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#House Of The Dragon story
multific · 1 year
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Padam Padam
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: Your father wished for you to marry Prince Aemond to strengthen the bond between your and his family. What your father didn’t know is that you heard about the Prince before, and you were very interested.
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You swore your heart stopped and then quickened up the moment you saw him.
Aemond Targaryen.
You heard the rumours about his eye, yet all failed to mention the handsome face, the tall figure and the built muscles.
Your father wished for you to marry Prince Aemond to strengthen the bond between your and his family.
It was purely political and yet you couldn't stop staring at him. His handsome face, his beautiful hair, his tall frame and his long fingers, which you were sure could be used for other things than holding a sword.
You didn't say anything during dinner. You mainly observed his family and fantasised about your future husband.
You could faintly hear your father talking to the Queen about the details of your wedding, but your senses were mainly focused on the man sitting across from you.
After dinner, you were ready to head to bed. Sleep off your sinful thoughts, but as you rounded the corner, the same man stood in your doorway, waiting for you.
"My Prince, how may I help you?" you asked as you walked up to him, not looking into his eye.
"Am I truly that repulsive that you refuse to look at me?" his voice was filled with venom and anger.
You should have known that he was cautious about his lost eye.
"Quite the opposite, My Prince." you answered honestly and hoped no one else was there to hear.
"You dare lie to me?!" he almost yelled, but he did raise his voice, which was not appreciated by you. Your eyes met his.
"I will have to ask you to not raise your voice at me. I am to be your wife, not your slave, it is not my fault you don't believe my words. And now, I would like to go and sleep, excuse me." you said as you rounded him.
He just stood there, too stunned to speak. By the time he gathered himself, you already locked yourself into your chambers.
He could only stare at the closed door before he turned to leave.
---
The next morning you woke up, you recalled the events before you got into your bed and you felt both relieved and bad.
You were glad you stood up to Aemond and didn't let him yell at you. But you also feared he might want to call the wedding off.
You felt like you should apologise, but at the same time, you didn't want to.
You didn't want for him to know that it was okay to yell at you. You were not about to have a relationship where you would go insane much like your aunt did.
You entered the hall for breakfast.
"Daughter! Sit next to the Prince." your father said and you obliged.
Sitting down next to Aemond and to your other side was his sister.
After breakfast Aemond's mother asked you to walk you through the castle with you.
Now, you have spoken with the Queen before so you didn't feel as nervous.
You had a feeling that she liked you. Or she really wouldn't let you marry her son. You assumed.
Later that day, you were resting in your room when there was a knock.
"Come in." you looked up from your book and your eyes met with the Prince. "Prince Aemond, how may I help?"
"I came to apologise for my behaviour. Yesterday, I wasn't myself, please forgive me."
"I forgive you, but I will not believe that it wasn't you, My Prince." Aemond looked at you, confused, so you continued. "I believe everything you said you meant, I believe you are holding back always. I can see in your posture. You have some deep regrets and anger inside you. A huge fire is burning inside you, My Prince."
"And you will be the wife of such a man. You might end up getting burnt."
"I sure hope so. If it means the fire is who you really are, Aemond, I wish to see it. All of it."
"How can you say that? Most women run from me, scream even just by the thought of me."
"I suppose you can say, I am not most women." you stood up from your chair, your book on the floor, long forgotten. "I always admired fire, I heard of you, when my father told me, I am to marry you, I felt joy. If what you are saying is true, if women are truly scared of you, then excuse me for admitting this, but at least I can be selfish and keep you all to myself."
"You want me?" he genuinely sounded surprised.
"With everything I have. Anything you are willing to give me, and I will give you myself." for a moment his eyes went over your figure. "I believe that everyone is born to find their pair. I trust my instincts that you, Aemond, are my other half."
"You are speaking nonsense." you smiled softly as you watched the light hit his perfect face. Oh, how you wished to run your fingers through his beautiful white locks. 
"It is okay if you won't believe me now, I am sure you will soon realize I do not lie."
"Did your father put you up for this? Forced you to speak such things?" he was getting angry, you took a step closer and placed your hand on his chest.
"My father would marry me to a goat. I am speaking the truth." his eye searched yours.
But you were no liar.
You meant every word.
You deserved him as much as he deserved you.
You wanted him as much as he wanted you.
And soon, he would realize that he was destined to be yours as much as you were destined to be his.
His lips hang open as he thought.
He looked ever more handsome when he was thinking.
Soon, he moved his head, letting his lips rest on yours.
He wasn't skilled, but neither were you. It was okay.
More than okay.
It was perfect.
Your heart skipped a beat.
Padam padam.
Yes, you were ready to get burnt.
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A/N: This piece was inspired by a song with the same title from Kylie Minogue. Hope you enjoyed it! 
Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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lyrasky · 3 months
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【ハウス・オブ・ザ・ドラゴン】シーズン2第1話ネタバレ あらすじ解説 愛のある者と愛がない者の格差 感想 House Of The Dragon2-1
【ハウス・オブ・ザ・ドラゴン】シーズン2第1話ネタバレ あらすじ解説 愛のある者と愛がない者の格差 感想 House Of The Dragon2-1 クリックしてアマゾンへ #HouseOfTheDragon #ハウスオブザドラゴン #EmmaDArcy #Targaryen #MattSmith #RhysIfans #SteveToussaint #EveBest
待ちに待った【House Of The Dragon ハウス・オブ・ザ・ドラゴン】シーズン2!「ありがたや〜」と見ているとついつい呟いてしまうくらい大好きなアイルランド〜イングランドの昔話のような舞台、セット、衣装、言い回しがお祭り状態なTVシリーズで嬉しくなってしまいます。 皆さんご存知でしょう…こちらの作品は、数々の賞を受賞した【Game Of Thrones ゲーム・オブ・スローンズ】のスピンオフ・ドラマになります。だからこのトラディショナルな雰囲気は当然のことなのですが、その中でもあの作品をただの王冠争奪戦ドラマではなく、より摩訶不思議な世界観にしている1番の要因でもあるダーガリアン家に焦点を当てた壮大なストーリーになっています。 そのシーズン2が放送開始になったので今日は、【ハウス・オブ・ザ・ドラゴン】シーズン2のあらすじや解説を致しましょう。 本家の【Game Of…
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bbygirl-aemond · 3 months
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i love how aegon was like "i'm gonna break the generational cycle of my dad ignoring me by being the best dad to jaehaerys ever" and instead he actually just continued viserys's original generational cycle of ignoring daughters in favors of sons and now one day aegon's going to look at jaehaera when she's the only thing he has left and maybe then he will finally understand why viserys treated rhaenyra with such guilt
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birdmans · 2 months
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022—)
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talesofesther · 1 month
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and still, you have me
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: After everyone has left his side, you go find him.
A/N: A little something to heal our hearts from the finale. Here's a shameless plug of my ongoing series with Aemond, which has similar vibes to this story. <3
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The night was late and quiet, tension high in the Keep as war loomed on the horizon. You'd been walking the lone hallways of the castle for a while now, smiling at each member of the king's guard who bowed their head at you.
You'd decided to leave your shared room with Aemond when the night stretched on and he was yet to show up. Having heard of his disagreement with his mother and sister earlier, you had a hunch he was keeping his distance, denying himself respite as he sometimes did.
However, it took you only a short while to find him. At times you thought he did it on purpose, that he wanted to be found, by the people who cared enough to look.
You pushed open the doors of the council chamber, which was now empty. The long table and stone walls softly highlighted by the golden glow of torches and candles. At the far end of the room, the doors that led to the balcony were open, and there, you found your Prince.
Leaning on the balustrade, Aemond overlooked the immensity of King's Landing under the clear night sky, his long silver hair softly moving with the wind.
You walked closer to him, quiet and careful, taking notice of his tense shoulders and head hanging low. If you had to guess, you'd say his talk with Helaena hadn't gone well.
Aemond straightened his back when he heard you approaching, you could almost feel part of his guard coming up again. Despite the way most people feared him, there was something delicate about him, you knew well. Under so many defenses, he protected a fragile heart.
The Prince took a deep breath in, he still refused to turn around and look at you. "Will you leave my side too, ñuha prūmia?" There was a crack in his voice as he spoke the last of his words.
"Only death could make me do such a thing, my love." You promised in the same breath.
Aemond turned around then, taking the remaining step that still separated the two of you. His eye shone bright under the moonlight, as did the dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He tried hard to keep his face impassive as he raised a hand to touch you but pulled away before he did so.
The turmoil was evident in how he softly furrowed his brows as if his thundering heart caused him pain, in how his lower lip wobbled, and how his eye quickly filled with new tears as he looked at the last person who stood by him. There was fear, guilt, and sorrow as he turned into the lonely young boy he once was before your eyes again.
"And what if-" Aemond stumbled in his words. He gulped, breathing through his nose, "What if the Stranger takes me before he does you? What then?" His voice was low and quiet, as if couldn't bring himself to utter the question any louder.
"Then I shall live the rest of my days in black, mourning the loss of the one I love," you spoke just as softly, gently taking one of Aemond's hands in yours. And he shuddered, you couldn't know if it was because of your touch or because of your words. "Yet glad that I got to share my time with you."
Aemond's lips parted, and the tear in his eye hung by his lashes when he blinked. There were suddenly no walls, he could crumble before you, just like that. His hand gripped yours tighter, and before his tear rolled down his cheek, he closed his eye, leaning forward so his forehead rested on yours. "Nyke ȳdra daor gūrogon ao."
You kissed the words, almost as an act of rebellion, your lips finding the edge of his with lingering affection. "Yn emā nyke mirre keskydoso." Devotion and love dripped from each syllable.
A low hum came from Aemond, and he followed after you once you pulled away, chasing your warmth.
"I will go with you," You spoke with ease, catching his gaze so he saw the sincerity in your eyes.
He kept quiet, with shallow and shaky breaths falling past his lips as he simply looked at you. Yet his hand held yours tight, refusing to let go.
"To Harrenhal. I will fly with you." You brought your free hand up, thumb brushing over Aemond's cheek and drying away the single tear that had fallen.
He closed his eye at your touch, and allowed himself to fall, for you were there to catch him. Aemond leaned his head on your shoulder, both arms coming to circle your waist and pull you against his body.
You held him back, squeezing him to you as your fingers buried in his hair. You could feel his tears dampening the fabric of your dress, could feel his nails digging into it with desperation as if you'd vanish if he didn't hold tight enough.
Aemond had refrained from asking you, because of how close you'd been with Rhaenyra once. Perhaps he lacked the courage to ask you to choose sides and risk losing you. Yet now, as you held his broken pieces together under the stars, he realized you'd chosen his side long ago.
If it would be you and him against the world, then so be it.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
High Valyrian translations: ñuha prūmia = my heart nyke ȳdra daor gūrogon ao = I don't deserve you yn emā nyke mirre keskydoso = but you have me all the same
I no longer make taglists. You can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
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saintlucretia · 2 months
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the feeling when your fictional crush is so wild you can't even defend them:
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ponypickle · 14 days
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I will never not be sad by the de-fangification of our female characters on hotd. we could've had all of them serving cunt and warfare/bloodthirstiness but instead they are all 'peaceful' and everything is the men's fault 🙄🥲.
a cersei-esque alicent dead set on having her kids on the throne at all costs because she believes it's their gods given right, ready to slay everyone who gets in her way
rhaenyra asking her feral husband to eliminate anyone and anything that offends her, like vaemond, a son for a son, etc. stopping at nothing to get HER throne because SHE wants it, not stopping at anything to achieve her goals
rhaenys ready to ride into war for her queen to slay all her enemies instead of feeling bitter as she came across in the show a lot of the time
baela truly being the embodiment of her father in female form, being feral and ready to eliminate everything at once, etc.
oh, the show we could've had if they just weren't scared of the audiences reactions to powerful decisive women that aren't apologetic about their claims to power and what they believe is their's.
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hotdaemondtargaryen · 3 months
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TOM GLYNN-CARNEY AND PADDY CONSIDINE ON INSTAGRAM.
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spiderliliez · 1 month
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ES Magazine The quiet accession of Emma D’Arcy by Evening Standard
[+] EMMA D’ARCY [GIF Collection] ✨ [+] LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈 [+] ..more on this shoot 📸
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komotionlessqueenmm · 3 months
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Cherrywood
(1-2)
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Short story # 19
Gif NOT mine.
Summary - On this night your land experiences the worst storm it's suffered in nearly a hundred years. Amidst the storm came a crashing noise like no other, and curiosity gets the better of you. When you find the source of the commotion, you are stunned to find the Rouge Prince unconscious beneath his fierce dragons wing.
Year posted - 2024
Rating - SFW
Reading time (roughly) - 15 minutes
I haven't watched the show, or read the books. So please excuse any inaccuracies there might be.
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"Easy boy, it's just a storm." (Y/n) murmured softly to her sheepdog, who whimpered and growled with every crack of thunder. She pet behind his ear, hoping to console her loyal dog. While still idly tending to her dinner over the hearth. "I hope Zero is okay." She muttered aloud, thinking of her horse sheltered in the barn. With a particularly loud crack of thunder, Leo whimpered and scurried under the nearby table. "Some guard dog you are." (Y/n) teased her pet playfully, felling sorry for him, but trying to make light of the situation. As she herself was afraid of what this storm would bring, and the damage that was bound to occur as it swept over her orchard. Thunder struck once more, but alongside it came a near deafening crash. "Oh no." Afraid the barn might have collapsed, (Y/n) rushed to grab her cloak. "Stay here." She called back to Leo, before rushing out the door of her cottage and into the storm. Lifting her head just enough to spot the barn, she was relieved to find it standing intact. But what had caused such a noise?
An animalistic yowl of sorts emitted from the shore afar, a sound unlike anything she'd heard before. Curiosity getting the better of her, (Y/n) began her treck towards the beach, wondering what sort of creature could make such a sound. The ground was soft and muddy beneath her boots, causing her to slip every so often, though she maintained her balance enough not to fall into the muck. Again the sound emitted from the beach, much louder now that she neared it's source. All that was left between her, and the creature, was a steep hill. With slow meticulous steps, she made her way up the hill, careful not to slip and fall all the way back down. When she reached the top, she cautiously peered over the top, as another deafening roar ripped through the night air. Her eyes immediately landed upon a mighty red dragon, and she was quick to duck her head back down, fear surging through her body at the sight of the beast. Again it roared and it sounded distressed, perhaps even in pain. "Gods protect me." She whispered softly, going against her better judgment, and peering over the hill at the mighty beast.
This time she observed a saddle strapped to the dragon, and when it shifted, she noticed the sigil for house Targaryen. "Not good, definitely not good." She muttered softly, as she scanned the beach for any sign of the rider. Her eyes quickly snapped back to the dragon, when it again shifted, this time lifting its wing just high enough for (Y/n) to spot the silhouette of someone laying in the sand. Assessing the situation (Y/n) concluded that something must be wrong with the rider, and the dragon was trying desperately to wake them with no success. "I must be crazy." She muttered under her breath as she worked up the courage to stand. Despite her body telling her to run for the hills, (Y/n) rose from her spot, and slowly descended down the hill towards the beast. Before she even reached the end of the hill, the dragons attention snapped to her, growling low in warning. "Definitely crazy." She breathed out quietly, holding her hands up in surrender to the beast. With slow steps she began walking towards the dragon, hoping it would understand that she meant no harm.
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It's nostrils flared, as it bellowed smoke at her, halting her in her steps. "I only want to help, let me help please." She called out to the crimson beast, hoping she wouldn't be burned alive. The dragon shook its head, as if to dismiss the idea. "Their hurt, let me help." She tried again, her heart hammering when the dragon spread out it's wings, which covered the span of the beach itself. "I don't mean you harm, I just want to help." She kept her hands held out, bowing her head a little even, in hopes that it would understand her submission to its power. The dragon once more shifted, and turned its head to the side. It's furthest wing tucking back into its side. While the other wing over their rider remained outstretched. She took slow steps, not wanting to spook the beast into aggression, but wanting desperately to help the rider. When she finally reached them, she wasn't surprised to find that the man was definitely a Targaryen. If his clothes and dragon weren't enough to convince her, the long mane of snow white hair definitely was. His hair lay around him like that of a halo, and (Y/n) found herself stunned by how handsome he was, even drenched to the bone with rain.
She felt the dragons eyes on her, and tried to ignore it as she knelt beside the man. Carefully she pat his cheek, in a vain attempt to stir him awake. Though she suspected that if the loud bellowing roars of his dragon couldn't wake him, she would be just as unsuccessful. That is if he was even alive to begin with. Pulling her hood down, (Y/n) pressed her ear against the man's sternum, trying desperately to hear the rhythmic beating of a heart, over the rain pattering noisily on the dragons wing. Closing her eyes to try focusing better, she slowed her breaths, and strained to listen over the storm. "He's alive." She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard his heart beating steadily. She looked closely over his body, assisting that he had no major wounds that needed immediate tending to. Only to then realize she needed to get him back to her cottage somehow, and soon lest the cold take him while he sleeps. Looking back at the dragon she worried if it was something the beast would even allow. Though it had allowed her to come this close, perhaps even it knows what needs to be done.
She rose from her spot beside the man, removed her cloak, covering him with it, in an attempt to keep him warm. "I'll be back, I promise." She spoke to the dragon, still hoping it wouldn't lash out at her. It blew air out of its nose in her direction, and remained in place guarding its master. (Y/n) took that as her queue and dashed off towards her orchard. She became drenched in no time, shivering from the cold, but she ignored it and kept running home. Once there she made a beeline for the barn, barging in with enough force to startle her horse Zero. She rushed about, finding what she would need in order to transport the man back to her cottage. And old sled from when she was a child, which was designed to be pulled by a horse, was her go to. She also gathered rope and several blankets, before getting Zero's saddle onto him, along with the harness needed to strap the sled to. Once everything was ready, (Y/n) grabbed the spare cloak in the barn, pulled it on, and led Zero out into the storm. After she'd ensured the sled was secure, she pulled herself up onto the saddle, and set Zero into a trot back to the beach. Praying to the old gods and the new to protect her, to let the man still be alive, and to keep his dragon docile.
As she neared the hill Zero began to snort in discomfort and fear, sensing what was beyond the hill. "Easy buddy, we have to do this. Stay with me." She soothed him before ushering him to climb the hill. He neighed and pounded his hoof, before doing as he was told. When they reached the top of the hill, the dragon looked to them, and Zero reared up a little. "Easy Zero easy, it's okay." (Y/n) soothed him once more, her heart pounding noisily in her ears. The work horse snorted and trot in place for a moment, before slowly calming as the dragon showed no aggression. "Come on." She urged him forward, breathing a sigh of relief when he did so without hesitation. The dragon once more turned its head away when they neared, and Zero snorted in displeasure. "It's okay, we'll be okay." She assured him, hoping she was right about that. Once close enough (Y/n) dismounted Zero, and moved back to the man's side. Quickly and carefully she moved him onto the awaiting sled, covering him with several blankets to try and keep him somewhat dry, and clean from the mud Zeros hooves would kick up.
When she was satisfied with her work, she moved to secure several pieces of rope around him and the sled, to ensure he wouldn't fall off at any point during the trip. Certain that they wouldn't come untied or loose, she rose to her feet, gently patting Zero on the side. "Home Zero, take us home." She instructed the horse, remaining beside him to better watch over the man. Zero huffed once and began walking back towards home, his pace slow and calm. (Y/n) watched the dragon cautiously as they began the treck up the hill, hoping it would remain docile and wouldn't suddenly grow aggressive. However her anxiety didn't calm as the beast moved to follow them on foot. Trailing behind them like some massive winged dog, still loyal to its master and refusing to leave his side. Steadying her breathing she tried to focus on the task at hand, subconsciously wondering how in seven hells this all could have possibly happened. She'd heard the stories of the Targaryens, and they were renowned for their skill at dragon riding. Was it merely the storm that knocked them out of the sky? Or was it the work of something else entirely? What would happen if the man dies? Will the dragon kill her for not saving its master? Would the Targaryens kill her for not saving him?
Shaking her head of those thoughts she kept her eyes forward, as they neared her home. Pushing Zeros side a little to guild him to the barn. The dragon walked the opposite direction, making itself comfortable beside the cottage, though still watching (Y/n)'s every move. Quickly she removed Zeros saddle and harness, ushering him into his stall which she latched behind him. Still utilizing the sled, (Y/n) picked up the straps and began hauling him out herself, closing up the barn, then continuing on to the cottage. Luckily the front door was wide, which allowed her to pull the sled straight into the cottage and out of the rain. "Stay." She warned Leo who was still under the table where she'd left him. He wined but complied to her command. Setting to work (Y/n) removed the ropes and blankets, and even removed the top layers of the riders clothes. Knowing he needed to get warm, and into dry clothes before the cold could set in and make him sick. Thinking momentarily about the things her mother had taught her, she determined that it would be best for his health, if she just removed all of his wet clothes.
Before doing so she pulled the sled closer to the hearth, so he could get warm and dry off faster. Uncomfortable with the thought of a naked man she didn't even know laying unconscious in her home, she found a clean dry cloth and covered his modesty. "Leo come." She called to her sheepdog, who rushed to her side and followed her into her room. Closing the door behind her, (Y/n) quickly shed off her own wet clothes, dried herself with clean linen, and redressed into dry clothes. "Stay." She told Leo before she left the room, closing the door behind her for good measure. Afterwards she made her way to the room her and her brother shared when they were children, finding a decent pair of trousers tucked away in a chest. With those in hand she made her way back to the main part of the cottage, assessing the man to see if he was dry. Determining he was plenty dry, she worked to get him changed into the trousers, relived to find that they fit him just fine. Noticing the bruises on his ribs she retrieved a healing salve she made herself, gently rubbing a generous amount onto all the places she found bruises and scratches. Aside from those he seemed relatively unharmed. Again she walked off to her childhood room, retrieving a loose top from the same chest as before.
And before leaving the room, she assessed the only remaining bed within the room. It was a little dusty, but it would have to do for the night. She pulled the furs from the bed, and replaced them with cleaner furs. Flipping over the pillows she hoped it didn't smell musty, and the man would simply appreciate that she even helped him at all. Satisfied with her work, she grabbed the shirt, and made her way back to the man. Dressing him in the shirt with a gentle touch, she wondered who exactly this man was. Judging by his exquisite clothes he had to be a Targaryen of some importance, although most of them as far as she knew were of great importance. Mustering her strength, and bracing herself, (Y/n) carefully hauled the man up from the sled. And carried him as best she could to the bedroom she intended on letting him use. When she reached the room, she fell backwards onto the bed with an exhausted huff, groaning at the added weight of the man now laying on top of her, with his back against her chest. Carefully she maneuvered her way out from under him, then pulled him the rest of the way onto the bed. Afterwards tucking him under the fur covers, then leaving to rest by the hearth for a while.
After eating her dinner, (Y/n) determined that his clothes would need to be cleaned soon. Securing her cloak around her shoulders, she rushed out into the rain. Her heart jumping at the sight of the sleeping dragon, having forgotten about its presence until now. Swallowing the lump in her throat she made her way to the well, gathering several buckets of water over the span of several minutes. And filling a large cauldron over the hearth to warm the water in order to properly clean the clothes. When the water was sufficiently warm, she transferred the water from the cauldron into the washbasin. Thoroughly cleaning the clothes with care as to not cause them any damage, but get them sufficiently clean and tidy. She worked into the small hours of the morning, cleaning the clothes, and hanging them near the hearth to dry faster. Afterwards she cleaned the mess from doing laundry, and the small mess she'd made earlier in the day while preparing dinner. Lastly she cleaned up the mess made from the muddy sled she'd dragged into her home. By the time she was finished, the sun was beginning to rise, the storm subsiding a short while ago. And in that time she'd accidentally fallen asleep sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall across from the hearth.
While she rest soundly in the main room of the cottage, Daemon began to stir awake. Hissing in discomfort at the stinging pain in his sides, and the dull throb of his head. He felt hungover, and as if he were half on deaths door. Regardless he opened his eyes, blinking away the drowsy need to close them again. Realizing quickly that he didn't know where he was, or how he got there. Clearly it wasn't the castle, and the more he tried remembering the night before, the more confused he was. He remembered arguing with his brother, about something trivial, and then taking Caraxes for a ride. Then he remembered the storm, he remembered flashes of lightning nearly striking them out of the sky. And he remembered falling for what felt like an eternity. He quickly rushed out of the bed, trying to ascertain where he ended up. Barging out of the room, he half expected to be in a tavern or maybe even a brothel. And he was admittedly a tad bit surprised to find himself in a quant cottage instead. He wandered around the room, only realizing he wasn't in his own clothes, when he saw his hanging near the hearth. Peering around the hearth he finally spotted his host, sound asleep and looking exhausted.
He wondered how longs she'd been awake, and if she had been the one to bring him into her home. Caraxes made a noise from outside, startling the woman awake, which made Daemon smirk softly. "You're awake!" She breathed out in near astonishment, quickly standing from her spot on the floor. "Who might you be?" He asked her, committing her face to memory. "(Y/n) Voss, my lord." She bowed her head respectively. "I am no mere lord, sweetling, I am Prince Daemon Targaryen." He held his head high, smirking again at her clear surprise. "My Prince." She bowed more respectively, but Daemon waved it off. "Daemon will suffice." He hummed watching her closely as she relaxed before him. "How did I get here?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "I brought you here, I found you on the beach last night during the storm. Your dragon... It made quite a commotion, and I went to investigate." She looked almost bashful, making the Rouge Prince smile. "And he let you bring me here?" He inquired curiously. "It took some convincing, but he's a smart creature, and I think he knew I only wanted to help you." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You must be a special creature to gain the trust of a dragon so quickly." Daemon mused with a grin, loving the faint blush that dusted her cheeks.
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Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️
(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)
Part two ->
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acertifiedmoron · 2 months
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seeing some prophecy discourse which has once again reminded me why i personally find the prospect of dany as the prince that was promised really compelling. and it makes the targaryens so much thematically richer. like, they only survived the doom through the power of prophecy and then the visions marked them forever and this thing, this blessing which gave generations of targaryens some existential meaning eventually morphed into a curse which brought so many of them great misery—"my brothers dreamed of dragons too, and the dreams killed them, every one." (aemon, affc) and in due course almost ended their line once again with rhaegar. but then dany happened.
almost four hundred years since the doom when prophecy saved them and nearly killed them again on the trident, dany was born. dany who carries echoes of all her targaryen ancestors within her. she's aegon the conqueror come again but she's also maegor the cruel when she promises the khals who had hurt her khalasar would die screaming. she's rhaenyra in her struggles to wield power and establish legitimacy as a woman, she shares her sense of egalitarianism with egg, and she drinks from the cup passed from rhaegar, i.e. inherits (what he once thought of) his narrative destiny to help defend the realms during the long night.
dany who is both their beginning, since she's the first targaryen created and introduced to us on page and the narrative end point of their dynasty. which reflects all the way into her arc being cyclical by design as it calls back to the foundation of the valyrian empire in essos—during the fifth war the freehold torched old ghis with dragonfire so nothing would grow there again and centuries later this girl, the last dragon, is going to help plant trees there again. it's not about retreading old ground or rejecting her house words but about redefining what it means to be the blood of the dragon. which is not to say all that came before her was meaningless since this recontextualisation is only possible through the three centuries of ancestral history weighing on her. and dany's very existence echoes back in time because the prophecy itself has influenced the lives of generations of targaryens. three hundred years of history, all the glory and the horror concentrated in this one person-point. the prince that was promised not simply as a figure of the long night but as someone who is the apotheosis of their house. dany as both their beginning and their end, because the iron throne is presently a symbol of stagnation, a world in stasis, and it has to go. no restoration, instead the old world dying in fire and a new world being born in the aftermath.
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multific · 1 year
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Push and Pull
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: A couple of months ago you were arranged to marry Aemond Targaryen. The Princess of the East they called you, somehow you fell in love at first sight with Aemond. But now, your insecurities come forward regarding the woman from his past.
Aemond was beyond confused.
Just that morning, you told him how you never wished to be his wife.
And now, there you stood, crying your heart out as you kept going on about Alys.
Aemond would be a liar if he said he didn't love Alys, he sure did. His relationship with her however had to end when his mother announced his marriage to the Princess of the East. 
Aemond broke off his interest with Alys the moment he was told he would marry someone.
He didn't wish to bring suffering to a woman. While he did love Alys, he knew his duty as a prince.
Then you arrived.
And what a lovely Princess you were. Much like him, you were reserved and he often found you with your nose in a book. 
Your beauty took his breath away.
You were much like him, yet so different.
Aemond learned that you were the fourth child in your family, meaning no one really took care of you.
All your siblings were boys.
But nothing broke Aemond's heart more than seeing you cry so much.
"I know you wouldn't even look my way if it wasn't for our marriage. I know I will be never her." you whispered the last part.
It made Aemond move.
He was now standing in front of you, he grabbed your hand as your other hand grabbed his wrist, afraid he would hurt you.
"I do not want you to be her. I want you to be you. Princess of the East. My Wife. As you are. I do not want you to suffer."
But it was clear, you didn't believe him.
And he was not blaming you for it.
Everyone often reminded you just how beautiful Alys is, how much Aemond loves her.
"I will not lie to you, I do have feelings for her, but I also have feelings for you. You are my wife, the woman I will live with for the rest of my life. I wish to have a great relationship with you. So we could try and be happy."
Aemond let go of your hand but you didn't let go of his. Holding his wrist, he felt you pulling him closer.
Your other hand came up to his shoulder and started to push him away.
Pulling him and pushing him at the same time. 
It was confusing. 
He was confused.
You could see it in his eyes.
"I want nothing more than for us to be happy. But I refuse to live in the shadows of another woman. Refuse to be a second choice because I know you would go running back to her the moment you would be allowed to. Your duty keeps you here, your mother keeps you here. If I cannot be the only one you love, I don't wish false promises of happiness from you." Aemond looked straight into your eyes, his free hand moved to remove his eyepatch.
He honestly thought you might get scared or disgusted but no, you didn't even blink as you looked into his eye and the sapphire which replaced his lost eye. 
"I want to have you as you are. You are my wife. You are my only love. I do not wish to have anyone else. She is the past, you are the present and future." he tried to take a step but your hand on his chest pushed him, while your other on his wrist pulled him.
It was clear to him, you were conflicted.
You wanted to be held by him but you were also scared of empty promises.
He understood, bringing your hand to his lips he kissed the back of it.
"I swear on my dragon's and my own life. I am not lying when I say these words to you, Y/N." suddenly your hand on his shoulder stopped pushing. Instead, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him close with both of your hands, arms moving around him, Aemond hugged you back.
You really hoped you didn't make a mistake by trusting him.
You really hoped he was not lying.
You weren't sure what you would do if you found out that he did.
But somehow, as his breath tickled your neck and he pulled you close, smelling your hair, you had a feeling he really wasn't lying. 
He will have you as you are, his perfect wife. And you will have him as he is, a great husband who promised you the sky and the stars as he pulled you in for a kiss.
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tweedfrog · 2 months
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The Rubicon Theory of War // Plutarch's Life of Caesar // Seutonius' Lives of the 12 Caesars // Treason - 1911 Encyclopaedia Britannica
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coffeebooksrain18 · 9 days
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The way I've seen people say shit like "well he's entitled to his Headcanon I guess." As they're talking about GrrM as he talks about HIS STORY! Like it's not a Headcanon my guy, it's the author telling you the facts. You don't need to like it, but that doesn't change the facts.
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the-daily-dreamer · 14 days
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Well well well… GRRM confirmed team 💚? ✔️✅✔️✅
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GRRM SAID HELAENA THE BELOVED & RHAENYRA THE REVILED
I DONT WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE MAESTER THEORY. GRRM HIMSELF CONFIRMED RHAENYRA WAS HATED AND ITS NOT HISTORY WRITTEN BY THE WINNERS OR BY ANTI-TARG MAESTERS.
GRRM wrote this story to show that both sides were capable of evil and corruption, both sides had innocents who paid the price, and BOTH sides had a reason to fight. The reduction and changes by the writers to preserve the image of team black has even disappointed the creator of this universe! Because important character traits and plot lines have been destroyed and lost their impact and for what?
To push a “feminist” narrative of a toothless heroine in Rhaenyra. As opposed to a real story about the cost of power and war.
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talesofesther · 30 days
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I'll crawl home to her
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: Tales of Aemond's love for you.
A/N: In Ewan's words; the only thing that can beat Aemond is love. If you like this story, you'll like my ongoing series too. ;)
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Aemond loves you behind closed doors.
He loves you with the way his pinky hooks around yours under the tables, during supper and council meetings.
He loves you with subtle looks and barely there smiles across rooms filled with people where he can only see you.
He loves you when he comes back tasting of heartache and guilt, with raindrops or tears staining his cold skin and clothes clinging to his body. When he stumbles into your room whispering sins against your embrace only for you to kiss the words, kiss his cheeks, kiss his scar, kiss the tears away. He clings to your body, your nightgown nearly ripping with his desperation.
But it's alright, because there's only you and him and the soft light of the candles in your room. It's alright because you cradle his head, fingertips burying between wet silver locks. It's alright because you whisper forgiveness into his ears, even if he feels undeserving.
And maybe war is now inevitable, but for a fraction of a moment, Aemond feels entirely at peace.
He loves you when you watch him from afar and notice the stiffness of his shoulders, the tapping of his fingers on the table. And then you'll find an excuse to call his name and get him away from the crowds, asking for some help with something mundane. You lace your fingers together, loose and yet so present. You take a familiar route through a lone hallway, you open the doors to the library hidden away in the confines of the Keep, pull him in, and close it again.
Aemond falls to you, his forehead is leaning against yours, his eye is closed, and he can breathe. You feel like fresh air. He nuzzles his nose to yours before asking for a kiss, it's all timid and bashful, he's not sure how to love yet, all he knows is that he feels it, insistent and warm; all-consuming.
But you hold his cheeks, you guide him, you teach him. Your fingers are in his hair and your soft lips touch the corner of his mouth; all delicate and devoted, Aemond doesn't know what to do with this much love, he might crumble.
His hands are around you, all over, and he's almost afraid to hurt you; even if you promise time and time again that he could never. Aemond sighs against your lips, and it sounds a lot like; "I am yours."
He loves you because there is no need for words with you. When he holds himself back from going to you all day—between planning for a war he's fighting alone and hearing his own mother talk of him as if he were a monster—the arrival of the night feels like a reprieve. It's the moment he waits for the most, for he can lay down his armor.
Aemond walks by the garden, picking up a single blue flower. He hides it away as he walks to your chambers, no one needs to know—even if everyone already knows anyway. He gives you the blue flower, with pink on his cheeks; he feels like a young boy in love—perhaps he is.
You kiss him, sweet and soft and tasting like the blueberries you stole from the kitchen earlier. And Aemond could cry, because if he has you, he's not alone.
You're the one who takes off his eyepatch, and then his coat, and his pants, and pulls loose his hair—you brush your lips over his shoulders when you do it, and he knows no one could love him the way you do. There's nothing sexual about it even if you're the muse of all his desires. He simply lays with you in bed, his head on your chest, and you trace the outlines of his body as you speak about your day. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he loves to hear you speak, about anything and everything, it soothes his troubled soul.
It's quiet, and Aemond falls asleep with the feeling of you braiding his hair. It'll be a little curly in parts when morning comes. He never minds it.
And he loves you with the way he won't be able to speak the three words. But he'll trace and kiss them on your skin every single night. And you understand, because you always say them back.
He loves you because of the way you sometimes hold the tip of his fingers with yours behind your backs.
He loves you with the way he'll threaten death to anyone who looks at you wrong.
He loves you with the way he could burn the whole world and yet not let a single flame touch your skin.
He loves you because you'll kiss his lips even if he tastes of blood and war.
He loves you because you'll hold his pieces together when everyone else is trying to tear him apart.
He loves you because even in the darkest of days, you're always there in the end.
He loves you because you are the one who taught him what love feels like.
He loves you because even if you exchange nothing but glances when amidst other people, you'll embrace his very soul in private.
He loves you because you wait with bathed breath when he takes Vhagar to the skies, and never think twice about mounting on a horse to gallop towards the woods outside of King's Landing when you spot the dragon's large silhouette bringing him back.
You jump from the white horse, Aemond jumps from Vhagar, and you meet each other in the middle. He holds you close in a needy embrace, as if each minute could be the last. And when you pull back, you don't ask questions or make demands, you simply run your thumbs over his cheekbones and breathe easiness into his skin. The feeling of you is always like coming home.
Amidst a world of war, you're a safe haven.
Aemond loves you behind closed doors. Wholly, truly, passionately. And with all of him that no one else is allowed to see.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
I no longer make taglists. You can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.
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