#Jacaerys Velaryon x original character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marihoneywk · 1 year ago

Text

A dragon's ambition

Jacaerys Velaryon x older stepsister - one shot

Summary: Growing up under her father's influence in the Red Keep, Alysanne becomes determined to claim the Iron Throne. Feeling the sting of being overlooked and fuelled by ambition, Alysanne hatches a plan that involves the seduction of the heir to throne, her stepbrother Jacaerys, who also happens to be her half-sister's betrothed.

Warnings: incest (stepsiblings that are cousins), sexual content, p in v, tiddy succin, breeding kink, some fluff, third person narrative, oc is manipulative.

Word count: 3.8 k

Alysanne Targaryen was the oldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Conceived in the only night Lady Rhea Royce and Daemon spent together, Alysanne wasn’t a desired child, as her mother secretly tried to end the pregnancy.

However, Alysanne was tough and stubborn since the womb and came into the world crying so loud, the whole Vale could hear her.

Daemon welcomed his daughter to live with him in the Red Keep upon her third name day, raising her in his own ways, educating her to be cunning and fearless.

Alysanne had grown up to be her father’s female version, a thing that scared Daemon. Her sharp mind aligned with her ethereal looks, made a dangerous combination that didn’t let any man escape. With her sweet eyes and big eyelashes, not even the guards were able to refuse a single request she made, crumbling immediately to her pleads.

Alysanne liked her sisters, Baela and Rhaena, but didn’t love them. They were nice and fun to be around, but she couldn’t stop wandering if perhaps her life would be better, if they weren’t around.

She also liked to believe she was her father’s favourite daughter, even if she wasn’t sure. It was only fair right? Baela and Rhaena had their own mother to favour them, while Alysanne only had Daemon. Her mother had a brief presence in her life, dying in a tragic accident with her horse three moons before Alysanne moved to Kings Landing.

Alysanne’s life was pleasant enough, but then, Lady Laena Velaryon died and Baela and Rhaena were also left with only one parent.

They just seemed to want everything Alysanne had.

First, they played dress up with her gowns, then they ate all her honey cakes at breakfast and then finally got her father’s attention to themselves, as Daemon focused more on the twins, supporting then through their grief.

Then, Rhaenyra came and married her father.

Alysanne liked Rhaenyra though. She let the girl use her earrings and necklaces, and even gifted her some dresses from her younger years. But what Alysanne liked the most about her new stepmother was the fact that she was set to be next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, making Alysanne feel like she could just touch the Iron Throne

As a result of being raised in the Red Keep until moving to Pentos, Alysanne quickly learned the power of that seat.

Even if she didn’t understand how Viserys got there, as an ant and him had the same skills to be king, every time he passed by her in the halls, she could not divert her eyes from the shining crown on top of his balding head. Suddenly her dreams were filled with images of her sitting in the Iron Trone, wearing long bright dresses and matching jewels.

Alysanne and her family had just come back from the capital, landing victoriously in Dragonstone after securing Lucerys’ inheritance of Driftmark.

However, Alysanne couldn’t be madder. It had been announced to everyone the official betrothal of Lucerys and Rhaena, and Jacaerys and Baela.

How could her father and stepmother do this to her? She was the first Daemon’s daughter to become of age to wed, and they had just putted her aside, betrothing her younger sister to the future king of the Seven Kingdoms.

Jacaerys and Alysanne weren’t very close, as the two-year age gap between them didn’t align their interests with each other. It was a small difference of age, but Jace was a typically childish boy, which contrasted with the more mature personally of the girl.

Of all her siblings, she preferred the younger ones, Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys.

Their small age made it easier to shape their small minds into Alysanne’s likings. The girl quickly became their favourite sister as she would be the one that spent more time with them, playing, reading, and teaching them everything that she valued. Joffrey became so attached to the girl’s presence in his daily activities, that sometimes he would cry in his bed for her, and as a good sister, Alysanne would leave her chambers and put the boy to sleep with kisses on the forehead and loving lullabies.

Daemon had called Alysanne into his study , noticing the annoyed expression that hadn’t left his daughter’s face the whole trip to Dragonstone.

“What’s wrong with you? You are acting different since last night.” Daemon asked looking directly into Alysanne’s eyes.

Alysanne wondered if she should tell her father what she was thinking exactly. Daemon liked honesty but she wasn’t sure if honesty was the right path to follow in this conversation.

“Why are Baela and Rhaena getting married before me?” Not exactly the centre of the matter that was bothering her, but it was close.

Daemon laughed, not believing his daughter’s bad mood was caused by her sisters betrothals.

“Do you want a wedding for yourself, daughter? I didn’t know you were so eager to be attached to a man and to be popping out heirs.” Alysanne only rolled her eyes, not having the patience to her father’s typical comments. “I don’t understand your little tantrum Alysanne, if anything you should be thankful you don’t have to marry yet. But if you really are that desperate to get wed, Cregan Stark’s wife just passed away. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a Targaryen beauty like you being given to him.”

Alysanne immediately laughed in her father’s face, letting the anger that was slowing boiling beneath her skin finally snap.

“No!” She yelled, slamming her hands down on the wodden desk that stood in the middle of the room.

“No?” Daemon repeated, not expecting her outburst.

“How is that fair? Baela gets to be queen, and I get send away to freeze in the North?” Her loud voice echoed through the chambers, as Alysanne couldn’t believe her father’s suggestion.”I’m the oldest girl! I’m your oldest daughter, I should be the one getting my ass cozy in the throne! Not Baela!” She screamed and pointed her indicator finger to her father in an accusing manner.

Daemon was shocked but without hesitation jumped in defence of his other daugther.

“You’re not going to speak about Baela like that again! Do you hear me Alysanne?!” Daemon’s shook her shoulders, letting his temper take the best of him.

Alysanne felt her eyes water and her throat itch, as she tried to contain the sobs she was holding back. Her father had never screamed at her, and not once he had directed his anger towards her like that.

The feeling of injustice settled once again on Alysanne’s chest, hurting like the sobs in her throat.

“You’re going to inherit Runestone, isn’t that great already?” Daemon asked rhetorically and left the room they had entered, slamming the door on his way making Alysanne shudder.

“Why have only Runestone when you can have all the Seven Kingdoms…” She whispered to the empty office as the tears finally fell from her eyes.

Alysanne had one goal: be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And to accomplish that goal, she traced a plan that involved betraying her half-sister and her father.

It would hurt, because she loved her father very much, but lately Daemon had been so distant from Alysanne and so close to Baela, that she didn’t feel that terrible doing it.

Jacaerys was sitting in the beach of Dragonstone playing with little Viserys in the sand. Alysanne got closer and started an innocent conversation.

“Hello Jace.” She smiled gracefully at him.

“Hi Aly.” He returned the jest, turning his attention to young boy next to him as he tried to stand to the sight of Alysanne.

“Hello to you too my love.” Viserys immediately put his little chubby arms in the air, begging for his sister to pick him up, showing his small teeth in a smile.

Alysanne bended over to pick up the babe, making sure she aligned the low neckline of her dress with Jacaerys’ eyesight.

She turned to the older boy, now with the younger one on her right hip, and notice his red cheeks and the bobbing of his throat.

“How are you feeling brother?” Alysanne asked.

“A-, what-… what do you mean?” He was nervous. Like she had caught him doing something bad.

“About the betrothal, Jace. How are you feeling now that you are about the be a married man?”

“I’m content Aly, Baela is a kind and nice girl. It could be a lot worse.“

Alysanne knew he was being honest. Baela and Jacaerys were really good friends, and considering the Westerosi history in arranged marriages, she agreed that he definitely could have gotten worse.

“Do you think she will make a fine Queen?” She questioned him while sitting on the sand next to him, putting Viserys in her lap.

“With Daemon and my mother educating her, I don’t see how she could ever do wrong.”

Alysanne started playing innocently with a curl on the side of Jacaerys' head, twirling it on her fingers. She pretended to not notice the chill on his neck and moved her hand to massage the curls on the top of his hair.

“I agree with you brother, Baela would be a nice Queen. But would she be a nice Queen to you?”

“I don’t understand Aly.” Jacaerys was getting flustered, getting distracted from the conversation as the girl's hands played so smoothly with his hair and her breasts were sitting so prettily in a pink dress.

“A Queen should not only serve the realm, but should also serve her husband, the King. You know that right?” From his expression, it was clear that Jacaerys still wasn’t getting Alysanne’s point. “The marital bed is how Queens serve their Kings, brother. By giving them pleasure.” Alysanne smirked seeing Jacaerys’ blushed cheeks, laughing lightly when he avoided looking at her eyes.

It was the middle of the night, and the castle was sleeping peacefully, except for Alysanne, who was just leaving her chambers, wearing nothing but her thin nightgown. Tiptoeing carefully on the stone floors to not alert any guards, she made her way to a room she had been very few times.

Opening and closing the door quietly, she let her eyes wander through the dark chambers, stopping on the big bed and on the dark tuff of hair resting on the pillows. Jacaerys was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of his sister’s presence in his room.

Alysanne made her way to the bed, seating behind Jacaerys’ back, leaning carefully in his ear.

“Jace…” She whispered while letting her index finger wander through his neck.

The boy started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly trying to adjust to the lack of light.

“Alysanne?” He interrogated turning his body to face her.

“I think I saw a spider in my room. Can I sleep with you tonight Jace?” Alysanne pouted, batting her eyelashes the best she could, but the doubt in Jacaerys’ eyes was still visible.

“Aly, I don’t think it’s appropriate. If somebody catches you, we might get in trouble.”

As much as his words were denying her, Alysanne noticed how his eyes went down to her nipples, that had perked due to coldness of the space, and were now very visible through her white nightgown.

“Please Jace.” She pleaded, putting her hands his shoulders. “The spider was very big, and you know how scared I am of bugs.”

“Fine, but you have to leave before the morning comes.”

“Thank you Jace, you the best brother.” Alysanne kissed his cheek, making her breasts collide with his chest, and even in the dark atmosphere of the room, she could very much recognize his blushing look.

Alysanne got under the covers, making herself comfortable on the second pillow of the bed. At first, she gave Jacaerys some distance, but as the minutes passed, she slowly began to move herself close to the boy. She was facing him, observing his closed eyes, and almost laughed at his failed attempt to pretend to sleep.

Alysanne once again, let her fingers wander through his chest, following the patterns of his garment.

“Aly…go to sleep” Jacaerys mumbled with his eyes still closed.

“I’m trying Jacey…”

Alysanne lifted her right foot, making a gentle path up and down in his leg, not going up above the knee.

Jacaerys stopped her foot from continuing to move, holding it tightly with his hand.

“What are you doing Alysanne?” He said as he finally opened his eyes, giving her a serious look.

“I’m just caressing my brother. I like to make you feel good.” She muttered, now rubbing his leg with the foot that wasn’t trapped in his hand.

Jacaerys closed his eyes once again, but this time doing it as mechanism to calm himself. Alysanne moved her eyes down the covers, espying the bulge on the boy’s breeches. She bitted her lip and drawn her face close to his, letting their noses touch slightly.

Alysanne could feel his warm but shaky breath, also smelling the scent of lavender in his hair.

“Jace, let me make you feel good tonight…” Jacaerys whole body got chills, as the girl whispered and started to kiss his neck, making a trail to his jaw.

“Aly-, I- “He hummed, moving his hand from her foot, tightening his grip on her ankle.” I’m betrothed do Baela, and I can’t let yourself be ruined for your future husband.”

“I appreciate your concern for my reputation brother, but I’m not a maiden anymore.”

Alysanne didn’t let Jacaerys make any questions, biting his neck roughly which led to a loud grunt echoing through the room.

“Carefully Jacey, you don’t mommy Rhaenyra to catch us don’t you? Or worse, my father and my sister. Can you imagine?” She said licking the spot behind his ear.

Jacaerys just shook his head and surrendered to whatever Alysanne planned to do with him.

Alysanne switched positions, straddling him with her legs, seating right on top of his erect cock. Jacaerys moaned and the girl took his hands putting them across her hips.

“Do you want to see me bare brother? Do you wish to see and touch my soft skin?”

“Yes, Aly…yes.” His hands tensed around her hips, and Alysanne moved them again, letting them rest against her rear. Jacaerys immediately groaned, hardening his grip, possibly leaving bruises on her skin.

Alysanne rubbed herself against Jacaerys’ bulge, and because her only piece of clothing was a nightgown, the only thing separating them was his breeches, causing both to moan at the contact.

The room was getting hotter, with the heavy breathing and sweat that started to glisten in their bodies warming up the atmosphere.

Jacaerys’ eyes were close, and his head empty of thoughts, the mere feeling of his stepsister’s cunt making him dumb.

Alysanne´s hands moved to the straps of her nightgown, pushing them down just enough to show her tits.

“Jacey, open your eyes my love.” She whispered in his ear and the boy followed her request, coming to immediate disbelief, not expecting Alysanne’s bust to be right in front his face.

“Can I?” He asked nervously, not having the courage to express in full words what he wanted to say exactly.

The girl nodded, and carefully, Jace moved his hands touching Alysanne’s tits like they were a fragile piece of glass. She chuckled teasingly as his index fingers made round movements around her nipples.

“You can go harder you know? I’m not a doll.”

Jacaerys, hearing her words, gripped both of her breasts roughly, and as a moan left his stepsister’s mouth, he got even harder, felling like the fabric of his breeches was about to rip.

Alysanne grabbed his hair, pushing his head close to her chest. “Suck them brother.”

He widened his eyes, taking some seconds to fully process her words, and Alysanne, with her lack of patience, pulled his hair harder with her fingers, moving his head forcefully in the direction her tits.

If Jacaerys got uncomfortable with the sudden lack of delicacy of his stepsister, he didn’t show it, as he immediately opened his mouth and sucked on Alysanne’s left breast like a hungry babe.

“Fuck…You are so good Jace. Can´t believe I only discovered you now.” The Targaryen girl opened her mouth in silent moans, never once stopping her hips from moving against her stepbrother’s lap.

Jacaerys felt like his cock was going to explode. Never once in his life he had been this hard.

He had noticed Alysanne’s looks before, always having to look away when the siblings would go for a swim in the beach of Dragonstone, and her shift would stick to her body, giving him a perfect view of her bottom and chest. He was still in disbelief, but the feeling of guilt or treason had vanished from his head since he felt her bare cunt against him.

Alysanne moved Jace’s head again, withdrawing his mouth from her breast, making a thin thread of spit connect to her nipple. His eyebrows raised in a frown, as he didn’t like that he got stopped, until the girl carefully raised her hips, and slowly started to unlace his breaches.

“Are you ready brother?” She questioned and the boy nodded without hesitation, eager to finally feel her pussy fully around him.

Alysanne was pleasantly surprised upon the sight of her stepbrother’s cock. With only a handful of sexual experiences with one of the knights of the Dragonstone, Jacaerys’ manhood was big in length and width. Alysanne debuted her hand could fully close around it.

Before pushing her hips down again, the girl took her nightgown off, throwing it to some corner of the room.

Her cunt was glistening with wetness, making Jacaerys grunt at the sight.

Alysanne pushed one finger inside of her, whining at the feeling, only to pull it out and slowly press her wet and shiny digit to Jace’s lips.

The boy didn’t expect this action, but quickly let the surprise get away and instead allowed the curiosity to take hold of him. Opening his mouth carefully, he licked the wet substance that was touching his lips, being interrupted as Alysanne shoved her wet finger inside in mouth. Just like he did with her nipple, Jacaerys sucked like his life depended on it, loving the sweet taste of his stepsister in his mouth. It was sweater than any dessert he had ever tasted, and more addicting than any wine in the Seven Kingdoms.

The Targaryen girl chuckled amused with this moment, proceeding to leave delicate kisses on his neck.

Taking her finger of Jacaerys’ mouth, Alysanne connected her gaze with his, as she aligned his cock with her cunt, finally sinking down.

Both moaned loudly at the sensation. Alysanne felt full to a point of pain, and Jacaerys felt a tight and warm embrace in his manhood, that it was close enough to make him come.

“Fuck Jacey.” Alysanne pulled their lips together in a lustful and passionate kiss. It was hungry and desperate, both chasing each other’s tongue, not worrying about syncing the movements.

Alysanne started to move her hips, first at a slow pace, wanting to adjust to her stepbrother large cock, but Jacaerys was already impatient and wanted more. Groaning, he took hold of her hips, and pressed her down more on him. Alysanne felt like she could sob from pleasure, and moved her hips faster, making herself and Jace see stars.

“Aly you feel so good.” He moaned breathy, pressing small kisses on her tits.

The bed moved against the stone wall, making a noise that echoed through the room, but not high enough that could silence their sounds of pleasure.

Alysanne, feeling her leg muscles starting to get tired, slowed down a little, and Jace, sensing that, began to move his own hips upwards, thrusting into Alysanne´s pussy without mercy.

The girl’s eyes watered as his cock touched that spot, forcing her to bite into Jacaerys’ shoulder to prevent the scream that was about to leave her mouth from waking their family up.

They exchange gazes, and Jacaerys thought he was seeing an angle, upon the sight of Alysanne´s face. Her silver long hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flustered and red, but what really mesmerised him were her teary violet eyes and swollen lips. If he was meant to go to one of the seven heavens, he was sure they would never be more beautiful than this view.

Seeing his deep stare, Alysanne smiled softly and pressed a small kiss on Jacaerys’ lips.

“I’m close Aly.” He said making a low sound that rattled in his throat.

“Come inside me Jacey. Please brother.” She begged and the boy was quick to nod in agreement, but Alysanne could still see the hesitation in his eyes. She pushed Jace against the mattress, taking command of the pace again, and with all her strength, she rode Jace like the dragonrider she was.

“Gods...” He whispered, one hand on her back and the other on her ass, squeezing it tightly.

Fire burned in Alysanne’s belly, as her climax was also approaching. She moved her hand down, reaching for her cunt and toyed with her clit, wanting to reach the orgasm together with Jace.

Alysanne pressed her forehead with his, the sweat sticking their hair together, and Jacaerys’ brown eyes widen with adoration.

He felt like this was meant to be, Alysanne’s deep violet eyes looking into his and his hands worshiping every piece of her skin. He wasn´t sure if should be thanking the gods for her existence, as in the moment she was a goddess herself.

“Come on brother, let me give you a sweet babe with dark hair.” As this sentence left Alysanne´s mouth, Jacaerys’ was unable to hold it anymore and with a trembling heart, he lifted his large palm, and slapped the girl’s ass forcefully, immediately leaving a red bruise. Alysanne gasped, and finally, together, both reached their release. Alysanne clung to him, coming with a loud cry, and Jacaerys buried his face on her neck, muffling a deep moan into her skin.

Alysanne felt the warm release of her stepbrother filling her, and smiled, allowing her hips to continue moving, wanting to prolong both of their pleasure.

“Fuck...” Jace’s tired voice spoke as he carefully withdrawn her from his lap.

Alysanne moved to his side, putting her head in his chest and looked directly into his eyes.

“Did you enjoy it?” She questioned teasingly.

“What do you think?” The boy laughed and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

The silence that now filled the room was an extreme contrast to the loud atmosphere that was bursting moments before.

Alysanne got what she wanted, and the happiness of being able to accomplish her goal, mixed with the pleasure she had felt, had brought her to a state of bliss.

Jacaerys on the other hand, was now contemplating his future. If his betrothal to Baela wasn´t important some minutes ago, now it was a screaming thought in his head.

When the betrothal was announced, he never for once got sad about it, with Baela being a kind and beautiful girl. But now, after having Alysanne in his arms, he knew that entire years of a marriage with Baela wouldn’t bring him the happiness he felt in a single night with Alysanne.

#jacaerys velaryon x oc #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys Velaryon x original female character #jacaerys x oc

409 notes · View notes

kckt88 · 8 months ago

Text

The Lost Dragon.

I - Ensnared.

II - Counterblow.

III - Slip Away.

IV - Harmonize.

V - Butterfly.

VI - Wrecked.

VII - Eliminate.

VIII - Relinquish.

IX - Displaced.

X - Longing.

XI - Freedom.

XII - Revelations.

XIII - Tranquility.

XIV - Lingering.

XV - Eternal.

XVI - Hēnkirī hae mēre

XVII - Epilogue

XVIII - Exile (Aemond POV)

222 notes · View notes

icarusignite · 3 months ago

Text

Daenys Velaryin vs Daenys Targaryen

She wears alot of blue before the war because it's a connection to Laenor but also because it's in sync with Helaena's pre war lighter coloured clothes and they're pretty dress girlies together.

Also Aemond's sapphire necklace ✨️She's never without it until she is 💀

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #jacaerys velaryon #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #game of thrones #oc fanart #hotd oc #house of the dragon oc #house of the dragon fanart #aemond targaryen fanart #original character #artists on tumblr #digital artist #procreate #icarus ignite draws

68 notes · View notes

escespace · 4 months ago

Text

Addam: We all agree that it's emotional when the compliment comes from a grumpy older lady?

Laenys: She was not a grumpy lady. that was my mom (⁠ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ⁠)

Addam: So... Aren't we denying that she is old?

89 notes · View notes

vampire-exgirlfriend · 7 months ago

Text

All of my work is rated M or E (18+ only. If you’re under 18 this isn’t the space for you) and is ofc or xfemreader unless otherwise noted. Mind the tags. No use of y/n. You can also find me on ao3. My Misc. Masterlist is here and Star Wars Masterlist is here.

I do not give permission for any of my work to be translated, reposted, or plugged into AI.

Aemond Targaryen

they say I killed you (haunt me then) - Aemond x ofc Wylla Karstark | completed | Wylla Karstark is content with her life in the far reaches of the North, happy even. She has everything she ever thought she needed. Until Aemond Targaryen tumbles from the sky, abandoned by his dragon and left at her mercy.

Paper Crowns - mafia au | Aemond x ofc Viserra Velaryon | Completed | Viserra Velaryon has never buckled under the weight of her legacy, of all that she stands to inherit. The oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, she has always understood her place in the world, in her family. But when her grandfather passes, leaving behind an incomplete will and a bloodthirsty widow intent on securing her children's inheritance, she finds herself in the middle of a war that she isn't sure how to fight. Her enemy? The boy she once loved, the man she's learned to hate.

Iron and Ash - When he looked at you it was as if he had peeled the dress from your body, the skin from your bones; you had never felt more bare than when the prince gazed from across whatever room you were in, his eye fixed on you and you alone.

You've Got My Body (Flesh and Bone) - Her violet eyes crashed against his like waves against a rocky shore and the mismatched jewel tones of his gaze had her feeling dizzy; she could just make out her reflection in the facets of the sapphire he wore in place of his right eye. Without thinking, she raised her other hand, tracing the line of his scar even though she knew he couldn't feel it beneath the knot of roughly healed tissue.

Shimmer - He was hot to the touch, as if he burned with fever, and you supposed in a way, he did. He burned for you, he burned in the way that only a dragon could, with the same fire that you felt heat your own

Daemon Targaryen

Meet Me In the After - Daemon Targaryen x oc Sabitha Blackwood | upcoming | The realm holds its breath as Queen Aemma approaches the end of her pregnancy. The king proclaims loudly to any that will listen that she will finally give him a living son, an heir, and all around him rejoice. But Aemma knows, after two stillbirths, three miscarriages, and a son lost in the cradle, that Viserys will not get his wish. Dreams plague the queen, dreams of fire and blood and a dead boy in a cursed crown. Sent to court to attend Queen Aemma two years prior, Lady Sabitha Blackwood is privy to all the queen's fears, to the anxieties that plague her daughter, Princess Rhaenyra, and the pressures of court that eat at her dear friend, Lady Alicent Hightower. Stuck in a loveless marriage with a husband who grows crueler with each month that passes without an heir of his own, Sabitha finds herself preening under the attentions of the king's brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen. As the two fall deeper into a torrid and dangerous affair, the worst comes to pass.

The queen is dead, the king's heir with her, and all eyes fall on the young women closest to her. Will Rhaenyra truly be named heir? Why do the king's eyes follow Lady Alicent? And what does Sabitha know that puts her in the gravest of danger?

When It Comes To You (My World Is Deep Red) - “Is that what you seek? A great love story?” she asked with a raised brow, dismissive of the notion that Daemon Targaryen would be swayed by something so simple as that.

Salt in the Wound | completed | There was a reason they said the Targaryens were closer to gods than men; it wasn’t just their dragons that held them separate, that held them above. No, it was the way that once every handful of generations, one came along that held the ability to tear the world apart with their bare hands, to rend it with their teeth, to melt it down and attempt to recreate it in their own image.

evening star | Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen | A queen, locked high in her tower, a rose in a glass case.A knight in the form of a sharp tongued, silver-haired princess.A violet-eyed villain who speaks like a lover. Alicent has hardened herself against the promise of a gentle touch. Daemon has learned to taste love in the blood he licks from his blades. And Rhaenyra, lost in the fog of her father’s neglect, finds that she is the tie that binds. What does it mean for the realm when the Queen in Chains, the Realms Delight, and the Rogue Prince come together to create a light in the dark?

Jacaerys Velaryon & Helaena Targaryen

For the Love of a Princess - “Your fascination with me will be your death,” she said, arching up toward him, his shaky exhale ghosting over her face. She had no idea why she said it, though surely her mother would call for his head if they were caught, a replacement for the eye her desperate bid for justice could not procure.

The Conquerors (Visenya, Rhaenys, and Aegon I Targaryen)

Afterlife - She was not the wife he had wanted. He was not the husband she had wanted. All that connected them was lost now. “It should have been me.” The words came out in a whisper and Visenya wept.

Aegon II Tagaryen

Lips Like Lightning (Skin So Sweet) - This moment was just a miniscule light in the dark. But any light was better than none. Tomorrow she would leave, heading home to Volantis to start the new year back in her real life. And Aegon Targaryen, whoever he was, would go back to the people in the pictures.

heaven is not meant to house a love (like you and I) - Aegon Targaryen and his wonderful, fantastic, very good day. A they say I killed you (haunt me then) outtake, set one year before the main story. A birthday gift for @emilykaldwen

104 notes · View notes

optimizche · 2 years ago

Text

Missing (Part 8) [Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon]

Warnings: Smut (minors DNI), fluff, angst.

Watching the immense golden dragon land in the courtyard of the castle of Winterfell made your breath hitch. Shouts were heard of the Northern guards and their commanders preparing their weaponry in case of an attack. Within seconds, Jacaerys and you were running into the castle walls, ready to prepare your own dragons in the event of violence but were met with the sight of Aegon Targaryen, the usurper, calmly dismounting from Sunfyre's back. He shot a smirk at Jacaerys, giving you a rather mocking bow before making his way inside the castle.

Before he could take even a step inside the castle, his way was barred by the arrival of Lord Cregan Stark and his personal guards, all of them armed and prepared.

Aegon raised his hands in surrender before walking towards Cregan. "I come with a message, Lord Stark. There is no need for such commotion."

"You came on the back of your dragon, usurper," Jacaerys spat and Aegon waved a hand dismissively toward his nephew.

"Learn to speak when you are asked, dear nephew," he said, before turning to Lord Stark.

"It is a rarity that the King himself brings a message to a House."

"What is it that caused you to fly out here by yourself, My Lord?" Lord Cregan Stark asked, his brow quirking.

Aegon sneered. "I believe the term is "My King." I'll even be generous enough to accept Your Grace."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the utter pettiness of the Targaryen prince. It reminded you so much of Aemond.

Cregan and Jacaerys both remained silent, waiting.

"I come to Winterfell with terms for House Stark. Swear fealty to my cause and ask your bannermen to do the same and I shall allow you to rule Winterfell-"

"You shall allow me to rule Winterfell? The land of my forefathers? You?" Lord Cregan said, an amused smile gracing his lips. "You, who couldn't keep his own wife from bedding his own brother?"

You felt a smile creep up on your own lips, giving Jace's hand a squeeze. He gave you a wink.

"Agree to my terms and bring the North to my cause and I shall spare you from the wrath of my dragon's fire," Aegon threatened, an embarassed flush rising in his cheeks.

"Are you still down in your cups this morning, Uncle?" Jacaerys asked. "You are vastly outnumbered with our two dragons against one of yours."

"And Winterfell, along with the rest of the North, stands behind the firstborn son of the one true and rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen," Lord Cregan Stark added.

It was priceless, seeing the flush of humiliation on Aegon's face. You had an inkling that it was the humiliation of your letters being sent all around the Seven Realms that had led him to take on this stunt of trying to threaten Winterfell to surrender, all by himself.

Aegon was nothing if not conceited and full of himself. You knew he was not going to take this indignity well.

"Fine," he said, turning to walk back toward his dragon, Sunfyre. "But I shall return to claim what is mine with fire and blood."

It was then, upon hearing the words of the Targaryen house, fire and blood, that something struck you. It was something you had often thought about these days.

"Wait! Aegon!" you called out, letting go of a bewildered Jace's hand and walking towards him with a determination in your feet.

The silver haired boy who called himself King turned towards you coolly. "You're asking the men to change their minds, My Lady?"

"Hardly, Aegon. I am surprised you do not recognise me yet-"

He suddenly grasped you by the arms, pulling you towards him until his lips were at your ear. "I know exactly who you are, My Lady. You were my little brother's confidant, my father's healer. I'm still quite stunned by how beautiful you've grown up to become."

You swallowed down the sudden taste of bile in your throat, the stench of strongwine emanating from the Targaryen making you nauseous. Also, it didn't help how his nails dug into the flesh of your forearms, like the claws of a dragon. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself.

"Aegon, I wish to ask you for your mercy," you said, your voice equally low. "For the sake of the time we spent together in our childhood, I beg for your clemency towards Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Please."

At the mention of the twins, Aegon pushed you away roughly. Jacaerys snarled, unsheathing his Valyrian steel dagger and stepping close to you protectively, ready to attack his uncle.

Reeling from Aegon's push, you placed a calming hand on Jacaerys' arm, pleading to him with your eyes to let you speak.

"And why do you care so much for the children?" Aegon asked.

"I care because they are children," you said. "They are innocent. They have done nothing to deserve the consequences for the sins of their parents, and you know that. You know that, Aegon. Think about it. You would not want a child bearing your name to be treated the way you were."

You could see on his face that he was considering your words, the gears in his mind working furiously. You knew that deep down, Aegon was not evil. He was a product of the years of abuse from his mother and grandfather.

He remained silent, contemplating, while you kept your hand on Jacaerys' arm, waiting.

"Fine," Aegon sneered. "Kneel before me and beg for my mercy for the children."

You stepped back, scoffing at the request. Of course, it wouldn't be Aegon if he didn't bully, belittle or insult someone to make his own inadequacies feel smaller.

"How dare you, you cunt!" Jacaerys growled, raising his dagger.

"No, Jace, please," you entreated, trying to stop him before he did something reckless.

Upon hearing your words, Jacaerys stared at you in disbelief, his eyes almost shouting I can't believe you're going to entertain him.

But the guilt that had been gnawing away at you ever since you had written those letters overpowered you and you slowly sank to your knees in front of Aegon. You knew full well that you should have despised Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your right mind, for they were the product of Aemond's ultimate betrayal. But the threat to their innocent lives had invoked a great sense of remorse in you.

"I beg you to forgive Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, Aegon," you said, looking up at the rubies encrusted in the crown upon his head, pushing down the humiliation you felt. "I need you to give me your word."

"Gods do you look pretty on your knees like a-"

Before Aegon could even complete the sentence, Jacaerys slashed violently at him, cutting a clean gash on his right cheekbone.

"Jacaerys!" you gasped.

With a cry, Aegon fell backwards, his hand trying to stop the blood streaming from the cut.

In seconds, Lord Cregan Stark was holding back Jacaerys, preventing the Velaryon Prince from inflicting any further damage to the Targaryen, understanding the consequences of this attack. An all-out war could start right this second with Winterfell being the first casualty.

You rushed toward Aegon, kneeling beside him and placing your hand upon his face. "You always were a fool, Aegon. A slave to your own vices," you said, using your abilities to heal his cut. The flesh and skin sealed themselves seamlessly beneath your fingers. "Give me your word about the twins and begone. You'll end up dead otherwise."

"Gods be good, I give you my word," Aegon gave in, dazed by your healing skills. "The twins shall be unharmed."

"Now leave," you said, rising to your feet, leaving him on the ground. "Leave before our dragons burn you alive."

You returned to Jace's side, whispering calming words to help his anger subside as you led him to your chambers within the castle, not even waiting to watch Aegon depart.

Lord Cregan Stark and his men would ensure that Sunfyre and his rider were safely away and out of sight.

With a sigh, you sank underneath the surface of the water, immersing yourself in its welcoming heat that surrounded every inch of your bare skin.

Rising, you leaned your head back against the marbled wall of the enormous bath, inhaling the scent of lavender and jasmine infused oils.

After the incident in the courtyard this morning, Jacaerys had left you by yourself in the castle while he spent the day going on a hunt with Lord Stark and his men. It was something he needed to do to distract himself, he said. But you knew better. You, kneeling before Aegon, had hurt him. It wasn't so much about the lewd comment Aegon had made but the fact that you had knelt before the man who had stolen his mother's throne, that you had knelt before the man who's brother had once been your best friend in childhood. You had knelt before the man who's brother still remained somewhere in you heart.

As much as you had tried to console and calm Jacaerys, he had refused to listen to you, choosing to occupy his time with hunting stags.

You reached for the cup of wine resting on the side of the bath, taking a healthy sip of it, having already consumed quite a bit. This Northern wine was far more potent than the wines you were used to at Dragonstone, but you needed something to calm your nerves. It burned as it slid down your throat, its sweetness so heady on your tongue.

It puzzled you, your concern for the well-being of the twins. You should have felt hatred at best and indifference at worst for the children as they were a constant reminder of Aemond's actions, of the fact that he would never truly be yours.

And yet, you cared enough to kneel before Aegon to beg for their safety.

Why?

Was it to absolve the remorse you felt about writing those letters? Seeing how unfairly Jace, Luke and Joff had been treated because of their parentage that you wanted to shield the twins?

Or was it because, despite your best denials, you still felt something for Aemond?

Closing your eyes, you rested against the marble wall, breathing deeply as you felt the heat from the water sink into your flesh, warm you down to your bones. You could feel your guilt dissolve into nothingness, the heat that enveloped your body giving you a sense of comfort albeit temporarily.

It was the sound of footsteps that brought you back from your mind and you saw Jacaerys walking into the room when you opened your eyes.

"I am sorry," you whispered, suddenly feeling sheepish. "I should not have done that. I don't know why I did it."

Jace sat down on the ledge of the bath, still dressed in his hunting leathers. "You still love Aemond," he said, his expression unreadable. "You felt like his children suffered on the account of their bastardy and you tried to make it right. I just wish someone had tried to do the same thing for me instead of repeatedly brushing it under the carpet."

You felt your heart break upon hearing the crack in his voice. "Jacaerys," you looked up into his eyes. "I love you, too. I just… He still remains somewhere in me and I can't get rid of him."

The dark haired Prince smiled ruefully. "Don't you see? This is history repeating itself, my darling. My mother's lover was Ser Harwin even though her heart truly belonged to Daemon. I'm only your lover, while your heart belongs to-"

"Stop it, please," you said, suddenly feeling tears in your eyes. "Jacaerys, I love you. For the first time in a long time, I feel hope with you."

"You don't have to say that. I wish I was enough for you…"

"You are!" you said, grasping his hands in yours, suddenly remembering how awful you had felt when you had spoken the exact same words to Aemond in the cave near Storm's End. And you said what you wished he had said back. "You are enough and more. I… I don't deserve you. I don't deserve you, Jace."

The tears that had brimmed in your eyes now fell freely as you placed your forehead to his hands. "I don't know why you've chosen to waste your time on someone as broken as me when you could have any woman in the Seven Realms…"

"I don't want any other woman, I want you."

"I need time, Jacaerys. Please," you breathed, your tears falling onto his hands. "After wasting all these years pining for a man who cast me aside at the first opportunity he got, I find myself unable to put my faith in anyone else but myself. I know that you will never hurt me and that I should be grateful to your mother and your family for taking me in when I needed help the most, but-"

"You owe us nothing, my darling," Jacaerys said, before placing a kiss to your crown. "I am willing to wait for as long as it takes you. Just… Don't ever kneel and beg before a man like Aegon, no matter how noble your intentions are. My uncles are truly despicable and far, far beneath you. They do not deserve your goodness, do you understand? Not anymore."

His hands cupped your face, tilting your chin until you were looking up at him. "Viserys was my grandsire, but all his and the Hightowers' family did was take advantage of your kindness. You've exhausted so much of yourself for them. You've had your heart broken by them. I only wish for you to become your own woman, the woman who I see in you. You don't need Aemond by your side, and you don't even need me to be who you truly are. Don't squander away your life for them, I beg you."

"I won't. I won't," you agreed, furiously wiping away at your tears before asking him about the hunt.

Knowing that you had had enough regarding the incident with Aegon, Jacaerys told you about the elks and boars the hunting party managed to kill, undressing and climbing into the bath with you, the conversation turning from significant to light-hearted.

You leaned back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as he held you close, bringing the smile back to your face while regaling you with the details of his hunt.

It was easy as breathing, with Jacaerys, you thought, closing your eyes as he spoke about the silliness of Lord Cregan's squires, the two of you quietly chuckling away.

You lay in his arms, for how long you could not tell, revelling in the gentleness of his touch. In the amber candlelight illuminating the bath, you watched your fingers lace into his under the surface of the water. His touch was always so tender, so kind and he held you with such care, a stark contrast to the cruelty of Aegon's push and the time when Aemond had cut into your hand with his sword.

"You are so kind to me…" you murmured, turning to place a kiss on his jaw. "Always."

"That is because I love you," he responded, placing a kiss to your shoulder.

"Tell me," you asked, raising your intertwined hands above the surface of the water to see how fragile your hand looked, resting safely in his sturdy grasp. "What can I do to make up for my folly today?"

A devilish smile curved into his lips as his other hand slowly crept into the space between your legs. "I can think of a way…"

The silhouettes of your bodies were illuminated by the candles in the bedchamber. In the mirrored glass nearby, your eyes were fixed on your reflections. You, with your legs straddling the dark haired Prince, rising and falling in the most delectable rhythm, your damp hair a curtain down your bare back. Jacaerys lay against the pillows underneath you, his hands having found purchase on your slender waist, guiding you to ride him the just way he preferred. Even though it was you who was on top, it was Jacaerys who maintained absolute control.

"Look at you," he praised. "Look at the way your skin flushes in the candlelight, the red in your lips from my kisses, the lustful haze that clouds your eyes. Look at how easily you take all of me inside you. Watch how I sink into you only to emerge glistening in your arousal. Do you see, my darling?"

You nodded, your own head falling back at the sensation this position elicited from you. "Gods, Jace, you're so deep-" your words morphed into a moan as you lost yourself in the delicious drag of his cock against your clenching, velvety walls. It felt so full, like he was carving the shape of him inside you.

Having been at this for quite a while, being forcibly denied any sense of completion by him, you felt like the muscles in your thighs were screaming in protest. Jacaerys remained the picture of restraint, masterfully working you until you felt like you were going to break, only to wrench away the sweet release from your reach at the very last moment. Gushing copiously, you could smell your desperation in the air, biting down on your lip as you struggled to keep up your rhythm. Noticing your pace faltering, Jacaerys rose to a sitting position, his chest now flush against your heaving breasts.

Fire roiled through your belly, your hands finding home on the Prince's shoulders, your hands running through his hair while he suckled at your breasts. "Oh, my-"

His arms drew you into him, the sharp upward thrusts of his hips taking over flawlessly from your waning cadence. The pleasure made your back bow, your body surrendering to him entirely. Jacaerys pounded up into you with an all-consuming relentlessness, almost as if he was letting out his frustrations with you in the most exquisite way possible. Caged in his arms, you moaned and whimpered, taking his 'punishment' of you with utter obedience, unable to squirm away from his embrace, keening sharply as his fingers rubbed into the sensitive nub nestled in your folds.

Immersed in the pleasure that threatened to drown you, you opened your eyes to glance at your utterly debauched state in the mirror before the pearly glow of silver hair and a glint of sapphire caught your attention.

"Jace!"

At your startled gasp, Jacaerys stopped immediately, his eyes examining your face with worry. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I-" you breathed, unable to voice what you had seen. Who you had seen. It couldn't be…

Were you hallucinating from the delirium? Or was Aemond actually here, inside the castle?

"I saw-"

Impossible.

He couldn't have found you all the way in the North, could he?

"What did you see, my darling?" Jace asked, his hands taking your face in his palms, his own eyes finding your line of sight. He turned to look around the room. "There's nothing here, sweetness. No one."

"I thought I saw…" you trailed off, your voice dying down as you looked around the room, before looking into the mirror, only to see that it was true.

But he was right there.

"Shhh…" Jacaerys reassured you, never once leaving your depths as his arms around your waist guided you to lie down upon a silken pillow under the small of your back. "Its just us, my darling."

In a fluid motion, he lifted your leg to hook it over his shoulder, drawing almost all the way out of you before plunging back in. You felt the breath leave your lungs, your fear and trepidation incinerating in a roar of pleasure. Eyes growing glazed under heavy lids, you gave in to the sharp, achingly deep thrusts that were delivered to you along with honeyed words breathed into your ear. "My princess. Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Oh, Jace…" It sent your heart soaring, a long drawn-out moan leaving your lips at the intensity of his claim upon you. To have someone want you with such desperation felt addictive. Heady, almost.

"You belong to me. Say it. I wish to hear you…" he commanded, his lips dragging across the bared column of your throat, his fingers resuming the tight and precise circles rubbing into your tender bud of nerves.

"I-I belong to you, My Prince. My King…"

Upon hearing the words laced in such absolute desire in your voice Jacaerys let go with a muttered curse. He shuddered against you, groaning as he spilled inside you. The sensation of his seed filling you up in heated and sticky spurts brought you to your own completion moments after, a relieved moan leaving you as you mercifully unraveled.

Lying in bed, throat raw from your cries, you felt utterly spent, feeling sleep dragging your eyelids shut. Every muscle in your body went lax, the syrupy dregs of remaining pleasure slowly enveloping you in their glow. Beside you, Jacaerys wasn't much better, his eyes falling closed as he inhaled the scent of your skin. Your Prince was clearly exhausted from the hunting day's exertions.

"There's a tourney tomorrow in our honour," he murmured sleepily into your neck. "I want to spend the day in bed with you, my princess."

"We must attend the tourney…. But I'm not a princess yet, My Prince," you grinned, placing a kiss to the crown of his dark hair.

"I will make you my Princess and, in time, my Queen. I swear it."

You fell into the bliss of oblivion, dreaming about your future beside Jacaerys.

It was the hour of the wolf when Aemond Targaryen emerged from his shroud of shadows.

His silvery mane glowed ethereally in the dying light of the almost burned out candles, his approach predatory.

Standing at your side of the bed, his fingers itched to grasp the handle of his dagger and impale it all the way to the hilt into Jacaerys Strong's neck.

But his eye was distracted by your beauty, drawn towards it like a moth to a flame. You lay on your back, limbs tangled in your bed furs, having drifted away from Jacaerys during the course of the night, leaving only your hand holding on to his as you slept.

Carefully sweeping away the stray locks of hair away from your face, Aemond felt a smile tug at his lips, seeing the tranquility adorning your features. You breathed deeply, letting out a sigh when his thumb brushed against your swollen lower lip.

Despite all that your actions had taken away from him, Aemond was filled with a sense of gratitude for you as you had stood before his older brother, Aegon, to ask for mercy for his children.

It gave him hope that despite the bitterness and pain he had made you suffer, you still felt a sliver of affection for him.

Why else would you have asked Aegon to spare the twins?

Aemond loomed over your sleeping form, his mind racing with a multitude of thoughts of you. If he so wished, he could have exacted his revenge for what you had done to him at this very moment.

Instead of his dagger, the silver haired Prince gently cupped your cheek, leaning down until his mouth was upon yours. You awakened at his kiss, eyes wide open with fear as you tried to use your arms to push him away. Aemond captured your wrists with the agility of a warrior, his mouth working furiously against yours, drawing out a surprised sound from you. Taking advantage, he slipped into your mouth, past your parted lips, to meet your tongue with his. It was heavenly, his first time kissing you with such intimacy. So lost was the one eyed Prince in the taste of you, that he almost forgot the salve he had applied to his lips a few minutes ago. It was the most potent sleeping draught he had smeared across his lips that he had kissed you with, the effect of which was starting to catch up with you.

Struggles dying down, your limbs went immobile, your eyes slipping shut as the potion took a hold of your mind, sending you to an unconsciousness as deep and dark as this darkest hour of the night even as his lips remained resolutely upon yours.

Once he was certain that you had fallen under the induced stupor, Aemond pulled away from you, wiping the remaining draught from his lips on his sleeve.

Realising that time was of the essence, he let go of your wrists, lifting you up into his arms and plucking you away from his nephew's side. Wrapping you up in his cloak to protect your modesty, he walked out of the bedchamber with you, into the night…

Author's note: Well, this story is called 'Missing' for a reason 😉 What did you think of this chapter?

Part 9

951 notes · View notes

asherbakugou · 8 months ago

Text

Valyrian Demingods of Westeros - Son of Caraxes

High Tide was lit by the brilliant flashes of lightning dancing in the sky, as her white walls were pelted with heavy rainfall. Within her walls, one could hear the screams of Princess Rhaenyra as she gave birth to another child, just over a year after the birth of Princess Alyssa.

Prince Jacaerys would be turning three within a few scarce months with Princess Alyssa's birthday following only 3 months later. Both were being cared for by their grandparents, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, as their father, Ser Laenor, supported her in the birthing room.

Unfortunately King Viserys, Queen Alicent and their children had stayed behind in the Red Keep, believing that Princess Rhaenyra would be able to return to give birth. But a storm had halted their ship, and the little one was quite excited to emerge during the storm.

Bouncing Alyssa in her arms, Rhaenys stood by the window and was witness to the spectacle as the sea calmed and the storm abated within moments, bringing forth the slightest hint of the sun. "Corlys," Rhaenys whispered, awed by the spectacle.

Her husband joined her, curious smto see what had his wife so shocked, only to be shocked as well. "The storm . . . I have never seen one stop so suddenly," Corlys admitted. Alyssa giggled, curling close to her grandmother peer over her shoulder.

Sat on the floor, Jacaerys stared back, smiling happily. "He's here," Jace said, climbing to his feet as Alyssa nodded.

"'Uke!" She cried in delight as the door was opened by a guard. The maid bowed, hair in complete dissaray and panting heavily.

"The Princess . . . the babe . . . a boy . . . both healthy," The maid gasped.

Rhaenys and Corlys stared at their grandchildren who were looking back at them expectantly. Genuinly confused as to how the children had known, they picked then up and carried then to the birthing room where they were greeted by a slightly frazzled looking Laenor, an exhausted Rhaenyra, and a babe swaddled in Velaryon blue-green silk cradled within his fathers arms.

Dmiling, Laenor held out his arms so the four could look, "Father, Mother. Alyssa, Jacaerys. I would like to introduce you to the future Lord of the Tides, the Heir to Driftmark and High Tide, Lucerys Velaryon, blessed by the storms and the tides themselves."

"What?" Rhaenys asked, eyes going wide as Laenor gently manuevered a little arm out of the swaddle, revealing a birthmark in the shape of Caraxes, the God of the Seas, Water, and Storms, mark. 4 stars facing the cardinal directions with a singular star in the center and ancient rune across the pale center of the star.

Corlys glanced down to Jacaerys, who hair barely hid his own crown shaped sigil with the rune for Justice upon the center and the runes for king on the sides, just as Rhaenys glanced to Alyssa, whose mark was weirwood branches along her collarbone that formed a circle at the hollow of her throat with rune for peace inside said circle alongside a feather and torch.

"Laenor," Rhaenys began, gaze sharp but worried. "Why do all three of your children have birthmarks in the shape of the sigils of Arrax, Tyraxes, and Caraxes?"

Two sets of eyes stared widely at her, nervous. Rhaenyra shifted, wincing at the pain as Laenor looled around the room so he wouldn't meet the eyes of his parents.

"Laenor."

Laenor's gaze snapped to Corlys at his tone, a fire gathering in their depths. "You forced us to seek out other methods for I to give Rhaenyra trueborn children. We found a method and now you have three heirs for grandchildren. That is all you need to know. I will be taking mt children now, they need to get to know their new brother, if you would excuse us."

His clear dismissal hurt but they put down his children and left, unsure of what to do, except send a letter to the King and his family to inform them of the new birth.

In King's Landing, within the Red Keep, Queen Alicent and her children were forced to listen to King Viserys read the letter aloud.

'Dear Cousin,

You will be most disappointed to hear that Rhaenyra was unable to give birth in the Red Keep, but she gave birth during one of the worst storms Driftmark has likely ever seen. When her son was born the sky calmed, the rain stopped, and the tides receded and everything was peaceful as if there had never been a storm in the first place.

We are delighted to send word of the birth of Prince Lucerys Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, and future Lord of the Tides. Born with the Velaryon locks, eyes, and skin, we can only wait for his skills at sailing to emerge like his brother and sister's skills did.

Rhaenyra and the children are all doing well. She has spoke of the ease she has felt here on Driftmark and have told her that our home will always be open for her, no matter the circunstances. We are unsure of when she will return but it will likely be upon dragon back so I, Rhaenys, shall go as well so they don't have to carry two toddlers at once.

The Targaryen-Velaryon grows ever larger with the births of Prince Lucerys and the previous births of Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena.

Congratulations cousin on earning another grandchild.

Yours in blood, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, Lord Velaryon'

The absolute joy the man expressed at the ketter had the Queen picking at her nails, even as her children just watched or ate, content to ignore their father as he did them. She hated Princess Rhaenyra for birthing yet another child with the Valyrian features, but she did not understand the tidings it brought.

Yet another blessed child to aid the Blacks and the future of House Targaryen.

Prince Lucerys Velaryon, Second of His Name, Heir to Driftmark, Future Lord of the Tides, Stormborn, Undrowned, the Sea Dragon, the Sailor, the Red Star, had been born.

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #original character #laenor velaryon #lucerys velaryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #princess rhaenys targaryen #corlys velaryon #rhaenys x corlys #king viserys #queen alicent #driftmark #high tide #valyria headcanons #demigods #alternate universe #demigods of valyria

28 notes · View notes

aurorasilverthorne · 3 months ago

Text

Blood & Fire AU ___________________

Characters #2:

Laenor Velaryon

Only son of Corlys Velaryon & Rhaenys Targaryen. Brother of Laena Velaryon. Husband & friend to Rhaenyra Targaryen. Father to Jacaerys & Lucerys. Rider of the Dragon Seasmoke, a male with silver-gray scales & green eyes.

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Only living child and daughter of Viserys Targaryen & Aemma Arryn. Wife & friend of Laenor Velaryon. Mother of Jacaerys & Lucerys. Rider of Syrax, a she-dragon with yellow scales & green eyes.

Jacaerys Velaryon

The elder son of Rhaenyra Targaryen & Laenor Velaryon. Brother to Lucerys. Cousin & betrothed to Elaena Targaryen. Hheir to Driftmark & its driftwood throne. The rider of Caraxes, a male dragon with red scales called the Blood Wyrm. Tends to be stern, brooding & slow to trust & to forgive. Resents the fact that his mother stepped down as the heir after the birth of his uncles and aunt.

Lucerys Velaryon

The younger son of Rhaenyra & Laenor. Brother to Jacaerys. Rider of the young dragon Moondancer, a female dragon with light green scales & white highlights on her crest & horns. Is reserved, uncertain, worries constantly & is wary of strangers.

Jaehaerys Targaryen

The only child & son of Aegon Targaryen & Rhaena Targaryen. Grandson of Laena Velaryon & Daemon Targaryen. Fostered at Driftmark with his cousins, Jacaerys & Lucerys. Mentored by his paternal great grandparents Corlys & Princess Rhaenys.

Rider of the dragon Stormcloud, a young male with dark grey scales. Known for being a hard worker & quick thinker. Oft plays a peacemaker if & when bickering occurs amongst the Targaryen-Velaryon family members.

___________________

Disclaimer: I do NOT own House of the Dragon or any of its characters.

Note: The images of Jacaerys, Lucerys, & Jaehaerys all belong to me. Images were created using Bing Image Creator. If you use them in fanart or fanfiction, please do remember to credit both Bing & me as the image creators. Thank you.

Part #1: https://www.tumblr.com/aurorasilverthorne/758175401181872128/characters?source=share

Part #3: https://www.tumblr.com/aurorasilverthorne/758217659182645248/fire-blood-au-characters?source=share

Part #4: https://www.tumblr.com/aurorasilverthorne/758227678086283264/blood-fire-au-characters?source=share

Part #5: https://www.tumblr.com/aurorasilverthorne/758449181436362752/fire-blood-au-characters?source=share

17 notes · View notes

asykriel · 1 year ago

Text

Love is the Death of Duty - 12.

® do not repost or translate !

☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC

☆ Status: Ongoing

☆ Summary:

“He is half of my heart.”

War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name.

☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.

☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆

☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 from now on upcoming chaps only on- AO3 || Wattpad )

☆ Masterlist ☆ || ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆

➸ Previous part

➸ Next part

CHAPTER 12

Noon comes alive with the sound of laughter and the rhythmic clash of wooden swords upon the grassy clifftop next to Dragonstone castle. The sky stretches endlessly above them, its vibrant blue a striking contrast to the dark grey of the castle's stone walls. The sun's warm embrace bathes the landscape in golden light.

Jacaerys and Lucerys engage in a spirited sparring match, their wooden swords dancing through the air with a swift elegance. Despite the weight of the wooden brace that encases Jacaerys' injured arm, he moves easily. His torso is bandaged, a reminder of the injury he sustained during the incident on the beach. He reluctantly arrived on a Driftmark ship the day before, after being forced to leave Vermax behind with the Seasnake's fleet until he gets well enough to fly again.

On a higher vantage point, Daemon watches them nearby, his arms folded across his chest and eyes sharp.

Now, Jace acts like a training dummy for his younger brother to practice his moves on. He doesn't mind it though, he missed home like crazy and there was a point in the Stepstones when he was certain he'll never see Dragonstone again.

"Lucerys, watch your guard." Daemon's voice occasionally cuts through the sounds of their training, offering advice.

But he seems distracted, almost completely disinterested on babysitting them. Despite his usual vigilant presence, there is a distant gloominess to his expression, a hint of preoccupation that lingers in his thoughts. Jace knows exactly why. When he returned to Dragonstone, Daemon did not ask him anything about Maegor or whatever else went down in the Stepstones, but Jace had a feeling he already knows a lot. The Rogue Prince has spies in a lot of places that act like his ears and eyes.

Lucerys, his swordplay nimble and determined, tries to find an opening, jumping from one foot to another, but everytime, Jace parries one handed.

"How are you ever gonna win if you keep dancing like that, Luke?" His older brother teases him, playfully smacking his shoulder lightly, with the practice sword.

Luke scowls and lunges after him again. The wooden swords clash harder this time as the younger Velaryon tries to put all his strength into the blow. Unfortunately, once again Jacaerys parries even with one good arm and trips his brother, causing him to fall on his back in the grass.

"This isn't about strength, use your head more." Jace drops his wooden sword and extends his hand to his brother to pull him back up on his feet.

"Ugh I think Maegor rubbed off on you. You're starting to sound just like him."

"If it makes you improve, I'll take it as a compliment." Jace ruffles his brother's dark locks as they catch their breath.

The usual comments and observations about their posture and strikes that they expect to hear from Daemon never come.

Instead, when they both turn their heads towards the high ground where he's standing, the Rogue Prince isn't even looking at them. Too lost in thought, fixing his gaze on the horizon with a stern expression on his face. Something changes in the atmosphere, a shift in the air that draws their attention skyward.

With his seasoned perception, Daemon sees it before his step sons do. The dark form becoming larger, flying at a lower altitude and high speed towards them.

"Maegor is returning already?" Jace questions. But Daemon remains silent, his gaze narrows and his features hardening as he assesses the approaching dragon, while making his way next to his step sons instead.

Soon enough, it becomes clearer that it's not the Cannibal, but Vhagar instead. The thunderous sound of wings grows louder until Vhagar touches down on the clifftop, the force of her landing causing the ground to shake and the air to stir. Lucerys loses color from his cheeks as he watches the giant beast land close to where they are standing, knowing well enough who her rider is.

The dragon's deep rumble quiets down as she lays flat upon the ground, her presence commanding respect. Yet, there is an unexpected urgency in her posture, a sense of agitation that speaks of something amiss.

"Help! We need help!" A voice cries out, the desperation cutting through the air like a blade.

When the dust settles, the three finally spots Prince Aemond climbing down the dragon while he's cradling a limp body, his face etched with panic, as his one eye fixes the unconscious figure he holds in his arms.

It takes a moment for Jacaerys and Lucerys to register who it is. The shock sends a wave of dread crashing over them.

Their brother's body.

Jacaerys wastes no time rushing over to them, with Daemon on his tail, leaving Luke to stare at the image in shock, still trying to process everything.

"What happened?!" The eldest Velaryon questions in disbelief.

Jace can't comprehend that the same person lying unconscious in the grass is his brother with how sickly he looks. Maegor's complexion was always fair, but now his skin looks deathly pale, breaking in a fever alternating with a cold sweat, his lips are cracked, colored in a shade of blue. He looks like a corpse.

"He's been poisoned! I tried to help him, but he's getting worse by the minute. I don't know what else to do, he looks like he's going to die any moment now!" Aemond pants, blabbering on, his voice full of anxiety. His hands shake as they clutch onto his nephew's clothes, refusing to let go.

"Jacaerys. Fetch the maesters, hurry." Daemon steps forward and Jace barely waits for him to finish his command before running off. Daemon reaches out to touch his son's burning forehead, then going down to his chest to feel his weak breathing and process his condition. However rattled the Rogue Prince may be, he does not let it crack through his stoic persona in front of his nephew.

"We need to get him inside. Now." He tells Aemond and they both carefully lift Maegor's body, carrying him on their arms inside the castle. There's no malice this time in Daemon's voice when he speaks or looks at his nephew. He cannot afford wasting any second showing his disdain towards the Green pup when his son is taking his last breaths before his eyes.

For Aemond too, nothing else matters right now. He forgets the grudge he holds for Lucerys even when his nephew follows them inside the castle, keeping his distance before disappearing, probably to get his mother. He pays no attention to the thoughts that he is not wanted here, not even when the courtiers and servants gather to witness the scene in shock. Not even when he can hear the whispers and gasps behind him when they carry Maegor through the halls to his bedroom. The thoughts that his sister surely despises him like she despises his mother. Or that Daemon probably wants to take his head and send it off in a bag as a gift to his family in King's Landing.

All he cares about is Maegor. Seeing him healthy and on his feet again, on the back of his dragon so that they could fly together, side by side once more. If he loses his beloved nephew, Aemond will never forgive himself, might as well drink poison willingly, than let him die because he didn't pay enough attention, because he wasn't close enough to stop the Martell bitch.

"Who did this?" Daemon turns his attention to Aemond as they both step aside from the bed to give space to the maesters to work on Maegor.

"Alliandra Martell." Aemond grits his teeth seething in anger as he, recalls the events in his mind.

Daemon lets out a bitter laugh. If he knew this would happen, he would've had Qoren's whole family murdered years ago.

"And?"

"She's been dealt with, along with whoever was left in Old Palace."

"Good."

That's all Daemon needs to know. That whoever laid his hands on his family is dead and he only hopes they suffered greatly before the end.

When Aemond immediately set flight to Dragonstone, the Cannibal strayed behind, instead of tailing Vhagar. He was just as thirsty for vengeance as the Prince and left the Old Palace a pile of smoldering ruins. Trapping everyone left inside to burn alive or be crushed by toppling ruble, blinded by the rage for what they did to his rider. The beast's fury spared the older Prince from another trip to Dorne, like he initially planned. Aemond wanted to fly back himself and destroy the seat of House Martell once he brought Maegor to Dragonstone.

There's no need for this however. He can stay here, next to his bedside and wait until his nephew wakes up or until Daemon decides to kick him out or throw him in the dungeons, but not even that will deter him.

"Daemon! What happened, what's the meaning of this!?"

Rhaenyra bursts onto the scene, her pregnant belly prominent as she rushes through the hallway to Maegor's quarters. Her steps are hurried and her expression a mix of confusion and fear.

Aemond makes eye contact with her briefly, the surprise on her face tells him no one updated her on what happened until now. He says nothing, stepping out of the way to let Daemon intercept her and take her aside, a hand on the small of her back, preventing her from entering Maegor's bedroom. The younger Prince can't quite hear the hushed exchange between his uncle and sister, but he can guess he's trying soften the blow, to deliver the news in a way that will spare Rhaenyra the full weight of the situation. But, as expected, his sister's emotions are too raw to be assuaged by mere words. It doesn't work the way Daemon intends.

"I told you not to send them to war Daemon! I told you!" Rhaenyra exclaims in her husband's face, her expression full of anger and worry.

Aemond's eye flickeres between the tense exchange. It's evident that Rhaenyra's nerves are running high, and the gravity of the situation is not lost on her.

As the tirade continues the Rogue Prince grabs her hand, an attempt to offer solace and reassurance. But Rhaenyra's response is anything but compliant. She yanks her hand away, her gaze unwavering as she barges inside the bedroom, passing by Aemond like he's not even there. Inside she finds the maesters fussing over her son, giving him all sorts of concoctions and treatments in an attempt to break down the fever that gripped him.

Aemond watches how Rhaenyra approaches the bed, understanding the shared pain of helplessly watching a loved one suffer. For a moment there's a tinge of jealousy gnawing the Prince as he wonders if Alicent would react the same if he was the one lying in that bed instead.

Rhaenyra's hand hovers uncertainly, her fingers mere inches from her son's forehead. But she withdraws it. Her emotions are laid bare along with her vulnerability. She decides against caressing her son, fiddling with her fingers, over her belly instead. , Her hesitation is driven by a worry that touching him might reveal the cold embrace of death. She's afraid, she'll touch him and it'll feel like touching corpse. Stiff and breathless.

"Come, you need rest. Let the maesters do their job." Daemon comes from behind her, putting his comforting hands on her shoulders to herd her away from the bed. This time Rhaenyra relents and allows herself to be guided away, keeping her shoulders tense and the turmoil in her eyes.

"You should return to King's Landing at once, brother. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Rhaenyra stops in front of Aemond, this time his presence is no longer ignored.

"I will have to refuse, sister. I'm not leaving Prince Maegor's side." Aemond says firmly and honestly, trying to keep a polite tone. Daemon raises a curious eyebrow.

"I am not asking, Prince Aemond." Rhaenyra does not scowl or glare at him, but the tone in her voice makes up for the lack of harshness in her expressions.

The younger Prince bites his inner cheek, but keeps his cool. There's no need for snarky remarks if he wants to have any chance on changing his sister's mind.

Before he can answer, Daemon steps in instead. Surprising both his wife and nephew.

"Let the boy stay, it's the least you can do for saving our son's life."

Aemond's violet eye widens in surprise, his mind struggling to process Daemon's words. He wonders if exhaustion and anxiety are playing tricks on him, distorting reality.

But it was clear and real enough.

His sister's glance shifts between him and her husband, half surprised half cautious of the statement. Rhaenyra takes Daemon aside to whisper something silently in his hear before she leaves eventually.

Watch him, Daemon.

Aemond stays out of his uncle's way, he gave him the permission to stay, but it was clear that this is not a gesture of complete acceptance. He decides to slip back into Maegor's bedroom, choosing to sit next to the window overlooking the clifftop where Vhagar is resting. He watches over the maesters, carefully following everything they are doing with his eye.

It's not like his own maesters would harm him but after what happened in Dorne, Aemond finds it very hard to trust letting people around Maegor.

The sound of Vhagar's deep growl resonates through the window and Aemond moves his attention to her restlessness. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he watches Saagael appearing out of nowhere to land next to the larger dragon. Aemond was so focused on getting Maegor as quickly as possible to Dragonstone, that he left him behind when the beast started destroying the Old Palace. Altough, he has a feeling that the Cannibal caught up with them not long after, thanks to the strong bond he has with Maegor. Staying out of sight, lurking high above the clouds. Even if he now has a rider he's still just as wild, maybe even more vicious now that he has someone to defend.

"I was wondering whether or not he survived. A fine beast." Daemon mumbles, joining Aemond next to the window. His nephew, stays silent, only humming in approval.

His love for dragons is not news for Aemond, and he admires him for it. Aegon often joked around that he probably loves Caraxes more than his wife, but Aegon is a spoiled fool and a drunk that never understood or at least never seemed to care enough for Targaryen customs and pride. Aemond admires Daemon for a lot of things, even if he will never step on his pride to tell him that.

The beasts bear their teeth and rumble in acknowledgement for each other's presence. Ever since their first meeting, they've started to accept and tolerate one another more, snapping and snarling less when either Vhagar or the Cannibal got too close to each other. Mutual respect.

A glint of hope shines in Aemond's eye as he moves his gaze to the bed and sees how Maegor barely stirs. He's been limp and unresponsive ever since they arrived, until now when the maesters start putting moist towels wrapped in who knows what herbs all over his upper body, their faces etched with a mix of concern and concentration for their Prince.

Outside, a roar erupts and Maegor shifts again, this time more noticeable and Aemond's focus is drawn back to the clifftop. The Cannibal fixes his cold stare on the window to the bedroom high up in one of the towers, making eye contact with both Daemon and Aemond.

Whether it was the strong bond between them or all the medicine starting to work no one knows.

The black dragon cries out with a roar again. Seeking, calling for his rider. A cry that seems to resonate with something deep within Maegor's unconscious. And then, as if in response to the call, a faint change occurs, a raspy groan escaping Maegor's lips as he moves, a small sign that life still flickered within him. Just barely.

Aemond's heart races with hope and he rushes to his nephew's bedside, the maesters stepping out of his way in surprise.

"Maegor...Can you hear me?" The Prince asks, gently brushing a finger across his nephew's eyebrow in a tender gesture.

No expected response comes. No other sign of life.

Just Daemon coming from behind and placing a firm hand on his shoulder, gripping it almost painfully.

"Come nephew. A servant will show you to your quarters." He tells Aemond calmly, his voice carrying an underlying warning.

"I will not leave his side." Aemond replies firmly and he almost regrets it.

The Rogue Prince's demeanor shifts in an instant, his expression hardening as he harshly pulls his nephew aside, away from the wary and curious looks of the maesters.

"Don't mistake my tolerance for kindness boy. I've only allowed you to stay for Maegor's sake." Daemon's voice was a hushed whisper, but the intensity behind his words is as undeniable as the glare in his violet eyes.

"And for that I am grateful, uncle. But I-"

"Good, then while you are in my home and under my roof, you will do as I say. Unless you want to return to your mother, be it still standing or in a coffin that depends on you. Don't think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled at the feast." Daemon's tone brooks no argument.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, the fragile peace shatters in an instant. Aemond clenches his fists, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of his uncle's authority.

He bites his tongue, swallowing his retort, realizing that he needs to tread carefully if he wants to remain in Dragonstone. For the sake of his lover, he decides to endure whatever his uncle throws his way.

Thankfully, the guest quarters he's given are not that far away from Maegor's, close enough to offer him some relief and comfort. Despite his exhaustion, sleep evades Aemond, and he paces the room in restless agitation. He attempts to distract himself with a book he picks from the available bookshelf, but his mind is too preoccupied to focus on the words. Back and forth, pacing turns into idle reading, which turns into staring at the rock ceiling. The passage of time feels torturous, each moment stretching into eternity as he waits in solitude, hoping for a miracle to descend on his nephew.

Finally surrendering to the strain of the day, Aemond lets himself fall onto the bed. Sleep claims him, but it was a fitful slumber plagued by nightmares he cannot recall. A gasp tears through his lips as he awakes, his body drenched in cold sweat. His fingers instinctively touch his eyepatch that he forgot to remove before falling asleep, a constant reminder of what was stolen from him.

The room is now shrouded in darkness, a weighty silence pressing in from all sides. Midnight has fallen, and Aemond is trapped in a realm between wakefulness and dreams, his thoughts consumed by worry for Maegor.

The moonlight filters through the window, casting eerie shadows across the room that add to his restlesness in his bones. Aemond's heartbeat quickens as he forces himself to his feet, his body tense with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation.

The candlelight from the torches in the hallway slip under the door to his chamber as he moves towards it with cautious steps.

A soft sigh escapes Aemond's lips, a whisper of concern and longing. He raises his hand, his fingers hovering over the doorknob, before he hesitates once more. Aemond's resolve wavers, his emotions in turmoil. He wants to be there for Maegor, to watch over him, but he also fears the consequences of defying his uncle's authority, of testing his 'generosity'. He knows that defying Daemon's demands could strain their already fragile relationship even further.

Aemond's internal struggle plays out until he eventually gives in to his own stubbornness and worry for his lover.

Luckily, the dimlit corridor is silent, no servants or guards in sight at an hour so late. Akin to feline stealth, Aemond makes his way back to Maegor's quarters, and slips just as silently inside his nephew's chambers, carefully closing the door behind as if nothing but the a draft made it creak.

Herbs and incense burns, the pleasant and soothing aroma filling the bedroom as Aemond steps inside. He can only hope that the combined efforts of the maesters, who have been tirelessly tending to Maegor, will finally offer him some relief and bring him back from the clutch of that poison that will not let him escape.

Besides a steadier breathing rhythm, Aemond doesn't note any other change. But a small one is welcomed anyway.

Aemond sighs and drags an armchair next to the bedside. He sits in it, taking Maegor's feverish hand in his own and placing a kiss on his forehead as he starts his watch.

There's no telling how much Maegor can actually comprehend in his weakened state, but his uncle hopes that his presence, his touch, can offer some sort of comfort.

As the hours stretch on, Aemond's exhaustion catches up with him. The weight of his emotions and the constant vigilance he maintains all take their toll. Slowly, his eyes grow heavy, and he finds himself sinking into the armchair and back into slumber.

In the dim light of the chamber, the light sounds of Maegor's steady breathing serve as a lullaby of sorts. Aemond's breathing gradually match the rhythm, and his tight grip on Maegor's hand relaxes. Despite the turmoil that has surrounded them, the silence of the room provides a momentary respite.

As the night gives way to the first rays of dawn, a soft glow begins to filter through the window, bathing the room in a gentle, pale light.

In that serene morning hush, the door to the chamber creaks open.

Daemon steps inside, his footsteps quiet as he approaches Maegor's bedside. His gaze instinctively go first to his son. An expression a mixture of concern and relief on his face as he sees the subtle signs of improvement. Then his attention shifts to Aemond, who sleeps soundly in the armchair, unaware of his uncle's presence.

The sight is certainly unexpected, and Daemon's brows furrow at the defiance as he studies his nephew's vulnerable form. Aemond's very existence has been a source of tension in their family ever since his foolish son started pinning like a madman after him. But now, as his nephew slumbers so caressly. His defenses are lowered, his expression peaceful. It could be so easily for Daemon to just put a quick end to all of it. He could. He would if he had less wisdom. Firstly not because it would lead to war, but because of his son's reaction. Grief can turn people to insanity, he has seen it happen to others, the last thing he wants, is to put his son to go through it with his own hands.

Daemon's internal struggle is evident in his gaze as he regards Aemond. He prepares to awaken him, to address the situation and remind him of his place. Yet, a moment of hesitation stays his hand. Perhaps it is the sight of his son, the fragility of the moment, or a lingering memory of how Maegor was declaring his love for Aemond, shouting in Daemon's face, that makes him pause.

Instead of waking his nephew, the Rogue Prince steps takes him closer to the other side of his son's bed. He watches Maegor for a moment and his eyes fall to his hand held by his nephew's.

A bond that runs deeper than Daemon initially thought, blaming youthful lust and the natural curiosity of desires in the beginning. Now it was slowly becoming clearer to him that it's more than that, whether he likes it or not. Lust does not make people go to war and be ready to sacrifice their own lives for the other. Lust doesn't bond like this.

The faintest of smiles touches Daemon's lips as he lets out a silent snort of defeat.

With a final, lingering glance at the two, the Rogue Prince quietly turns and leaves the chamber. closing the door behind him and instructing the servants and maesters to not disturb his son until later in the day.

In this quiet morning, a temporary truce is granted, a reprieve from the conflicts that have plagued them, at least for a little while.

────────────────────────

(Fanart of Maegor and Saagael committing war crimes in Dorne drawn by rice.watermelon)

57 notes · View notes

come-along-pond · 4 months ago

Text

THE BLACK ROSE CHAPTER STILLS 3 | The Sons of Viserys the Peaceful

In two different eras, Leyla celebrates Queen Aemma's births, and Alerie celebrates Aegon's name day.

AO3| Wattpad | Quotev

taglist: @arrthurpendragon @bravelittleflower @ginger-grimm @dancingsunflowers-ocs @foxesandmagic @shrinkthisviolet @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl

Send an ask/message if you wish to be added or removed!

#fyeahgotocs #oc: alerie tyrell #oc: leyla florent #fic: the black rose #fyeahhotdocs #ocappreciation #allaboutocs #ocapp #ochub #my edits #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fic #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon x oc #Jacaerys Velaryon fanfic #Jacaerys Velaryon x original character

29 notes · View notes

xoxo-surfergirl · 4 months ago

Text

wash my sins away

V. The awful spirits of the deep,

aemond targaryen x fem!lucerys velaryon

abstract: lucera and aemond awake on a beach in storm's end, with no recollection of how they got there. they sense the brewing war, but amnesia has ripped away the memory of visery's passing.

themes: amnesia, dark aemond (he's a dark character so he's gonna come off as dark in this fic), all of rhaenyra's children are girls, enemies to enemies to lovers, eventual smut, medium burn

lucy's notes (lucy as in me, not lucera, lmao): the scene from this chapter is what inspired me to write this fic :)) this is cross-posted on ao3, where I currently have 8 out of about 13-14 chapters posted. Here's the link for the rest of the chapters.

word count: 6.2k

Lucera awoke with her neck cradled in Aemond’s arm, the warmth of his body stretching across hers. She felt the dead weight of him, and could feel his deep breathing navigating sleep. Part of his presence was still anxiety inducing, but her peace in his company grew with each passing day. She liked how she felt in his thick arms and how their bodies slid together effortlessly. She wondered if he noticed too.

He almost looks harmless when he’s sleeping.

Her eyes closed shut at the thought, content on the pure feeling of him, grasping this moment so that she may live in it for eternity. It felt good to be at peace in his arms. Lucera thought of their kiss, the way their lips and tongue harmonized so perfectly. His hands pulling her down and into him in what felt like an attempt to consume her.

His arms shifted, squeezing her tighter and closer. Aemond was awake now, and his normal self pursued.

It was a quiet morning, the townspeople subdued in their sleep depravity and ale sickness from the festivities the night before. The lanterns hanging above the square swayed lazily, only a few still lit. Papers and flowers were strewn in the now empty plaza, and the large bonfire had been sunken to ashes.

Aemond and Lucera lugged themselves out of bed in search of breakfast, the late night and ale making their heads spin. Through tired eyes they made their way to a tavern on the edge of the treeline, the soft glow of a cloud-covered sky and fresh air easing their aches on the short walk.

Aemond sat across from her, his cloak covering his hair. Lucera noticed that even through the shadow of the hood, she could still see the platinum hanging down his shoulder. He was carefully examining the dining room, quite empty at the moment since it was still relatively early. He had lowered his eye to look more directly just to the left of her.

He turned his gaze to Lucera. “I’ve seen those two everywhere as of late.”

“Which two?” Lucera quietly asked, noting their proximity.

Aemond lowered his voice. “The man with his hair pinned back, and the woman with the red cloak.”

Lucera attempted to subtly avert her gaze towards the pair. She noticed them immediately—it was hard to ignore his long, dark hair pulled carefully halfway up, leaving the rest to hang down. The woman was equally as striking, with a deep red cloak bordering on a neutral tone, but with just enough brightness to catch the eye.

“Do you believe them to be following us?” Lucera inquired, still unsure if she’d ever seen them before.

“They could be. It’s possible they know who we are. Maybe they even know why we’re here.” Aemond lifted his cup, pausing to take a drink. “But they can not be trusted. No one but us can be trusted.”

Lucera nodded uncomfortably.

Aemond didn’t wait for her to respond to his theories, and instead brought forward the one conversation they had been avoiding. “We can’t stay here forever.”

“I know.” Lucera looked down, unsure of how she felt. Truthfully, she knew nothing, and this fact was becoming increasingly frustrating. Her head warped around the potentialities for awaking drenched on Shipwreck beach, and none came to mind. There was nothing she could think of. “But we also don’t know what has occurred in our absence. It is wise for us to be cautious.”

What was he going to do now? Was there something blooming between them? Was it just her? Did she mean anything to him?

She knew of his darkness, and wanted to curse herself for developing any sort of feeling for him, but she couldn’t help herself. He was enigmatic, and it fascinated her. Aemond felt so far away and yet so close. He was the essence of Valyria: deadly and beautiful, haunting and irresistible.

Lucera tried to ignore her thoughts as the man in question was seated directly across from her. They waited in silence as the barmaid settled steaming bowls of porridge in front of them. It hardly looked appetizing, but it would fill their hunger.

Once the barmaid had run back to the kitchen, Aemond spoke. “What is your most recent memory?”

Lucera knew the answer immediately. She had sifted through her brain, each day attempting to find something hidden that wasn’t there the day before but to no avail. But she did remember one thing.

“I was in my mother’s solar, after dinner with King Viserys.” The dinner where you called my sisters and I bastards. It hung silently between them, but neither addressed it. “We were speaking about how we were to return to Dragonstone once we gathered our things. I do not remember a moment later.”

What Lucera didn’t add was how Daemon had thrown his rage into the room, claiming he would teach Aemond a lesson . How her mother had been distressed, feeling pregnancy aches and wailing about how she desired her turmoil with Alicent to be put to rest. How Jacaera and her had held each other’s hand watching and listening as their parents expressed their discontent.

Jacaera . She was certain Jacaera was terribly worried. As was her mother. As was Daemon. How long had she been away? Were they looking for her?

Lucera’s heart ached at the thought of their concern for her. She wanted to ease it.

Aemond interrupted her thoughts with his own. “I remember walking to my chambers after dinner. The last thing I recall is the sound of my door slamming shut. It seems our memory ends at the same moment.”

“Do you think anyone is looking for us?”

“If our absence is not intentional, I’m sure they are searching.” Aemond had a far off look in his eye. “At least I’m sure your mother would be.”

“And why not yours?” Lucera asked, already knowing his answer.

“Because I am the strongest out of all my siblings. If I am gone, they won’t question it too closely. They know I can survive on my own, and would assume that I have my reasons.” Aemond’s voice was void of doubt. They both knew that if his family had not known of his whereabouts, they would not jump to go looking for him, anticipating his eventual return.

“I would have imagined my mother and Daemon to rain hellfire upon my disappearance.” Lucera pondered curiously. “If we truly are missing, perhaps they have, or they will.”

“We can’t wait for half the realm to burn to figure it out.” She could see Aemond’s thoughts process on his face as he paused. “At the very least, we need to leave this village.”

“I do think that is wise.” Lucera nodded her head, taking in her first spoonfuls of porridge.

The rest of the meal was taken in silence, each of them lost in their heads. Aemond set another ring of his on the table in exchange for the meal—a severe overpayment at that. He thought of the suitress at court who had gifted it to him. He couldn’t care less for it, but it had suited his other rings quite well. Regardless, it would not be missed. The suspicious pair eyed him as he followed Lucera out the tavern, and he subtly caught their gaze in warning.

They had since returned to the Inn, gathering what little they had. The royal attire they arrived in had since dried, but was too revealing of their status to leave behind and it didn’t make sense to carry it along the length of their journey. They decided that the garments must be burned when they got the chance.

What little belongings they had were gathered and tucked away in satchels. Lucera looked at him, emotion filling her. She couldn’t quite figure him out, and it bothered her. Why had he kissed her yesterday? There were so many uncertainties, so many unknowns. She was tired of feeding into the confusion. They had been there for days . Had a sennight passed?

On her bedpost hung his cloak, which he had not yet thrown back over his shoulders. She wrapped it into her hands, unwilling to hand it over before she discussed the loudest thought on her mind. “When we go back to our keeps, are you going to continue hating me?”

With a solemn look on his face, Aemond exhaled. “I don’t hate you Lucera.”

She held a lengthy pause, unsure of what she was asking for. Lucera held his cloak tighter to her chest. The concentrated smell of him whirled through her nose as it puffed up by her face. Without his cloak, he would be too recognizable to leave. He had to answer her if he wanted to walk away.

“But you do. You treat me terribly Aemond, I won’t have any more of it.”

“Lucera. Give me my cloak.” He dismissed, not wanting to talk further on the subject. It wasn’t something Aemond felt like he could get into right now—his complicated feelings for her, their history, it all was too large of a subject to face. He needed more time to process it.

He wasn’t trying to treat her terribly. He didn’t have to call her a bastard anymore, that much was true.

But she wouldn’t relent, tucking the fabric deeper into her arms. “You offered me glimpses of vulnerability. I was naive to believe you were truly capable of it. Aren’t we at least friends now?”

Aemond scowled at her, his voice hardening as he stepped closer to her, power behind each of his strides. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to talk about it, or what made him so cold.

But to Aemond, now didn’t feel like the right time. Sure, in some ways it was—they had spent a quarter or two of a moon’s turn in each other’s ceaseless company, which in many cases would have been an adequate amount of time to confess or discuss complex emotions with someone. Not for Aemond, though. He had never approached this subject before, let alone with someone he’d loathed with his entire being all his life.

He kept his voice even, but there was a lowly threat in his words. “Lucera. Give it to me.”

“Why do you have to do this? Can’t you just answer the question Aemond?” She exasperated.

His patience slipped, and he lunged for her.

“Give me my cloak or I will take it.” There was a certain assuredness in his voice, accompanied by a venom that she couldn’t quite describe as he grabbed for the thick wool woven into her chest, wrenching it with force.

The air hung empty in the seconds that followed, as both of them sunk into the depths of their subconscious.

A spark was lit, and it traced the dry rope with its light, illuminating the rocky ground of their minds beneath it.

Give me my…

The silence stung between them, eyes searching one another, limbs frozen in place. It was close. Something was about to burst, and they looked at each other to try and find it.

Give me your….Give me your eye or….

Give me your eye or I will take it,

The explosion of the revelation was blinding. The lightning of revelation those words had illuminated flashed a series of more words, each echoed in the same timbre which they were delivered.

Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard.

The thunder was not far behind. Just like it was that night.

The wild expression in both of their eyes let each other know that they remembered everything .

The nonchalance in his stance, the way every pound of his being spat supremacy over her bastard existence. The echoes of light and growls of thunder outside. Vhagar’s shadow in the moonlight. Arrax and his beautiful scales. His plume of fire beaming against Vhagar’s head in the dark night. The sky-wide wet maw looming above her and Arrax.

Silent breaths hung in the room and they held each other’s gaze, unsure of everything.

It was heavy, deeply strung, and painful. Both had a hard time grasping the reality of it. Standing in the room. Images, sounds, and smells burning their way into their minds.

Thunder. Urgency. Desperation. Aemond’s laughter.

Ilībōños! Jemēla gēlȳni enkā, rina! Bastard! You owe me a debt, girl!

The cloak slipped from Lucera’s fingers, falling onto the floor. Her feet took her scrambling down the steps, a rapid clobbering gaining the attention of the patrons inside the tavern below. The stones on the village streets were uneven but she paid little mind.

She didn’t care if she fell and collapsed if her ankle slipped. The cobbles deteriorated to dirt and she sank into the anonymity of the forest of which there was no trail. She watched from a place inside her head as her feet took her far, far away from her existence. Where she belonged, she was not certain. A world without Arrax, and a world where her life could be ripped from her with nothing but a laugh, a world where she could never rest from fear of Aemond, was not one she could bear right now.

Her tears endlessly fell from her cheeks, and her breathing deepend until she reached a full sob.

Her vision became clouded and she slowed down a few paces, grabbing for a young birch, but running had been the only thing to prevent her from fully breaking down. She slid unceremoniously down the tree, her forehead in the trunk.

She crawled slightly away from it, breath heavy and painful in her chest. Hysteria took over, and the forest soaked in her wails, held her while she shook, and gave her its humble peace.

Time doesn’t exist when you’re grieving.

Lucera had reduced herself to a carcass, the soft moss offering the little comfort it could to her.

Aemond had run after her, but upon getting closer slowed to cautiously approach her, and observed her from a slight distance. His heart ached for her, and if he thought guilt and shame had overtaken him before, he had been oblivious to its potential.

He didn’t like seeing her this way. It was alarming.

He walked over to her, taking gentleness in every step. He put time into his approach so that she would know he was coming. He thought it best to not say anything out loud. He softly laid his hand over her upper arm, and slid it down to her hand.

Aemond sat there with her as the sun and clouds shifted, listening to her breathing. At least she was breathing .

“I get it. You’re stronger, you’re better, and you always will be.” Her voice was choked, lacking in spirit.

“I never wanted things to go that far.” Aemond was still processing his memory. He had tried to use that time to find the words to say to her, but hearing her voice made his mind fade.

“You’ve taken him. He’s gone. An-and you almost killed me too.” she rasped. “I’ve always been afraid of you, Aemond. I’ve hardly ever felt like I shouldn’t be. And now…I just can’t do it anymore. I give up. You’ve taken so much away from me. If you want to finish the job, then do it. I..I can’t live in this fear anymore”.

Part of him couldn’t believe he’d almost killed her. The other part of him…understood to some level. Aemond struggled to control his emotions, and the anger he had carried from childhood was some of the deepest and most rotten of all. He had let it fester into something much greater than it had to be. Every time he felt not good enough, every time he had felt the need to try harder and to be better, he pinned on her.

“I never wanted you to die.” He took a deep breath, hoping that he wasn’t making her heartache any worse by speaking. “I held onto so much resentment. You…you were just a child. And I was too, but sometimes life is cruel, and I should have handled the situation differently now that I’m older. I unleashed all of it that night, and I went too far.”

His tone had softened, but he steeled himself once more. “I should have never chased you through the storm. Vhagar, she could feel my anger.”

Lucera inhaled deeply, unsure on whether or not she should focus on his words or the emotions she was moving through.

“When I saw you falling, I commanded her downwards and tried to catch you but I was worried that you’d hit her wings too hard. I let you hit the water first and then untangled my saddle to jump in after you, but there was no way for me to get us back on her, so I had to pull us to shore.” While retelling the facts, his tone had once again slipped into something with less emotion, but looking at Lucera crumpled his heart again. He let the silence embrace her.

He got closer to her, reaching out his hand to cup her cheeks, swiping away her tears with his thumb. What had happened almost didn’t make sense because the implications were so grave, and yet it made perfect sense. He had almost killed her. Took her life from her.

Watching Lucera laying in front of him in the depths of her mourning, he didn’t want to admit that it made him feel powerful. Free. Released from the past, their past.

Their confrontation in Storm’s End was inevitable. There had been too much tension between them at the Red Keep when she had arrived—they both felt it. Aemond had not known what to do with the few words they had spoken to each other, while feeling so much within him. Anger, frustration, and other things he could not name at the time. All of it had only grown in their time together.

Every time she walked into a room, he couldn’t focus. Her blue gowns hanging over her skin were distracting. Her skin was perfect. Her hair was neatly done. She was the perfect image of a princess, and he would never be a charming prince. Not that he had wanted to be one for a very, very long time. But that was the point. She had robbed him of that. She had hurt him.

But now he hurt her. Was losing a dragon worse? Probably. But that didn’t matter. He understood it clearly now. They would be forever tied together, no matter their futures. Aemond needed to have her, to hold her, for her to be forever his. Her body, her mind, and her spirit were already tied to him so permanently, and it was time they stopped denying it.

“I understand now. You and I are tied together by blood. You have been indebted to me for years, and for years I have debated what I shall take from you” He reasoned, his demeanor now perfectly calm, sending her into a spiral of unease. She had thought he was apologetic just moments before, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“But on Driftmark you said that your eye was payment for a dragon. I thought there was no debt to be paid, only remorse to express” Lucera choked on her tears.

“Yes, my sweet niece, your dragon,” he trailed his fingers through her hair, calming her despite his words. “I should have never attempted to take your life, and for that I am sorry. But your debt is paid. Don’t you see? You no longer have to worry about payment for my eye.” His voice slipped into something deceivingly sweet, no longer in the same state of shock as she was. Lucera felt her stomach sink at his words.

He was just as dangerous as Lucera had assumed him to be. All of these soft moments, all of these little kindnesses that they had shared, did not show a different man hidden underneath. He was a monster, through and through.

“We are tied together by fire and blood. There may be no debt to repay anymore, but we are never escaping the inevitability of us.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear as tilted her chin to the side. “We burn together Lucie. We always have and we always will.”

She wanted to laugh, and she wanted to cry. Lucera had spent almost all her life incredibly concerned with what her uncle thought of her. She had tried to convince herself for years that she simply didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his hatred, but had recently discovered that she did want to be on the receiving end of his affections. How mad was she? Why was it him of all people? He was wild, untamed, driven to darkness by a myriad of unfortunate events. She was to blame, partially, and in realizing this, she realized what he meant.

In some twisted, fucked up way, she deserved this.

He pulled her up by her arms, away from the moss that had cradled her. The shock tracing through her system helped her reach her feet.

Aemond’s voice had an unnatural, sinister calmness to it. “It’s time we go, Lucie”

Another wave of realization came flooding through the gates of Lucera’s mind. Home. Dragonstone, where her mother had been crowned Queen . Where she had given Lucera orders from the seat of the Seven Kingdoms. Aemond’s idea of home was the Red Keep, where his brother had usurped her mother’s throne.

Lucera withdrew. “I’m going to my mother , to my Queen. ”

She saw the understanding flicker in Aemond’s eye. There had been so much focus on their confrontation in the skies, and none on what had been happening within their families. Both of them had hardly thought about it.

“My brother was crowned in front of the masses.” He droned, as if detached from any meaning that the sentence held, as if finally recalling the scene of the coronation play in his head. “I will not betray him.”

At his words, Lucera’s heart squeezed tight in her chest. She couldn’t tell what emotion it was. Grief, heartache, longing, sadness, anger. All of them.

Damn him. Damn their divided families. Damn her for cutting out his eye in the first place. Damn each and every complication.

“You—you always win. You always get what you want in the end. You humiliate me. You wanted your debt paid and you took it. And you get to return to Aegon and support him, with your new betrothal and slaying of my dragon.” Lucera said fiercely.

She was breathing hard, the frustration boiling. She didn’t want to elaborate on what she meant by feeling humiliated, but Lucera hoped he would understand her meaning. That she had feelings for him, that his long hair and carved face was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. That she saw him as a god she wanted to pray to. She wanted him to know, but her judgment declared against it, given their circumstances.

The brewing civil war hung thick between them. They both had flown to Storm’s End for the same purposes, to recruit a crucial paramount lord to their respective causes. Even through their childhood, through Driftmark, through years of separation, through Arrax, she had never felt more divided from him.

“I don’t win Lucera. I don’t see slaying Arrax as a trophy of conquest. It was an accident . One that I understand now, but it was unintentional nonetheless.” He paused. “We are forever intertwined, nothing will change that.”

Lucera read between the lines.

No war. No division between their families could change their bond, however complicated their dynamic was .

“But what do you mean? For all we know, we might meet again on the battlefield, Aemond. That could change that.”

“I won’t deny our fire any longer. You mustn’t either.”

When it came to threats to her mother’s side, there was only one true thing to be feared, and he was sitting across from her now. There was no one as cruel, no one as willing to do what it takes to succeed, and no one else who rode Vhagar. The other dragons would be a nuisance, but could be taken care of.

Should she just kill him now? End the war before it began?

As convenient as that might be, she knew she wouldn’t actually follow through with it.

Aemond reached for her hands. He looked at her as if he was being physically pulled away from her. Aemond didn’t say anything, he simply studied her face with longing. He looked pulled open and raw, his eye wider than usual. Perhaps he did truly care about her. Aemond smoothed his thumbs over top of each hand he held.

“Can I just hold you for a moment?”

Lucera was angry, but she didn’t have time to be angry. She wanted to shun him away for what he did.

But she couldn’t knowing that all of this, all of their time together was wretchedly temporary.

He felt it too.

“Yes.”

Blackwater Bay

Lazily removing the rag to cover his eyes, Aegon was greeted by a golden sunset. It was one of the less comfortable places he had slept—although in his youth he had spent his fair share of nights strewn in an alley on the Street of Silk.

It would have been impossible to fall asleep in the hull of the skiff with the sun beating upon him had he not paddled with vigor the entire previous night. He had succeeded in making it far enough away from King’s Landing to rest, setting out his anchor hours after dawn had broken.

Everything ached—his back, his arms, his hips, even his legs. He supposed it was a mixture of the most enduring physical activity he had ever done in his life and sleeping in a disagreeable place. That would do it.

But it would be worth it.

The pain was temporary, and no matter how much it burned him, it wouldn’t last. As he resumed his paddling through the night, the aches he acquired the day before were set alight with his renewed activity. In his most agonizing moments, he imagined the luxury of a large estate in Pentos, Volantis, or Myr. He had the connections, and the gold, and he planned on using it. It pushed him forward. It prevented him from stalling.

He was hoping to make it to the southernmost stretch of Massey’s Hook sometime in the night. The stars lit up the sky into something quite beautiful. He found himself missing Sunfyre. He found himself thinking about many things. The abyssal darkness of the water added to his thoughts.

After many hours of paddling, he noticed in the cloak of the night where the land began to creep upwards. The base of the Hook.

It’s about time . He thought to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow. But no time to rest, of course.

His limbs had reached a state of numbness, like gears in a machine that turn ceaselessly through the morning and night. Even after he lodged the skiff into the rocks on the shore, gathered his few belongings, and set out to find a village, his legs carried him. His hips were especially tight from sitting in such an uncomfortable position, and the lack of sleep in his body echoed through each fiber in his body.

Aegon figured that if he found a village and arrived in the early morning, he could escape some suspicion—as opposed to arriving midday, when everyone was teetering about.

The adrenaline from being a runaway king led his charge through the forested seaside, the acorns freckling the ground, the exhaustion, the aches. The sky was lifting from a deep night to a dark blue, and he knew that first light was approaching.

As anticipated, he spotted a shack in the distance—and then another one as he drew closer. And another. And, horses in the field beyond. Perfect.

He trudged harder.

There was a man, already preparing for his day’s work in the fields. Aegon straightened himself, pulled his cloak over his hair, and walked towards him.

“‘Scuse me good sir?” Aegon hardly recognized his own voice, it had been so long since he last spoke.

The man was scruff, with arms and a back that knew a hard day’s work—many of them. He looked up, curious about the disruption, and scowled.

“Whaddya want, boy” The man said, bored.

Aegon knew any lick of a royal accent would give him away.

“I want a mare o’ yours.” Luckily, Aegon also knew his way around the smallfolk, and knew how they wove their tongue around words. “I got plenty to pay you” he said, as he shook the bag of gold dragons at his hip.

The man, now much more intrigued than he was before, leaned in. “Now what kinda work has you getting paid like that?”

Aegon was ready for these questions, but he couldn’t over explain right away. He had to be clever. “Nothing that concerns you. But the money is clean, I promise.”

The man’s brows drove inwards. He eyed the satchel at Aegon’s hip—and it twinkled when he shifted his weight to his other leg. Only gold dragons sound like bells when they clink together.

“You have the balls to show up at my door, asking for one of my horses, the sun hasn’t even rose yet, and you won’t say a word about where the money’s coming from”

The man, though clearly intrigued by the payout, was skeptical. For that, Aegon thought he was wise.

They were standing near enough to each other now, eyeing each other carefully.

Aegon decided it was time to deepen his ruse. “I’m a mercenary. I do the dirty deeds so others don’t have to.” He strategically placed a hand on his other hip, which had a sheathed sword. “I’m quite good at it.”

The subtle threat was understood.

The man threw his hands up, lightening his attitude. “Ah ah, I want no trouble. 6 gold dragons for the brown one. She rides good, fast too.” His voice caught when asking for the price. Aegon knew he had probably never touched a single gold dragon in his life.

It was a steep price for a horse, but Aegon was feeling generous that day. The man needed the money more than him, anyways.

“Let me look at her first. If she’s sound, we’ve got a deal.”

The man led Aegon over to the fields across from them, where the warm brown coated mare stood grazing. She had a white diamond on her forehead that reminded Aegon of the southern star.

Her legs looked sturdy, she was well fed, and she was tempered. Aegon dropped the coins in the man’s hand, and the man guided the horse to a shack, where he fit the horse with a saddle and reins.

Aegon reached over and shook the man’s hand. “I’ll be on my way. My business will stay out of yours, I swear it.”

It wasn’t a lie, and it would soothe the man. Aegon slung his leg over the horse’s back, and pulled the reins to guide her west.

The sun was rising now, as he trotted through the countryside. He had never ventured into this part of Westeros on foot, but had seen it plenty of times on dragonback. From above he could see the tops of trees, with whistling streams and rocks peeking through. He thought it was beautiful, but that it would perhaps be more enjoyable in different circumstances.

As the hours wore on, Aegon felt like a half-dead man tied to his horse—slumped and barely hanging on. Somehow his head was still attached to his shoulders. If his estimation were correct, he was somewhere near the base of the finger peninsula of Massey’s Hook. On horseback, he should be able to reach Stonedance in a few days if he was quick about it. Stonedance was sure to have a village looking to sail towards the Narrow Sea—there was certain to be a proper boat from all the trade. If he had to hide himself in a cask of brandywine, then so be it. Pain was temporary. Uncomfortableness was temporary. He would survive.

A small town was taking shape through the hills and trees, and Aegon was thankful for it. He needed food. Perhaps he could rest too—but he’d need to contemplate more on that idea. It was most likely not the smartest move in the moment, but it was possible he’d be able to spare a few candle marks.

Would he hear the news of his absence? No—most likely he wouldn’t. It would be a secret for as long as his mother and a select few could manage it, even when the search party eventually reaches the realm. With Rhaenyra crowned as the Black Queen, there was no chance those in the Red Keep—the ones that had fought so hard to arrange his ascension—would let his sister and his uncle know of his absence. It would have to be kept so deeply under wraps, lest Rhaenyra use it to her advantage.

Aegon couldn’t deny his curiosity. He was interested to know what exactly would happen in his absence. He had never been above wanting to hear the latest whispers in the castle, the city, or the realm. Aegon knew everyone in the castle and had numerous friends within and without it. His wide web was something he was proud of, and he wanted to know all of the happenings tied up in it.

The throne would be an empty seat. Aemond was god knows where, so he was out of the question for ascending it in his absence. Would he come out of hiding if he knew Aegon was gone and there was an open seat looking to be taken? Of course he would. Aegon had no doubt of that. Even still, Aemond would also probably go searching for him. But if Aemond was still missing, that left Daeron, who was still so young. It most likely wouldn’t deter the green council from pushing him up there, but it would be a weak stance to hold against Rhaenyra.

Especially since without him and Aemond, there were two less adult dragons—which is really all that ultimately held significance, anyways. He prayed no open act of war could cause such things to matter, but it was hard to push away such thoughts in dark times. His stomach curled at the notion.

However Rhaenyra planned to win over the throne, he wished it to be peaceful. Aegon had wished that his initial runaway attempt had been successful. Maybe then, Rhaenyra might be sitting on the throne now, his brother wouldn’t have gone missing, and the whole mess could have been avoided. It was more complicated than that, but he had always been a wishful thinker. He’d known that Rhaenyra was considering terms for peace at this very moment, but rumor had it that Lucera had not returned from Storm’s End either.

Aegon’s head was starting to hurt. He hadn’t fully thought any of this through as he’d been so wrapped up in his own plans for escape that he hadn’t thought about Lucera and Aemond. It was so obvious, wasn’t it? How had he missed that connection?

There were now cobbles underneath the mare’s hooves. This town was laid in gray bricks. Aegon noticed it made the whole place look quite drab. He led his horse straight to where he could see people gathered outside with horns of ale in their hands. It had to be the tavern. He sluggishly slid off of her back and onto the ground, ignoring the attention his arrival was attracting. His aching bones wouldn’t allow for him to do much else. Making sure the cloak was fastened around his head, he opened the weather worn door and made his way to the closest table through the shoulders cloaked in wool.

Aegon had a pit of dread creeping through him. He knew Aemond. He was unrelenting, driven. And nothing drove him to madness the way Lucera did. It was plain—Aegon knew Aemond blamed every hardship in his life on the Velaryons, especially Lucera. If Viserys had shown the same amount of affection for them, Aemond’s life path would have started off differently. Perhaps he would have more forgiveness and openness in his heart. But then of course there was the eye conundrum, and it had solidified Aemond’s belief of the world’s detestation of him forever, and Lucera was at the heart of it. There was something behind his eye when he looked at her. It was narrow, focused, and deep.

Aegon saw where a confrontation of the two could lead them, especially after the tension that was present the last time he saw them together. It was nowhere good. He didn’t want to think too hard about it.

He needed a drink.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x female lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x original female character #aegon ii targaryen x female jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x lucerys velaryon

9 notes · View notes

kckt88 · 11 months ago

Text

Drowning Inside You

Summary:

The Omega daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon is to marry her Alpha uncle Aemond Targaryen.

Valaera might have been glad to be getting married, if it wasn’t for the fact that her future husband was the boy she’d maimed with a blade when she was a child.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Warning(s): Fear, Kissing, Smut, Oral (F) Receiving, P in V, Knotting.

Word Count: 2562

Author Note: An Alpha/Omega Story.

(Otto Hightower passed away shortly after he was dismissed as Hand of the King, Harwin Strong and his father died in a fire at Harrenhal and Laenor spent the rest of his life rowing to Essos with Qarl).

Inspired by the song Drowning by EMO + Melodia.

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Valaera kept her eyes on the floor as she walked the length of the sept. Hoping and praying that perhaps a dragon would crash through the ceiling and end her suffering.

The marriage to her Uncle Aemond was set, another attempt at peace between their family. Valaera might have been glad to be getting married, if the groom wasn’t in fact the uncle she’d maimed with a blade when she was a child.

Valaera took a deep breath and raised her head, catching sight of Aemond standing with the septon, his Targaryen cloak wrapped loosely around his shoulders. His face unreadable as he patiently waited for Valaera.

As Valaera was an unmarried Omega and the heir to Driftmark, it was her duty to marry an Alpha capable of bearing the title consort Lord to Driftmark when the time came. Whilst Aemond was more than capable, Valaera couldn’t help but wonder what her cold uncle had instore for her once the vows had been spoken and the time came for the marriage to be consummated.

Would he be rough? Would he demand an eye? Or would he simply torment Valaera for the entirety of their marriage for what had happened on Driftmark all those years ago?

Even his reaction to the news that they were to be wed wasn’t what Valaera had expected. Aemond merely nodded his head at his father the King’s demand and never uttered a single complaint. Alicent on the other hand was very vocal at her displeasure of her favourite son being married off to the ‘vile beast that had left him without an eye and scarred for life’.

Valaera’s own mother wasn’t so keen either, begging her father countless times to see reason. But Viserys would not be moved. The marriage would happen. As demanded by the King.

Finally, after what seemed like an age Valaera came to a stop beside Aemond and prayed to any god’s that were listening that they would have mercy on her and give her the strength to get through the ceremony without throwing up.

“Let it be known that Prince Aemond of House Targaryen and Princess Valaera of House Velaryon are one heart, one flesh, one soul. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal Alpha and Omega together, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

Aemond slowly turned to Valaera, and offered his hand to the Omega, who hesitated for a moment before taking the Alpha’s hand.

“I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," Aemond said, his gaze lingering on Valaera who blushed furiously as the septon bound their joined hand together by ribbon.

“I-I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," Valaera said, his heart racing furiously in his chest.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love”.

Valaera froze as Aemond leaned down and placed a surprisingly gentle kiss upon her lips.

"Ao se nyke. Issi va ñellyrty perzys. Se nyke jāhor va moriot gūrogon ziry iksos ñuhon” whispered Aemond (You and I. Are fire made flesh. And I will always take what is mine).

All throughout the feast, Valaera couldn’t get Aemond’s words out of her mind.

He’s going to carve out my eye. That’s it. I’m done for!

“You seem tense. Wife”.

Valaera jumped slightly at the sound of Aemond’s raspy voice.

“I-I’m just nervous” Valaera replied quickly.

“About what?” asked Aemond as he lifted his goblet to his lips and took a slow sip of wine.

“T-The bedding. I-I’ve never…” said Valaera quietly.

“So, you’ve never taken your brother’s knot?” asked Aemond curiously.

“J-Jace? I would never. He’s my brother” exclaimed Valaera wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Like that’s ever stopped anyone in this family”.

“I come to the marriage bed untouched uncle. Can you say the same?” asked Valaera.

“Would it matter if I didn’t? I’m an Alpha and Prince of the realm no one would care if I busied myself on the streets of silk every night”.

“So, your just like Aegon then?” asked Valaera, her shoulders slumping slightly.

“I’m nothing like my wastrel of a brother. If it would please my Omega to know that I have only had one such experience” snapped Aemond.

“You expect me to believe that. I mean look at you” said Valaera.

“What about me?” snarled Aemond, his fingers clutching at his goblet so tight they had turned white.

“Y-Your b-beautiful” whispered Valaera.

“Is that so? Even with the deformity that you so charitably bestowed upon me when I was naught but a child?”

“Y-Yes” muttered Valaera.

“Hm”

“Do you plan to hurt me uncle?” asked Valaera nervously.

“I would not hurt you. Unless you asked me too” Aemond whispered as he leaned closer, his wine scented breath tickling Valaera’s ear.

“B-But I took your eye.”

“Yes. You did. But I gained a dragon and there’s other blood that can be spilled in payment for what you took from me” said Aemond.

Oh!

This was it. The way she was going to die. Death by dicking.

Her uncle stood sharply and offered his hand to Valaera.

It was now time to consummate the marriage. Her mother of course had given her the talk just last night. She knew of sex and how children were created, but to hear her mother talking of slick and knots made Valaera want to be sick in the closest vase.

Nothing would ever prepare her for being locked together with her one-eyed uncle until his knot went away.

Valaera jumped as Aemond squeezed her hand. Ignoring the jeers from a clearly drunk Aegon who was soon reprimanded by his own Alpha husband. Aemond led Valaera out of the throne room and towards his-their chambers.

The door suddenly seemed so loud as it was closed.

I suppose I could always jump out of the window and break my legs in the process. It would hurt like hell, but it would be worth it…Right?

Valaera shook life a leaf as Aemond stood before her and slowly began removing her wedding clothes.

“Do you fear me?” Aemond whispered.

“Yes Valzȳrys” Valaera said as she quickly stepped out of the dress that Aemond had unlaced (Husband).

“Issa dōna omega (my sweet omega)”

“Alpha” gasped Valaera as Aemond leaned forward and pressed his face into her neck and nuzzled her mating gland.

It wasn’t…It shouldn’t…Why did that feel…good?

Valaera stood silent, as she suddenly felt herself growing hot. That little voice inside her head whispering. Encouraging her to get closer to the Alpha.

“īlon emagon va moriot issare bound naejot each toile” said Aemond he stepped back and began pulling at his own clothing (We have always been bound to each other).

My mother never said anything about…No…Stop…I shouldn’t even be…Not whilst Aemond is…Oh…It feels so good.

Valaera had lost most of her senses the moment Aemond had pressed her onto the bed and knelt down between her open legs.

“Issa dōna omega” whispered Aemond (My sweet omega).

Valaera’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.

It was difficult to believe. Aemond Targaryen rider of the mighty Vhagar was on his knees as naked as his name day, tongue deep in her…Oh my god.

Valaera bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.

“Ivestragī issa rȳbagon ao issa dōna” growled Aemond (Let me hear you my sweet).

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Valaera.

Her heart was racing, it felt so good. Yes. Yes Aemond. Please. Something is happening. I feel like I’m going to explode.

Aemond pressed two fingers inside Valaera, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake.

His tongue…His fingers…Oh it was heaven. Don’t stop. I beg you don’t stop.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.

Valaera arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond crawled up Valaera’s body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Valaera blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself my little strong girl” murmured Aemond.

“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Valaera.

“Relax and let Alpha take care of you”.

Easy for him to say…He’s not the one who…Oh my…He’s huge…Surely that won’t fit inside will it?

Almost as if he could read Valaera’s mind, Aemond smiled and began peppering gentle kisses all over Valaera’s face.

“You can take it. Ao istan vēttan syt issa” whispered Aemond as he began rubbing his hard cock along Valaera’s wet folds (You were made for me).

I want him. I want him so much. Take me alpha. Please.

Suddenly Aemond rolls his hips forward and the entire hard length of him is buried inside Valaera.

“A-Aemond” shrieks Valaera.

Aemond stills for a moment, almost as if he is savouring the feeling of Valaera’s tight wet heat being wrapped around him.

He’s so deep inside me. I can feel him everywhere. It hurts. It hurts so good.

“M-Move please Alpha. I need you” begged Valaera desperately.

Aemond rolls his hips gently at first, allowing Valaera the time to adjust to the feeling of his cock moving back and forth inside her, but when his sweet Omega begins issuing pleas of “Harder and faster” Aemond loses it and begins fucking Valaera into the mattress.

Their hips pound together as Aemond thrusts hard and fast, his movements brutal and precise.

“Valaera. My Omega” moans Aemond as his cock begins to thicken at the base.

Yes. Yes. Oh, it’s feels so good. Alpha don’t stop. Fuck me harder. I can take it.

“Going to fill you up with my seed. I want to see you swollen with my pups” hisses Aemond.

Yes. Alpha breed me. I want to grow round with your pup. I will give you as many pups as you desire.

“Y-Your neck. I need too…Claim you” growls Aemond.

“Yes, Alpha claim me. Make me yours. Forever” begs Valaera as she quickly turns her head to the side.

“I've always wanted your sweet cunny” moans Aemond as his knot begins to tug against Valaera with every thrust.

As Aemond gives one last thrust and forces his knot inside Valaera, he leans forward and sinks his teeth into Valaera’s mating gland.

Valaera screams in ecstasy as she feels Aemond throb inside of her, coating her insides with rope after rope of his seed.

Aemond suddenly moves his head to the side to display his own neck and Valaera lunges forward. Whilst her teeth are not as sharp as Aemonds, they still manage to puncture his mating gland. Sealing Alpha and Omega together forever. Their bond snapping into place. Their hearts as one.

I can feel him. My Alpha. My mate. My dragon.

“My Valaera. Always” mutters Aemond.

Valaera was married, she was mated, she had an Alpha, and she was completely exhausted.

Her Alpha had a ravenous appetite last night, kissing, sucking, licking, and fucking her well into the hours of the night. Never fully satisfied until he’d filled her with his seed another two times.

Aemond was absolutely insatiable, even just this morning he had reached for Valaera and had her once more.

Afterwards, Aemond had wrapped his arms around Valaera and held her close as the pleased purrs rumbled through her chest.

The feeling of Aemond inside her, the sound of her Alpha’s moans as he spilled his seed. Oh, gods the way Aemond had kissed her. No stop, I can’t be thinking of him-us like that not now, not when I ache so much.

B-But it was so good.

Valaera was aching and she was sore in places she never knew existed.

Even sitting at the table to eat breakfast was rather uncomfortable.

Aemond had given Valaera a quick kiss before leaving their shared chambers after breakfast, his training with Ser Crisp-Criston still of importance.

How her Alpha even had the energy for training this morning, Valaera would never know.

Must be an Alpha thing, enhanced virility, or stamina or whatever it was.

At least having some time alone, meant Valaera could bathe.

The maids of course had swiftly changed the blood and seed stained sheets and prepared a bath for the satisfied yet thoroughly debauched looking Omega.

Her skin was littered with numerous love bites, yet she was sure that her Alpha also wore the marks of their vigorous love making in the form of long scratches on his back, which of course Aemond seemed to enjoy receiving.

Valaera sighed as she lowered herself into the lavender scented hot water.

The warmth soothing the dull throbbing ache between her legs.

After Valaera had successfully scrubbed the dried blood and seed from her body, she rested her head on the edge of the tub and closed her eyes.

Again, her mind was drawn to her Alpha, just yesterday morning she’d been a nervous wreck, the very thought of bedding Aemond was terrifying, yet now the very though of her Alpha’s huge…

“Valaera”

Valaera jumped at the sound of her older brother’s voice.

“Jace, seriously. Do you even know how to knock” snapped Valaera as she covered her body.

“I did knock. You didn’t answer” replied Jace.

“So, you just thought you would barge into my rooms, it's a good job Aemond isn't here”.

“Mother was worried. So, I said I’d check on you” Jace retorted as averted his gaze and began looking around the room.

“As you can see, I’m still alive” grumbled Valaera as she quickly rose from the bath and wrapped a towel around her body.

“How was it? I mean for us Alpha’s it’s easy but an Omega-“

“I’m fine Jace. Aemond was nice, he took care of me” mumbled Valaera.

“He more than took care of you judging by those love marks on your neck” sniggered Jace.

“Don’t you have your own Omega to annoy” growled Valaera as she ducked behind the privacy screen and began pulling on her riding clothes.

“Boy somebodies grumpy today”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night that’s all” muttered Valaera.

“How many times did you guys-“ laughed Jace wiggling his eyebrows.

“Three times and then again this morning” confessed Valaera blushing.

“There was me worrying that he’d carve out your eye the moment he had you alone and instead he was too busy fucking you into the mattress” exclaimed Jace as he wrapped an arm around Valaera and hugged her.

“You weren’t the only one that though he would take my eye, but Jace he was-it was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before” whispered Valaera.

Her mind yet again wondering to her Alpha and his perfectly sculpted body, his long silver hair, and that handsome face. Her husband was truly a gift from the god’s of old Valyria.

“Right before you start slicking yourself at the thought of your Alpha, how about we go flying? Your already dressed for it anyway and I’m sure Vermax would enjoy the company” said Jace smirking at his younger sister’s blushing.

“Fine, but only if we can race” urged Valaera excitedly.

“Sure we-Hey you cheater” shouted Jace as Valaera darted past him and ran out of the room, her laughter echoing down the corridor.

Jace gave an annoyed huff before he gave in and chased after his sister.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #alpha omega #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd smut #hotd fic #jacaerys velaryon

268 notes · View notes