#I looked at Aegon and Viseryes and I was SOFT

[otomelavenderhaze]

Not me looking at Rhaenrya's and Daemon's child like they're my own, and not me feeling so proud of Luce, Jace, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena of how they're good kiddos <3

I can't say the same about Alicent's, but I will say, someone save Helaena, my poor angel.

[sullyglcw]

hi could you do a rhaenyra x reader angst where reader is considering breaking up with rhaenyra since she’s about to be queen but rhaenyra finds out? thank you!!

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 - Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

pairings - rhaenyra targaryen x Fem!Reader

non/request - requested

warnings - mentions of homphobia , mentions of aegon , implied smut , arranged marriages , incest , mentions of death , possibly real shitty high valaryian

summary - after hearing about the death of the king you decide it is best to leave the red keep, scared of rumours spreading about you and rhaenyra and jeprodising her place as queen .

i do not give anyone to copy or translate my work , if insparation is taken from my post @ me and give credits, thank you for reading .

King Viseryes was dead, the news was spread in the early morn. You knew what this meant, Rhaenyra was to be crowned queen. that was unless the greens got their way, some part of you hoped that they did.

It was certainly a selfish thought but with good reasoning. If the greens were to get their way you and rhaenyra would get your peace, she would be yours and you would be hers but even without her being queen, that was an almost impossible wish.

Your hand glided across the spired scales of syrax, Rhaenyra's mount and a being you considered yourself to be close with. Your thoughts drifted back to the dragon rides you shared with your beloved Nyra, as you nicknamed her, the first time scared the living daylights out of you but towards the end, you felt free. The tiny world beneath at your fingertips. That was how Rhaenyra made you feel, Free.

"emā kȳvana naejot henujagon?" (you have plans to leave?) The voice that usually left you with comfort now made you feel nothing but sorrow and mourning.

She stood behind you, tall and regal, but you sensed she was feeling anything but. Her voice was raspy as if she had been crying and when you turned her fingers were intertwined, rubbing her own palm as if to give herself comfort.

"i gaomagon, iksan daor longer jorrāelatan kesīr. " (i do, i am no longer needed here.) You replied, daring to turn your head to glance on her. She looked as beautiful as the first time you saw her, if not more so.

"I need you here." vulnerable, a quality of Rhaenyra's that was hardly shown to anyone but you

Rhaenyra stepped forward to take your hands in her shaky ones, they were cold, contrasting to your warm ones. A quality she loved about you.

But you couldnt stay, you couldnt bare to watch as she took thr throne with Daemon at her side, her uncle who had an admiration and love for Rhaenyra throughout the years had managed to steal her from you, you were left with nothing.

Her eyes bored into yours as you spoke again "You are to be queen Rhaenyra, I cannot sit by and watch as he reigns beside you."

The queen to be looked down at the stone strewn ground. For once she was lost for words, when she finally looked up again her forehead connected with yours.

So many words were spoken and feelings were shared in this moment without any speach.

A hand cupped your face and soft lips met yours, moving at a soft slow pace. Both savouring what would be their last moment together. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

You pulled away slowly, as if when your lips left hers you would die, like she was poison, an addiction you would die without her.

"i jaelagon ao sȳrī, ñuha mērī jorrāelagon." ("i wish you well, my only love.") That was the last word she spoke to you before you watched as her figure turned and retreated, you swear you saw a tear in her eye.

Your heart broke and as a tear slipped out of your own eye, you whispered ,

"i jorrāelagon ao. " (I love you.)

[written-in-flowers]

Aemond x tall, strong, athletic, and snarky Baratheon girl. She’s famous for skills in archery and wrestling. Aemond sees her as a challenge like Vhagar and challenges her to a wrestling match

The Young Stag

They called her “The Young Stag”, because not only was she her father's daughter, but also for her strength and skill in combat. A well-trained archer, Lady Sienna could loose arrows on horseback, from trees and on her feet. With her famous sword, Stormbringer, Lady Sienna moved in quick, fluid motions around her enemies, dodging and countering their attacks. But, the thing she did best was wrestling. A leggy girl with strong arms, Sienna was known for grappling, rolling and pinning squires and stableboys to the ground. She certainly hurt the pride of any lordling who'd visited the Baratheon stronghold, Storm's End.

One of the so-called 'Five Storms', the oldest of Lord Borros's daughters showed no interest in marriage.

"I prefer to fight these men, rather than be chained to one forever."

When her lady mother and lord father expressed that as the eldest, she'd marry first, she protested hotly. Most of the men who visited Storm's End were "green boys and greying men who couldn't find their backside with two hands". Lord Borros matched his daughter's heat with his own, telling her it was her duty to their house to find a husband suitable for marriage. Lady Elenda, her mother, gently suggested she pick a man closer to home. Yet, it'd been her youngest sister, Maris, who made her seen reason. She'd cornered her sister in the castle training yard, watching her whittle new arrows, and spoke with her at length. Just because she'd be getting married did not mean she must give up all she loves. Perhaps she'd find a man who liked rowdy women who could outride, out shoot, and wrestle them. Sienna doubted this highly, but due to her love for her family, she agreed to consider her suitors.

Lord Dondarrion's son, Auster, complimented the lady's soft black curls and said her eyes resembled blue sapphires. Sienna only rolled her eyes, and said he resembled a horse.

Lord Gower's son foolishly proclaimed her reputation was all talk. Noble ladies had no place in a training yard or on horseback in the forest. Sienna swung her fist into his jaw.

Lords came far and wide to try marrying a Baratheon girl in hopes of making an alliance with them. One night, Lord Borros, deep in his cups, exclaimed that Sienna would marry the next man who visited their keep. She scoffed. She told her father she'd marry a man on one condition: he could beat her in wrestling. The drunken lord laughed, and said she'd have her terms. Plenty of houses lived in The Stormlands; all had strong, capable sons. Eventually, one of them would get the best of her.

Then, the Dance happened. Targaryen turned against Targaryen, and Lord Borros figured it was only a matter of time before one of the parties came asking for his support. On a over casted day, it'd been Prince Aemond, son of old king Viseryes, who arrived at their gates. White silver hair flowing down his back, his left eye covered by a leather eyepatch, the young prince stood tall and lean. Lord Borros welcomed the prince into his hall, introducing him to his lady wife, and five daughters. Sienna had heard of Aemond's dangerously deadly skills, and his cold, unfeeling demeanor, but was not impressed in the slightest. Her sisters, of course, were very interested in him. Not because of his looks. No, Prince Aemond's missing eye and the horrendous scar on his face sickened many ladies at court. Lady Sienna only showed interest in the eye, wanting to see the sapphire he put in place of his real eye.

After a lengthy discussion during a feast, Lord Borros said he would give Aegon his support if Aemond married one of his daughters. Cassandra would be the first to flower, but Floris was the prettiest. Maris, not as comely as her sisters, was put forward after the prince rejected her; Ellyn, third oldest, showed off her dancing and singing abilities, hoping to enchant Prince Aemond. The possibility of being a princess, or potentially a queen one day, intrigued the Baratheon daughters. Yet, Aemond had no interest in any of them. During a hunting party one day, Aemond was surprised when Lord Borros's eldest daughter came riding up to them with a bow and sling of arrows. Lord Borros told the prince he did not approve of his daughters participating in manly sports, but his eldest could not be tamed. Rather than be appalled by the lady's ability to shoot down a wild turkey, it intrigued him. Watching her walk her horse, a mustang named Greenleaf, into the stables, he asked Lord Borros if anyone had taken Sienna’s hand. 

“Sienna? Ha, Your Grace, my daughter has bested every man who has come asking for her hand. I have tried giving her to every lord I can muster, but no man wishes for a woman who can crack his pride.”

Aemond pondered over this. So, the Young Stag needed taming? That excited him. 

“You’re quite good with that bow, my lady.” He’d caught her in the shooting range, wearing breeches and a jerking over a white shirt. He’d heard she never wore gowns during her activities. His eyes scanned over her strong body, wondering what it’d take to have her. “I was impressed how quickly you took down that bird.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, aiming her next arrow at the target and letting it fly at the center. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“As your father has told me.”

Sienna stopped shooting and turned to him. The realization came to her immediately, “He’s offered me to you.”

“No,” he leaned against the fence around the range, “I asked him.”

“As if,” she scoffed. “Men like you don’t want women like me. You’ll do better with Floris. She’s pretty. She’ll give you good looking children.”

“Who are you to assume what I want or don’t want?” he asked. “What if I want strong, atheltic children who bring honor to my house?”

“You don’t need honor, Your Grace. Your family has dragons. I think that shows enough strength already.” She walked to the target and began pulling out the arrows on the target cloth. “I saw your beast when you flew here. Vhagar is truly as enormous as they say.” 

“She is a formidable creature, yes.” He moved into the range, coming closer to her. His one eye looked her over. “It wasn’t easy to tame her, but I mounted her in the end.”

Sienna smirked, and laughed softly. “Am I a creature you wish to tame and mount?”

Oh, he’d certainly love to mount her. “I like a challenge,” he shrugged. 

“Challenge, huh?” she said, putting her arrows in the slot next to her. She observed him quickly. Broad shoulders slimmed down into a tiny waist. She imagined once a woman got over his eye, they found the rest of him quite tempting. Sienna only saw a man she’d like to wrestle to the ground. “Do you wrestle, Your Grace?”

“I do.”

“Do you wish to marry me over my sweet, soft sisters?”

“I’ve considered it.”

“Well, if you wish to take me as your wife, you must pass on challenge.”

“Oh?”

“Beat me in a fight.”

Aemond snickered, turning his head to hide it, “In a fight?”

“Yes. Best me in a wrestling match, and I’ll marry you.”

He crossed his arms, “What if I win and you still reject me?”

“I never go back on my word, Your Grace. My man, Tom, will oversee the match and be a fair judge,” she nodded to the portly man with a large arms, belly and mustache. “Wrestle me, and I’ll be yours.”

He paused. What sort of woman gave such terms for marriage? None that he knew, and it interested him. He stuck out his hand, “Agreed.”

She shook his hand, her slender fingers clasping his own tightly, “Agreed.”

Tom nodded silently, and led the pair to a boxed off area on the other side of the grounds. Two squires currently sparred in the middle to the cheers of the people around them. Sienna strutted to the ring, and stood at the fence to watch the match. She was Vhagar, Aemond thought to himself. A beautiful, ferocious beast that could not be tamed. He didn’t know if he wanted to tame her. He somewhat liked the idea of going on hunting parties with his wife; sparring in the courtyard and riding on horseback with her. The women in King’s Landing didn’t act as Sienna did. Baratheon women were clearly a different breed. 

The squires finished their match, dirt and mud smeared on their clothes and bodies. When they left the ring, both Aemond and Sienna stepped in. Tom followed them, calling to the group at large. 

“We have another challenger this morning, lads!” he called. “On one side, we have Aemond of House Targaryen, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.” This garnered some cheers from his followers. “On the other, the Young Stag herself, Sienna of House Baratheon!” More cheers and jeers followed. “I want a good clean fight,” he told the pair, as they readied themselves for the match. When both sides were ready to go, bent over with hands out, “And...fight!”

Both parties slammed into each other immediately. Sienna put all her strength into pushing the prince off her, so she may grapple him in the middle. But, he proved stronger than he looked. The people around them shouted advice and encouragement as they both fell onto the ground. Sienna straddled the man’s middle at one point, only to be kneed in the back and rolled onto her back. The dirt and mud on the ground did not bother her in the least. Prince Aemond and Lady Sienna both grappled, pushed, and rolled around on the ground like two beasts...two dragons. Soon, they gained the attention of Lord Borros, who stood by the gate with an amused smile. He watched the young man lift his daughter from the ground and slam her down into the ground before she wrapped her legs around him, and put her thighs around his upper body like a serpent. She almost had him. 

Almost. 

A few minutes more, and Tom declared Prince Aemond the winner. Lady Sienna sat in the mud, panting and sore from their match, eyes narrowed up at the blond man. His clothes stained with dirt, he stood over her triumphant and sneering. 

“Looks like we have a betrothal!” called Lord Borros, his men cheering with him. 

“My lady,” Aemond offered his hand and lifted her from the ground. “You fought well,” he grinned, living on the high adrenaline still pumping in him. 

“As did you, Your Grace.”

Lord Borros celebrated his daughter’s betrothal (or defeat, in Sienna’s eyes) with a grand feast. Sienna dressed in a gown of pale blue with sapphire jewels on her ears and around her neck. She sat sulking, drinking from her wine cup and picking at her food. Her sisters chattered around her, envious that she’d get to live in King’s Landing and getting to be a princess by marriage. Sienna did not respond. She merely moped and casted glances over at the prince, who haggled doweries and dates. She thought about how the prince easily manhandled her on the ground, his body as lithe and flexible as hers. She’d never met a man like him. He was not soft or slow. He appeared intelligent enough. As Ellyn told her, he was a dragonrider, which could not be easy. 

“You look beautiful tonight, my lady.”

He came over to her after speaking with her father, taking the empty seat beside her. 

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Your father wishes for us to be married as quick as possible.”

“Because he’s afraid I’ll run away.”

“Would you?”

“No. I told you, Your Grace, I do not back down from my word. You beat me fair and square.” She gazed over his face and landed on his eyepatch. “Can I see it?”

“See what?”

“Your eye. Your men say you put a real sapphire in there. It’s why my mother told me to wear this,” she showed him the teardrop jewel around her neck. Aemond couldn’t help noticing it rested an inch from her bosom. “Can I see?”

He stiffened. “It’s not pleasant.”

“I don’t care.” She saw his apprehension, then said, “We can go somewhere private.”

The suggestion gave him pause. “Alone?”

“If you wish,” she said. “I’m going to be your wife. I think I should be allowed to see it...and anything else you wish me to see.”

He thought about it. “It’s not appropriate,” he proclaimed, simply happy to deny the woman something, “Perhaps once we’re married.”

“Afraid it might scare me off?” she pursed her lips in objection. 

“No,” he shook his head, taking up his wine cup for a drink, “I like seeing you not get what you want.” He saw the dancers on the floor in front of the dais. “Do you dance?”

“I do.”

“I’m terrible at it.”

“Something I can beat you at?”

He laughed, “Will everything in our marriage be a contest? Will you challenge me to an archery contest on our wedding day? I can bed you if I can outshoot you?”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” she giggled. ‘Come,” she stood up from her seat, “I’ll show you.”

He took her hand and followed her. Lord and Lady Baratheon watched their eldest girl, their first born daughter, walk onto the dance floor with her prince, and begin dancing. Her sisters looked on with slight envy that the boldest, tomboyish of their lot managed to marry a prince. 

The Young Stag hadn’t been tamed, but rather bonded to the dragon rider. 

****

A/N: thank you so much for your request! I’m honestly trying to get through all the ones I have right now, and I really liked this one. I hoped you liked this one <3