradle with a heavy heart, gently placing his fingers against the babe's tiny neck, hoping against hope for a sign of life. There was none. He bowed his head, his heart sinking with the weight of the loss.

As Mellos turned to the cradle beside Baelon's, a sudden and piercing wail filled the air. It was a sound so unexpected and startling that it caused everyone in the room to freeze. Vaella, the silent and still babe, had come alive with a cry that seemed to resonate with a power far beyond her fragile form.

"By the Seven," Mellos muttered, his eyes wide with astonishment. He moved to Vaella's side, noting the newfound vitality in her eyes, the strength in her cries. She was more alive now than she had been since her birth.

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, their grief for Baelon now mingled with a sense of unease. Mellos looked down at the wailing Vaella, his mind racing. It was an old superstition, a whisper from the past: when one twin died, the other sometimes took their soul, their strength. It was said to be a bad omen, a dark portent.

Mellos kept his thoughts to himself, though the notion unsettled him deeply. "It is a tragedy," he said aloud, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The Princess Vaella has found her voice, it seems, but the loss of Prince Baelon is a heavy blow to us all."

One of the servants, a young woman with tear-streaked cheeks, looked at Mellos with a mixture of fear and confusion. "What does it mean, Maester?" she asked. "Why now?"

Mellos sighed, shaking his head. "I do not know," he admitted. "But we must inform the King. This loss... it will cripple him."

The servants nodded solemnly, their hearts heavy with the task ahead. As they prepared to deliver the devastating news to King Viserys, Mellos turned back to Vaella. The babe had quieted, her cries giving way to a strange, serene silence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted in the balance of life and death within this room.

"I will note this in my journal," Mellos murmured to himself, making a mental note to document the strange events surrounding the twins. He would keep his suspicions to himself for now, but the memory of Vaella's piercing wail would haunt him for years to come.

As the maids and servants moved to carry out their somber duties, the weight of the tragedy settled over the Red Keep like a shroud. The joyous celebrations of new life had been overshadowed by death, and the realm would feel the ripples of this loss for years to come. King Viserys, now a father and a widower, would have to navigate the treacherous waters of grief and responsibility, his heart forever marked by the sorrow of this day.

...

The day of the funeral dawned cold and overcast, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the somber mood of the assembled mourners. All gathered before the grand pyre that had been erected outside the Red Keep, a stark testament to the loss of both Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. The scent of incense and the crackling of torches filled the air, but a profound silence hung over the gathering, broken only by the distant sound of waves against the shore.

King Viserys stood closest to the pyre, his shoulders slumped and his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights of weeping. His grief was a palpable thing, weighing down the very air around him. He seemed almost a ghost of himself, hollowed out by the dual tragedies that had befallen him.

A little further down, Rhaenyra stood with her newborn sister Vaella cradled in her arms. She held the babe tightly, as if drawing strength from her tiny, warm presence. Vaella was silent, her indigo eyes wide and watchful, taking in the scene with an uncanny stillness.

Behind Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon Targaryen watched with a mixture of sorrow and concern. He stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. "It's time," he said softly. "Your father needs you now."

Rhaenyra turned her tear-streaked face towards her uncle, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. "I will never be a son," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And neither will Vaella."

Daemon's expression softened, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You are stronger than any son, Rhaenyra. And your father needs that strength now more than ever."

Taking a deep breath, Rhaenyra nodded. She stepped forward, feeling the weight of her duty pressing down upon her young shoulders. She could feel the eyes of the gathered nobles and courtiers upon her, their silent expectation adding to her burden. She glanced at her father, who seemed lost in his own world of sorrow, barely aware of his surroundings.

With tears streaming down her face, Rhaenyra looked up at Syrax, her beloved dragon, who waited patiently beside the pyre. The golden beast’s eyes glowed with a fierce intelligence, and she seemed to understand the gravity of the moment.

"Dracarys," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice breaking.

In an instant, Syrax unleashed a torrent of dragonfire. The flames roared to life, consuming the pyre in a brilliant blaze that lit up the overcast sky. The heat was intense, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh. The mourners stepped back, shielding their faces from the searing heat, but Rhaenyra stood her ground, her eyes fixed on the flames.

The crackling of the fire was accompanied by the soft sobs and murmurs of those gathered. The loss of their queen and the young prince was a blow to the realm, and the grief of the people was a reflection of the profound sorrow felt by their king.

Rhaenyra looked down at Vaella, her tiny face illuminated by the firelight. "You are all I have left of her," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her sister’s forehead. "I will protect you, always."

Vaella gazed up at her, silent and solemn, as if she understood the weight of her sister's words. Rhaenyra felt a fierce protectiveness surge within her. She might never be the son her father had wished for, but she would be strong for him, for her family, and for her realm.

As the pyre burned, Rhaenyra stood with her sister in her arms, a silent vow forming in her heart. She would honor her mother's memory, and she would ensure that Vaella grew up knowing the love and strength that had defined their mother. The flames roared higher, a testament to the fire that burned within the Targaryen bloodline, a fire that Rhaenyra vowed would never be extinguished.

...

Six months had passed since the tragic deaths of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and King Viserys had made a decision that shocked the realm. He chose to marry Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his Hand, Otto Hightower. This alliance was seen by many as a strategic move to stabilize the kingdom, but it also stirred whispers and discontent among the nobles. In a further surprising move, Viserys named his daughter Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, a decision that defied tradition and set tongues wagging throughout Westeros.

Another year passed, and Queen Alicent gave birth to a son, Aegon. The realm celebrated the birth of a male heir, but the decision to place him in the nursery with Vaella, who continued to grow normally and thrive, added an interesting dynamic to the royal family. Despite Rhaenyra's attempts to give her sister a dragon egg to hatch, Vaella showed no interest in any of them. After several unsuccessful tries, Rhaenyra stopped bringing the eggs, accepting that Vaella was different in her own way.

The connection between Aegon and Vaella was immediate and profound. Vaella's quiet presence seemed to calm the newborn prince, who basked in the comfort of his half-sister's company. This bond often agitated Rhaenyra, who felt a mixture of protectiveness and jealousy. She would frequently 'steal' Vaella away from the nursery, taking her for walks around the Red Keep or in the gardens, much to the dismay and complaints of the servants. Aegon would become fussy and cry until Vaella was returned to him, a fact that both frustrated and amused Rhaenyra.

One sunny afternoon, Rhaenyra and Vaella were walking through the lush gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a serene backdrop. Vaella, now a curious toddler with pale blonde hair and indigo eyes, held tightly to Rhaenyra's hand, her steps wobbly but determined.

"Do you like the flowers, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, kneeling down to pick a bright red rose and handing it to her sister.

Vaella nodded, her eyes wide with wonder as she examined the flower. "Pretty," she murmured, her voice soft and clear.

Rhaenyra smiled, but her expression quickly turned somber. "You know, sometimes I wish things were different," she said, more to herself than to Vaella. "I wish Mother were here to see you grow. She would have loved you so much."

Vaella looked up at her sister, her indigo eyes filled with an understanding far beyond her years. "Mama," she said simply, reaching up to touch Rhaenyra's face.

Rhaenyra's heart ached with the weight of her sister's innocence and the loss they both shared. "Yes, Mama," she whispered, hugging Vaella tightly. "But you have me, and I will always be here for you."

As they continued their walk, they passed a group of servants who were nervously whispering among themselves. One of them, a young maid, approached Rhaenyra hesitantly. "Your Grace, Prince Aegon is very fussy. He won't stop crying without Princess Vaella."

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling the familiar pang of frustration. "He can wait a little longer," she replied curtly. "Vaella needs fresh air and sunshine."

The maid bowed her head, retreating with a worried glance. Rhaenyra led Vaella to a shaded bench under a sprawling oak tree, lifting her sister onto her lap. "You know, Vaella, sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right," she confessed, brushing a strand of hair from Vaella's face. "But when I'm with you, it feels like everything is okay."

Vaella looked up at her with a solemn expression. "Love Nyra," she said, wrapping her small arms around her sister's neck.

Rhaenyra felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away, smiling through her sadness. "And I love you, my sweet Vaella," she whispered. "Always."

As they sat together in the peaceful garden, the bond between the sisters grew stronger, a beacon of light amidst the complexities of court life and the looming shadows of their past. The challenges ahead were many, but in each other's company, they found solace and strength to face whatever the future held.

...

Two years had passed, and Vaella continued to grow normally, blossoming into a lively child. She spent her days in the company of her half-brother Aegon, who refused to be parted from her for long. This inseparable bond often infuriated Rhaenyra, who cherished her moments alone with Vaella but had to contend with Aegon's tantrums whenever his sister was taken away.

Despite Rhaenyra's best efforts, Aegon and Vaella were rarely separated. The young prince's attachment to his half-sister was so strong that the servants, exasperated by Aegon's constant cries, eventually allowed the two children to sleep in the same crib. It was the only way to ensure Aegon's peaceful slumber.

In the royal chambers, Alicent Hightower, now visibly pregnant with her second child, often expressed her concerns to King Viserys about this arrangement. One evening, as she lay in bed with Viserys beside her, she broached the subject once more.

"This is not healthy, Viserys," Alicent said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Aegon is far too dependent on Vaella. They should not be sleeping in the same crib. It's not proper."

Viserys, weary from the day's duties, sighed and rubbed his temples. "They're just children, Alicent. They'll grow out of it. Let them be."

Alicent's eyes flashed with irritation. "It's not just about them growing out of it. It sets a bad precedent. Aegon should be learning to be independent, not clinging to his sister all the time."

Viserys shrugged, clearly not wanting to engage in another argument. "They're happy, and they're safe. That's all that matters."

Alicent opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. Instead, she turned away, fuming silently. Her pregnancy had made her more sensitive to the disturbances in the household, and Aegon's dependency on Vaella was just one of many concerns weighing on her mind.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Rhaenyra watched as Aegon and Vaella played together. Aegon's laughter echoed through the room as Vaella chased him, her own giggles filling the air. Rhaenyra felt a mix of love and exasperation as she approached them.

"Vaella, come with me," Rhaenyra said, holding out her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

Aegon's face immediately crumpled, and he clung to Vaella. "No! Vaella stays here!"

Rhaenyra's patience was wearing thin. "Aegon, you can't always have her with you. She needs to spend time with me too."

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his eyes filling with tears. "No! Vaella stays!"

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing that any attempt to separate them would end in another tantrum. She knelt down and gently pried Aegon's hands from Vaella. "I'll bring her back soon, I promise."

As she led Vaella out of the nursery, the sound of Aegon's wails echoed down the hallway. The servants exchanged resigned looks, knowing it was only a matter of time before Vaella would be brought back to soothe the young prince.

In the gardens, Rhaenyra and Vaella walked hand in hand. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path. Rhaenyra looked down at her sister, her heart aching with a mix of love and frustration.

"Why do you let him cling to you so much, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone softer now that they were alone. "Don't you want to have time just for us?"

Vaella looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Aegon needs me," she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He cries when I'm not there."

Rhaenyra's heart softened at her sister's words. She knelt down to Vaella's level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I know he does, but I need you too, Vaella. You're my sister, and I love you."

Vaella smiled and wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's neck. "I love you too, Nyra. Always."

As they embraced, Rhaenyra felt a renewed sense of determination. She would find a way to balance her love for Vaella with the demands of their unusual family dynamic. No matter the challenges, she would protect and cherish her sister, just as she had promised on that fateful day by the pyre.

Back in the royal chambers, Alicent lay awake, her thoughts troubled. She placed a hand on her growing belly and sighed. The future seemed more uncertain than ever, but she vowed to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and well-being of her children. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind remained filled with the complexities of their intertwined destinies, each step a delicate dance in the ever-shifting sands of power and family.

...

Vaella was six years old, and her fascination with dragons had only grown with time. Despite her lack of interest in dragon eggs, her eyes would light up whenever she saw Syrax, Rhaenyra’s majestic golden dragon. One crisp morning, Rhaenyra decided it was time for her sister to experience the thrill of flying.

Rhaenyra led Vaella to the Dragonpit, where Syrax awaited. The dragon’s eyes gleamed with intelligence as Rhaenyra approached, her scales shimmering in the early morning light. Vaella’s excitement was palpable, her small hand gripping Rhaenyra’s tightly.

“Are you ready, Vaella?” Rhaenyra asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Vaella nodded eagerly. “Yes, Rhaenyra. I want to fly!”

As Rhaenyra helped Vaella climb onto Syrax’s back, the young girl’s laughter filled the air, a sound of pure joy and exhilaration. With a final check to ensure Vaella was secure, Rhaenyra mounted behind her and gave Syrax the signal to take flight.

The dragon’s powerful wings beat against the air, lifting them off the ground. Vaella’s eyes widened in wonder as the Red Keep grew smaller below them, the world unfolding in a breathtaking panorama. The wind whipped through their hair, and Vaella’s laughter echoed in the skies.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon was throwing a fit. He had watched in dismay as Rhaenyra took Vaella away, his cries growing louder with each passing moment. Alicent, now heavily pregnant with her third child, tried to soothe him, but Aegon was inconsolable.

“Where is Vaella?” Aegon wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I want Vaella!”

Alicent knelt beside her son, her patience wearing thin. “Aegon, you need to learn to be apart from Vaella. She has other things to do, and you need to be strong without her.”

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his face red with anger and frustration. “No! You can’t take Vaella away from me! Rhaenyra can’t take her away either!”

In his tantrum, Aegon grabbed one of his toys—a wooden dragon—and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. His screams grew louder, and Alicent’s attempts to calm him seemed only to fuel his rage.

“Aegon, please,” Alicent said, her voice strained. “This behavior is unacceptable. You must learn to control yourself.”

But Aegon was beyond reason, his cries echoing through the halls of the Red Keep. Alicent stood, her hands clenched at her sides, her irritation mounting. She had tried to reason with Viserys about their son’s dependence on Vaella, but he had merely shrugged it off, much to her annoyance.

As Aegon continued to scream for Rhaenyra to bring Vaella back, Alicent felt a surge of frustration. She stormed out of the nursery, determined to find Viserys and make him understand the gravity of the situation.

She found him in the council chamber, discussing matters of state with her father, Otto Hightower, and other advisors. Ignoring the decorum, Alicent marched up to him, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Viserys, we need to talk,” she said, her voice low but fierce.

Viserys looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Alicent, what is it?”

“It’s Aegon,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. “He’s in the nursery throwing a tantrum because Vaella is not there. He’s become too dependent on her, and it’s not healthy. You need to take this seriously.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alicent, they’re just children. Siblings often form close bonds.”

“This is more than that, and you know it,” Alicent snapped. “He can’t be apart from her for even a moment without falling apart. This dependency will only grow if we don’t address it now.”

Viserys looked at her, seeing the worry and frustration etched on her face. He nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll speak with Aegon. But give them time, Alicent. They’re still so young.”

Alicent sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering frustration. “Thank you, Viserys. I just want what’s best for them.”

Meanwhile, high above the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella soared through the skies on Syrax. The city of King’s Landing spread out below them like a tapestry, and Vaella’s eyes sparkled with wonder.

“This is amazing, Rhaenyra!” Vaella shouted over the wind, her laughter infectious.

Rhaenyra smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love for her sister. “I knew you’d love it, Vaella. There’s nothing quite like flying.”

As they flew, Rhaenyra felt a sense of peace. Despite the challenges and frustrations that awaited them on the ground, up here, they were free. She vowed to cherish these moments with Vaella, to protect and nurture her sister as best she could. For now, they had the sky, and that was enough.

...

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella returned from their exhilarating flight on Syrax. The dragon landed gracefully in the courtyard, and Rhaenyra helped Vaella down, her heart still racing from the thrill of their adventure. The moment their feet touched the ground, Aegon came running toward them, his face streaked with tears and his cries echoing off the stone walls.

"Vaella!" Aegon wailed, rushing to her and wrapping his small arms tightly around her. "You’re back!"

Vaella hugged him back, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I’m here, Aegon. I’m here."

Rhaenyra watched, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "Aegon, you can’t just cling to Vaella like that all the time," she said, her tone sharp. "She needs her own space too."

Aegon looked up at Rhaenyra, his eyes filled with defiance and tears. "You can’t take her away from me! She’s mine!"

Rhaenyra’s patience was wearing thin. She knew it was foolish to argue with such a young child, but the possessiveness in Aegon’s voice grated on her. Vaella was the last connection she had to their mother, and the thought of sharing her sister in this way was intolerable.

"Vaella is not yours, Aegon," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice cold. "She is her own person, and you don’t own her."

Aegon’s face crumpled, and he let out another wail, his small body shaking with the force of his tantrum. "No! No! Vaella is mine! You can’t have her!"

The servants in the courtyard exchanged weary glances, clearly exasperated by the scene unfolding before them. Vaella stood in the middle, unsure of what to do, her eyes darting between her sister and her brother.

"Aegon," Vaella said softly, trying to soothe him. "It’s okay. I’m here now."

Alicent, drawn by the noise, arrived in the courtyard, her face set in a mixture of concern and frustration. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her gaze shifting from Rhaenyra to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger as she looked at Alicent. "Your son doesn’t understand that Vaella isn’t his to command," she said sharply. "He needs to learn some boundaries."

Alicent’s expression hardened. "Rhaenyra, he’s just a child. He doesn’t understand these things yet."

Rhaenyra’s temper flared, and she took a step forward. "And he never will if you keep coddling him like this! Vaella is not his to cling to every time he wants. She’s my sister too, and I won’t have her treated like a toy!"

Alicent’s face went pale, and she took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn’t helping anyone, Rhaenyra. We need to find a way to help Aegon understand without making things worse."

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. "Vaella is all I have left of my mother. I won’t let him take her from me."

With that, Rhaenyra turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving the courtyard in tense silence. Alicent watched her go, a sigh escaping her lips. She turned her attention back to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella, his sobs quieter but no less heartbreaking.

"Come here, Aegon," Alicent said softly, kneeling down to his level. "It’s okay. Vaella isn’t going anywhere."

Aegon looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. "But she left me. Rhaenyra took her."

Alicent gently pried his hands from Vaella and pulled him into a hug. "I know, darling. But sometimes Vaella needs to do things with Rhaenyra too. You’ll see her again soon, I promise."

Aegon nodded, sniffling, but his grip on Vaella’s hand remained tight. Vaella, sensing his distress, squeezed his hand back, her expression one of quiet understanding.

Alicent sighed, looking at the two children. "Let’s get you both inside. It’s getting late."

As she led them back into the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of worry. The tensions between Rhaenyra and Aegon were growing, and she knew that unless something changed, these small conflicts could become much larger as they all grew older. For now, she focused on comforting her son and ensuring that Vaella felt secure, hoping that they would find a way to navigate these troubled waters together.

...

Fifteen-year-old Vaella Targaryen sat quietly beside her father, King Viserys I, in his chambers. The room was filled with the intricate model of Old Valyria that Viserys had been painstakingly working on for years. The delicate spires and towers of the ancient city gleamed under the soft light of the candles, casting intricate shadows on the walls. Vaella's small hands delicately placed a tiny bridge between two towers, her face scrunched up in concentration.

Viserys, now looking much older than his years, his health visibly deteriorating, watched his daughter with a fond smile. Despite his efforts to hide it, Vaella knew he was unwell. The signs were clear in the way he moved, slower and more deliberate, and the occasional wince of pain that crossed his features.

"You're doing wonderfully, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice soft but filled with pride. "You have a steady hand."

Vaella smiled up at him, her indigo eyes bright. "Thank you, Father. I love working on this with you."

Viserys nodded, his gaze drifting to the model before him. "It's a piece of our history. A connection to our roots." He paused, then turned to her. "How was your time with your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys?"

Vaella's face lit up. "It was interesting. Maester Mellos was teaching us about Targaryen history, the stories of our ancestors. Then Laenor told us about the great sailors who ventured all the way to the Summer Isles. I love hearing about their adventures."

Viserys chuckled, a raspy sound that ended in a slight cough. "I'm glad you're learning and enjoying your time with them. It's important to understand where we come from." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "And how is Aegon handling the changes?"

Vaella's smile faded slightly, and she frowned, her brow furrowing. "Not very well, Father. He doesn't like it when I'm away. He gets upset and still sometimes throws tantrums."

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon has always struggled with separation. He has a strong bond with you."

Vaella nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know he loves me, and I love him too. But sometimes it's hard. He doesn't understand that I need to spend time with others too."

Viserys placed a gentle hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's not easy being the center of someone's world. Aegon needs to learn that you have your own life, your own interests."

Vaella looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll help him understand, Father. I'll be patient with him."

Viserys smiled, his eyes softening. "You're wise beyond your years, Vaella. Your kindness and patience will serve you well." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "And how are you, my dear? How are you handling all these changes?"

Vaella shrugged slightly. "It's a lot, but I have you and Rhaenyra. And I love spending time with my nephews. They make me laugh and I enjoy learning with them."

Viserys nodded, feeling a pang of pride and sorrow for his young daughter. "You're a strong girl, Vaella. Stronger than you know. Always remember that."

Vaella hugged her father tightly, feeling the frailty in his embrace but also the warmth of his love. "I will, Father. I'll always remember."

...

In a quieter corner of the Red Keep, Aegon paced back and forth, his young face twisted in frustration. His younger brother, Aemond, sat nearby, trying to focus on a book but finding it impossible with Aegon's incessant complaining.

"They took her again, Aemond! They took Vaella to spend more time with Rhaenyra and her bastards," Aegon fumed, kicking at a loose stone on the floor. "They think those boys are more worthy than me!"

Aemond looked up from his book, his blue eyes sharp. "You shouldn't talk like that, Aegon. It's dangerous."

Aegon scoffed, his face a mask of indignation. "Why shouldn't I? Mother calls them bastards all the time. Everyone knows it's true."

Aemond closed his book with a sigh, setting it aside. "Just because Mother says it doesn't mean you should repeat it. It's disrespectful, and it will get you into trouble."

Aegon glared at his brother, his anger unabated. "You’re just jealous because Vaella likes me more than you."

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his annoyance. "Why is Vaella so special to you, Aegon? Why do you always want her around?"

Aegon’s expression hardened. "You're stupid for even asking that, Aemond. She just is. Nobody loves me like Vaella does. She understands me."

Aemond rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "That's stupid. She's just a girl. She can’t make everything better."

Aegon stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "Shut up, Aemond. You don't understand anything."

Aemond shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Maybe I don't. But I heard Maester Mellos talking to Mother once. He said Vaella ate her twin. Maybe that’s why you think she’s so special. She’s got something extra from her dead brother."

Aegon’s face contorted with a mixture of horror and fascination. "What are you talking about?"

Aemond smirked, enjoying the shift in power. "It’s true. Mellos said Vaella didn't cry when she was born, not until her brother died. Maybe she took something from him. Maybe that’s why you feel so close to her."

Aegon stood silent for a moment, absorbing his brother’s words. Then, a twisted smile spread across his face. "Good. If her dead brother gave her something extra, then it's better for me. He would have taken her from me too."

Aemond frowned, not expecting that reaction. "You’re strange, Aegon. You know that?"

Aegon shrugged, a hint of madness in his eyes. "Maybe. But Vaella is mine. And no one will take her from me. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone."

Aemond sighed, shaking his head. "You’re going to get us all in trouble one day, Aegon. Mark my words."

Aegon ignored his brother, his mind already returning to thoughts of Vaella and the frustration of being separated from her. He would find a way to keep her close, no matter what it took.

…

The morning sun cast long shadows over the Dragonpit as Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Aemond, and Vaella made their way to the massive structure. The air was filled with the heady scent of dragon musk and the sound of wings flapping. Inside the pit, three dragons awaited their riders, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. Vaella stood quietly by Aemond's side, the two of them the only ones without dragons to bond with. While Aemond's frustration was evident, Vaella seemed content, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to her younger brother's visible agitation.

As the dragons were led out one by one, Vaella watched with a mix of awe and quiet longing. When Sunfyre appeared, his golden scales glinting brilliantly, Aegon eagerly grabbed Vaella's hand and pulled her along. "Come on, Vaella, let's attend to Sunfyre together."

Vaella allowed herself to be led, her eyes widening as they approached the magnificent dragon. She gently stroked Sunfyre's scales, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. Aegon stood beside her, his pride evident as he showed off his bond with the dragon. Vaella smiled softly, her affection for her brother momentarily overshadowing her usual frustrations with him.

Later, once the dragons were fed and content, Aegon let go of Vaella's hand and turned his attention to Aemond. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that Vaella did not like. Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys huddled together, whispering and giggling before calling Aemond over.

"Come here, Aemond!" Aegon shouted, his voice filled with feigned excitement. "We found a dragon for you!"

Aemond's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and suspicion. He approached cautiously, glancing back at Vaella for reassurance. She gave him a small, supportive smile, but her unease grew.

As Aemond drew closer, the boys stepped aside to reveal a pig adorned with makeshift dragon wings and a painted snout. "Behold, the Pink Dread!" Aegon announced with mock grandeur, barely able to contain his laughter.

Jacaerys and Lucerys burst into laughter, pointing at the pig and doubling over with mirth. Aemond's face turned bright red with humiliation, his eyes welling up with tears. Vaella's expression darkened, her initial amusement giving way to anger.

"Aegon, Jace, Luke, that's enough!" Vaella's voice was sharp, cutting through the laughter. "How dare you humiliate Aemond like this?"

Aegon's laughter faltered as he met Vaella's furious gaze. "It was just a joke, Vaella. We didn't mean—"

"Do I deserve the same?" Vaella interrupted, her voice cold. "I don't have a dragon either. Is this how you plan to treat me too?"

Aegon stumbled over his words, his face turning pale. "No, Vaella, I didn't mean—"

But Vaella had already turned on her heel, her expression stormy as she walked away from the Dragonpit. Aegon rushed after her, desperation in his voice. "Vaella, wait! Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Vaella stopped and spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "You always do this, Aegon. You act without thinking and hurt the people who care about you. Aemond looks up to you, and this is how you treat him?"

Aegon reached out, but Vaella stepped back, shaking her head. "I thought you were better than this."

"Vaella, I'm sorry," Aegon pleaded, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hurt you or Aemond. Please, forgive me."

Vaella took a deep breath, her anger still simmering but her voice softening slightly. "Apologize to Aemond. Make it right with him. And think before you act next time."

Aegon nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I will. I promise."

As Vaella turned and walked away, Aegon stood there, watching her go with a heavy heart. He knew he had to make amends, not just with Aemond but also with Vaella. The bonds of family were fragile, and he had to learn to cherish and protect them.

Inside the Dragonpit, Aemond stood alone, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Vaella approached him, her expression softening. "I'm sorry they treated you like that, Aemond. You deserve better."

Aemond looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Vaella. You're the only one who seems to understand."

Vaella hugged her brother tightly. "We'll find our own dragons one day, Aemond. Until then, we have each other."

As they walked away together, the bond between them strengthened, a promise of loyalty and support in a world filled with uncertainty and strife.

…

That evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, the events of the day weighing heavily on her mind. The candles flickered softly, casting gentle shadows on the walls, as she tried to find some semblance of peace. Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

“Vaella, it’s me,” Aegon’s voice came through the door, hesitant yet determined.

Vaella sighed, already knowing why he was here. “Come in, Aegon.”

Aegon entered, closing the door behind him. He looked uncertain, his usual bravado tempered by a mix of guilt and frustration. “I wanted to apologize again. The idea was Jace and Luke’s, not mine.”

Vaella made a grimace, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why does it reek of you, Aegon?”

Aegon’s irritation flared, and he stepped closer, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care so much about annoying Aemond? He’s just—”

“He’s my brother too, Aegon,” Vaella interrupted sharply, her eyes blazing. “Just like you are.”

Aegon pressed on, his voice lower but intense. “But you love me more, don’t you?”

Vaella frowned, seeing the familiar possessiveness in Aegon’s eyes. It had not diminished with time, if anything, it had grown. “Aegon, I will always love you. But I also love Jace, Luke, Aemond, and even little Joffrey. We’re all family.”

Aegon stepped even closer, their faces now mere inches apart. “But you love me more, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper.

Vaella’s heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a whirlwind of love, frustration, and understanding. She met his gaze steadily, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, Aegon. I love you more.”

Aegon’s tense expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead, a gesture that held both affection and possessiveness. He then began to shed his attire, his movements slow and deliberate. Vaella watched him, her own feelings a mix of resignation and affection.

“Aegon,” she warned gently, “if your mother finds out we’re sharing a bed again, she’ll yell at both of us.”

Aegon shrugged, climbing into her bed with a dismissive smile. “Let her yell. I don’t care. Come here.”

Vaella’s resolve wavered, and eventually, she couldn’t help but smile. She slipped into the bed beside him, the ritual familiar and comforting. They had been sharing a bed since they were babes, a habit that had persisted despite Alicent’s disapproval.

As they lay together, Aegon wrapped his arms around Vaella, holding her close. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his embrace was soothing, a reminder of their unbreakable bond despite the chaos around them.

They didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, they lay in the quiet, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Vaella felt Aegon’s breath against her hair, his hold on her gentle yet possessive. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.

“Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice soft in the darkness. “I promise I’ll never let anyone come between us. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone.”

Vaella sighed, her heart aching with a mixture of love and sadness. “I know, Aegon. And I’ll always be here for you.”

They held onto each other, finding solace in their shared closeness. The world outside might be fraught with tension and uncertainty, but in this moment, they were simply a brother and sister, bound by love and loyalty.

…

Alicent Hightower strode through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, her frustration mounting with each step. She had been looking for her eldest son, Aegon, to confront him about the cruel prank he and Rhaenyra’s sons had played on Aemond. Finding his chambers empty had only intensified her annoyance, as she knew exactly where he would be—once again with his half-sister, Vaella.

Alicent had tried her best to separate the two as they grew older, understanding the potential complications their bond could bring. But no matter her efforts, Aegon always found his way back to Vaella, their connection unbroken. She couldn't help but recall Maester Mellos’ words about Vaella being strange since birth, and the implications of that observation gnawed at her.

Meanwhile, in Vaella's chambers, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to Alicent's rising tension. Vaella and Aegon lay in her bed, still entwined in their embrace. Aegon’s lips trailed down her cheek to her neck, eliciting a soft hitch in her breath. She clutched at him gently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

“Aegon,” she whispered, her voice breathy with both pleasure and concern, “promise me again you won’t mock Aemond like that again.”

Aegon’s kisses paused for a moment as he sighed. “I promise,” he murmured before resuming his tender exploration. His hands roamed over her curves, their touch growing more familiar and intimate with time. His movements against her nightgown became more urgent, her quiet moans filling the room.

Just as Aegon’s urgency peaked and he found release, spilling his seed onto Vaella’s thigh, the door to her chambers swung open. Both Aegon and Vaella sat up abruptly, alarmed and disheveled.

Alicent’s worried frown deepened as she took in the sight before her. She quickly closed the door behind her, her gaze intense. “Did you do it?” she demanded, her voice strained with a mix of anger and fear.

Vaella blushed deeply, realizing the insinuation behind Alicent's question. “No, Mother. We didn’t… we never go that far,” she stammered, her words tumbling over each other.

Alicent sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly with relief, though her irritation remained. She turned her focus to Aegon. “And what about the pig, Aegon? The Pink Dread?”

Aegon deflected, his tone dismissive. “It was Jace and Luke���s idea.”

Alicent scolded him, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You were just as much a part of it.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and lay back on the bed, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered.

Vaella interjected, her voice calm but firm. “I made him promise not to mock Aemond again, Mother.”

Alicent’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Vaella. Despite the tension, she recognized the sincerity in her stepdaughter’s words. “Good. That’s good,” she said quietly. Before leaving, she turned back to them, her expression resolute. “This is the last time you two will share a bed.”

Vaella nodded, understanding the gravity of Alicent’s words but knowing deep down it was a promise neither she nor Aegon intended to keep. “Yes, Mother,” she replied.

Alicent gave them one last look, a mixture of concern and resignation in her eyes, before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Aegon sat up again, his demeanor shifting from defiance to a more contemplative mood. “She won’t keep us apart, you know,” he said softly, reaching out to take Vaella’s hand.

Vaella squeezed his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know, Aegon. But we should be careful.”

He nodded, pulling her closer. “Always,” he promised.

They lay back down together, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. In the stillness of the night, they found solace in each other's presence, knowing that no matter what, they would face the world together.

…

The meeting of the small council was underway in the grand chamber of the Red Keep. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and the tension of unresolved conflicts. Rhaenyra, dressed in her regal black and red attire, sat at the head of the table, her face composed but her eyes betraying the urgency of her thoughts. King Viserys, though visibly weakened by his illness, was present, his presence lending an air of gravitas to the proceedings. Alicent Hightower, her face a mask of controlled composure, sat beside him, her eyes watchful and calculating.

As the discussions turned to matters of succession and alliances, Rhaenyra seized the moment to present her proposal. "To ease the tensions between our families," she began, her voice steady and clear, "I propose that my son, Jacaerys, be betrothed to Helaena. This union would strengthen our family bonds."

A murmur ran through the room, and all eyes turned to Alicent, who clenched her hands in her lap to keep her composure. "And to further show goodwill," Rhaenyra continued, "when Syrax lays her next clutch of eggs, Aemond may choose an egg for himself."

Alicent's face tightened, her distress at the idea of her daughter marrying a boy widely rumored to be a bastard threatening to show. She forced herself to remain calm, her voice measured as she replied. "While your proposal is... thoughtful, Princess, I counter with a suggestion of my own. Let Aegon and Vaella be engaged to each other instead."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger, but she controlled her temper. "That is out of the question," she said firmly. "Vaella deserves more than a life tied to Aegon."

Viserys, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice weak but resolute. "I agree with Rhaenyra. Aegon is my son, but he is not suitable for Vaella."

Alicent's composure slipped for a moment, her eyes blazing with frustration. "You did nothing to sever the link between them, Viserys. And now you dispute this match? How can Rhaenyra's son be good enough for Helaena, but our son is not good enough for Vaella?"

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon is impulsive and lacks the qualities necessary to care for someone as precious as Vaella. She deserves a kind and understanding partner."

Alicent stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "This is not about what Vaella deserves," she snapped, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "This is about your favoritism, your willingness to sacrifice my children’s future for the sake of Rhaenyra's."

Rhaenyra remained seated, her expression unyielding. "Alicent, this is not about favoritism. It's about what is best for Vaella and the realm. Jacaerys and Helaena's union would benefit everyone."

Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, her frustration and anger boiling over. "I will not allow my daughter to be used as a pawn in your game, Rhaenyra. This discussion is over."

With that, Alicent turned and stormed out of the chamber, her mind churning with resentment. How could Rhaenyra's bastard be deemed good enough for Helaena, yet Vaella be too good for her son? The injustice of it all gnawed at her, fueling her determination to find a way to secure her children's future.

Back in the council chamber, an uneasy silence settled over the room. Viserys looked tired, his earlier resolve waning. "Let us continue," he said quietly. "There are other matters to discuss."

Rhaenyra nodded, her mind already moving to the next topic, but the tension from the earlier confrontation lingered. She knew that Alicent's anger was far from quelled and that the coming days would bring new challenges. But for now, she focused on the task at hand, determined to protect her family and secure a future where they could all find peace.

…

Vaella Targaryen noticed the change in the atmosphere of the Red Keep after the birth of her sister Rhaenyra's third son, Joffrey. The castle felt like a simmering pot, ready to boil over. The departure of Harwin Strong and his father, Lyonel, back to Harrenhal only added to the tension. Whispers and sideways glances became more frequent, and the sense of unease permeated the halls.

One afternoon, as Vaella was wandering the corridors, she overheard some of the servants talking in hushed tones. "Did you hear? Princess Rhaenyra is taking her family to Dragonstone."

Vaella's heart skipped a beat. The idea of her sister leaving was unthinkable. She hurried through the winding passages, her mind racing with worry and confusion, until she found Rhaenyra in her chambers, packing her belongings.

"Rhaenyra!" Vaella cried, bursting into the room. "Is it true? Are you leaving for Dragonstone?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her face calm but her eyes betraying the storm of emotions within. "Yes, Vaella. We are leaving."

Vaella felt a lump in her throat. "But why? Father will be devastated. And I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please, you can't leave me here."

Rhaenyra walked over to her sister and placed her hands on Vaella's shoulders. "You know why I must leave," she said gently. "The situation here is becoming untenable. For the safety of my children and myself, we need to be away from the court and its intrigues."

Vaella's eyes filled with tears. She knew the truth about the parentage of Rhaenyra's children, but it mattered little to her. They were her nephews, and she loved them dearly. "But people will talk no matter what you do," she said, her voice trembling. "Why can't I come with you?"

Rhaenyra sighed, her heart aching at the sight of her sister's distress. She pulled Vaella into a tight embrace. "You are so brave, Vaella," she whispered. "But I need you to stay here and look after our father. His health is failing, and he needs someone he can trust by his side."

Vaella clung to Rhaenyra, her tears soaking into her sister's dress. "I don't want to lose you," she said, her voice muffled.

Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, looking into Vaella's indigo eyes. "You won't lose me. We'll write to each other, and I'll visit whenever I can. But you must promise me that you'll be strong and take care of Father. He needs you more than ever now."

Vaella nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility. "I promise," she whispered.

Rhaenyra kissed her sister's forehead, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "You are my heart, Vaella. And I know you will do great things. Stay strong, for both of us."

As Rhaenyra continued to pack, Vaella stood by, feeling a mix of sorrow and determination. The castle felt more oppressive than ever, but she knew that her sister was right. She had to be strong for their father, to be the anchor he needed in these troubled times.

The day Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, Vaella stood beside her father, watching the dragons take flight. The sky was filled with the beating of powerful wings, and Vaella felt a tear slip down her cheek. She glanced at Viserys, who looked frail and weary, a shadow of the king he once was. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Don't worry, Father," she said softly. "I'll be here for you. Always."

Viserys looked down at his youngest daughter, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Thank you, Vaella," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You are my strength."

As the dragons disappeared into the horizon, Vaella felt a sense of resolve settle over her. She would honor her sister's trust and protect their father, no matter the cost.