#Laena and Rhaenyra had a beautiful relationship!

[sadlittlecountess]

imagine if we had the full depth of rhaenicent and laenyra... the homoerotic angst of it all. the jealousy and the sense of betrayal that Alicent would feel. The yearning and bond between Rhaenyra and Laena— but above all else, a sisterhood. Rhaenyra and Laena were present in each other’s milestones in motherhood.

Imagine Rhaenyra thinking, I wish I had this with Alicent. Alicent thinking Rhaenyra has betrayed her, how could she not try, put effort when I tried so hard??? the sisterhood and love is broken! All that I wanted for us, she does with Laena!

I hate how the show pit Nyra and Laena against each other. Had Laena feeling as the other woman. JUST SICK!!! They raised their children together, their children weren’t strangers—- I hate how the writers cut out so much, and changed details.

I wish Alicent and Rhaenyra mended their relationship, their kids got along at some point, but it came down to the expense of Aemond.

What I’m trying to say is that, yes, Laena, Alicent and Rhaenyra were their own persons. And each woman shouldn’t be seen as an accessory of the other— but their love was whitewashed a lot, and it breaks my heart.

We could have had it all, but the writers are cowards.

[sl-ut]

a prince’s desire

so sorry if this sucks lol I just got really high and wrote this in like 2 hours lolol

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!pregnant!reader x daemon targaryen

description: after being reunited with her lover, rhaenyra takes her back to dragonstone to join her family and requests that daemon take her as a second wife. now, over a year after the wedding, rhaenyra wants nothing more than to see her wife pregnant, and daemon is more than happy to oblige.

warnings: SMUT, pregnancy, reader gets pretty depressed while she's preggo, mentions of masturbation, angst, slight canon divergence, alcohol consumption, mentions of (consensual) adultery turned polyamory, mentions of death (adult and children :((( ), polygamy, swearing, all other canon warnings (incest (i try my hardest to not lay this one on thick bc ew), violence, sexism, etc)

words: 5K

date posted: 27/03/24

previous installments: a princess's order a lady's demand

After his third marriage, Daemon Targaryen had absolutely no intentions of taking another wife. His history with married life had not necessarily been a good one; Rhea Royce had been nothing but a royal pain in his ass; He’d been happy with Laena, though her life came to an end far too soon; He did love Rhaenyra, though ambition and pride often came between them. Mistresses, sure–Daemon was a rather insatiable man, and Rhaenyra had been almost consistently pregnant during their early years of marriage, but he’d never even once considered that he might have to stand through yet another wedding ceremony, especially one that had been arranged and encouraged by his still living wife and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. 

He hadn’t been at all surprised when Rhaenyra confessed to him that she had once loved her childhood friend, nor that she did not think that she would ever truly be able to move past the conflict between them or love another quite the same. Of course, she loved Daemon, and even Laenor and Harwin to some degree, but none would ever stand up to her very first love that she’d allowed to slip through her fingers like running water. He was equally unsurprised to find that she’d not returned to their rooms on their first night back in King’s Landing, nor that she would return in the early hours of the morning with a familiar glow that he’d only seen on her after their own late night activities, especially since he’d caught wind earlier in the evening that Lady Y/n Y/l/n had returned to the capitol a widow.

There were things that he had expected from this relationship; The two would fuck, of course, to make up for lost time, they would spend the majority of their days strolling through the gardens as they had done when they were girls, and Y/n would perhaps even return to Dragonstone with them as her mistress. Daemon could not exactly blame his wife for her affections, Lady Y/n was undeniably beautiful, and he would certainly take her to bed if he were ever given the chance. She could remarry, of course, she was still young and she’d already proven herself to be fertile, even if the children had not survived infancy. Any man would be a fool to turn her away, which is exactly why Daemon found himself standing before her on the black-sand shores of Dragonstone, a chalice between them and blood dripping from either of their lips. Rhaenyra had watched on with glee, rushing forward the moment that the ceremony had been complete to engulf her new wife in a tight embrace, sealing their own union with a firm kiss. 

Daemon had not been included in the wedding night activities, though he had been invited to watch, which he did so from the balcony of their chambers in order to give them their own space. Rhaenyra’s body had been glowing in the candle light, curves and smooth, milky skin on display for him and their new wife to admire as they both had time and time again in the past. Daemon could not tear his gaze away from their new wife’s figure, no matter how hard he tried. He blamed it on the novelty of having a new wife, especially one that he was not even able to touch on their wedding night, and he might have reacted the same way if he were to see any woman naked for the first time. He stroked himself on the balcony, low grunts leaving his lips as her moans reached his ears, eyes tracing over her breasts, the pudge of her stomach, the curve of her spine, and–oh… he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman’s core glisten like that before, nor had he ever heard such a prominent squelch as the Targaryen princess dipped her fingers inside. He’d always known she was a beautiful lady, but now, oh now he was able to understand to some degree why Rhaenyra was so strongly under her spell. 

Just over a year had passed, and Daemon had still yet to enjoy his newest wife to the extent that he would have liked. He did enjoy getting to know her personally, finding her much more amusing than he had expected, and they often found themselves sitting together in the evenings while Rhaenyra was busy with her royal duties. They had kissed each other on several occasions, and she had once allowed him to kneel beneath her skirts one evening after a tad too much wine, but nothing further had developed in their physical relationship. 

She had fit into their family easier than any of them could have expected. She was good with the children, taking them all under her wing as if they were her own, though her relationship with both Rhaenyra and Daemons older children was a bit strained in the beginning. Children were a bit of a sore topic for her; She rarely spoke of her own late children, but both Daemon and Rhaenyra could easily tell how broken she was over their deaths. She and Rhaenyra had bonded even more after Rhaenyra had lost her own daughter in labour, all three parties agreeing that Rhaenyra would not have any more children. 

That did not change the fact that both Daemon and Rhaenyra could tell that Y/n longed to be a mother once more. She honoured her own boys on their name days, and on the anniversaries of their deaths, but none of Rhaenyra’s children saw her as a mother, nor did she expect them to. They both noticed the way she had this longing stare in her eyes each time that one of the younger children called for their mother, or as Jacaerys and Lucerys slowly grew into young men, as her own children would not be much younger than they are now had they survived their sickness. It was just after the one year anniversary of Daemon and Y/n’s wedding that Rhaenyra proposed to him that they offer Y/n the chance to have another child, as many as she was willing to carry, but of course it would ultimately be her decision; Neither of them were very fussed either way, they both already had a small militia of children of their own, but they would be happy to welcome more into the world, especially if it meant that she would be tied to the Targaryen bloodline through more than marriage. 

They waited a while longer to bring this to her, but Rhaenyra had been subtly encouraging her to spend more time with Daemon, and even suggested that they might begin sharing a bed with one another from time to time, whether it be on their own or with Rhaenyra present. She assured her that he was in fact attracted to her, pointing out how she is the one that he stares so longingly at when he watches them together. It was not that Y/n had been opposed to this, she was equally as attracted to Daemon as he was to her, but she had not been with a man since her late husband, and she had not expected to ever take another man to bed again now that she and Rhaenyra were officially together. 

The conversation was finally brought to her a month after she and Daemon spent their first night together. They had been intimate, but she had still not allowed him to be inside of her, instead opting to pleasure him with her mouth, hands, and breasts. Rhaenyra whispered in her ear during supper one evening, suggesting that they invite their husband to join them that night, which she excitedly agreed to, completely unaware of what sort of proposition they would offer her, and she was especially surprised at how quickly she consented to their idea.

Rhaenyra had knelt behind her that night, both straddling their husband’s hips as the blonde gripped her wife’s waist to aid her movements, guiding her with every bounce of her long cock and whispering praises into her ear between kisses on her neck. Daemon had been uncharacteristically happy to sit back against the headboard and watch as his wives moved in unison over him, grunting as the tight squeeze of her velvet walls around him. He could hardly pull himself away from her lips, eagerly swallowing every one of her sweet moans as he emptied himself inside of her, sighing as she slumped back against Rhaenyra as she reached her own peak.

They had continued this for months until the maester finally confirmed that Y/n was with child, her skin glowing in delight at the thought of having a child to raise with her husband and wife. By the fifth month of her pregnancy, her stomach had swelled enough to show through her heavy gowns, and her hormones had taken full effect of her everyday life. 

If it weren’t bad enough that she was constantly fatigued, or that her feet and back ached, or that her breasts were swollen and tender to the mere brush of her gown against her sensitive nipples, she had also grown to be absolutely insatiable. She found that her thighs were constantly slick with her arousal, and that she was able to bring herself to orgasm in the simplest ways, even by just sitting on certain pieces of furniture. Daemon and Rhaenyra could no longer enjoy bedding her on the same night quite as regularly as before, all because of how regularly she was mewling for them; Daemon had even jokingly suggested that they encourage her maids to pleasure her throughout the day so that they could keep up with her, only to be met with Rhaenyra’s palm slamming into the back of his head. It even came to the point where Rhaenyra felt the need to consult the maester about how regularly all three of them were being intimate together, who advised that, as her pregnancy developed, physical intimacy may result in causing her pain.

Instead, Rhaenyra encouraged her to participate in some “self-care” routines, as she had called them, telling her that pregnancy could cause her to think poorly of herself in many ways, so she thought it best that she take long, hot baths under the candlelight, drink honeyed wine and have her maids soak her in scented oils before taking the initiative to pleasure herself as much as she desired. Daemon had not been so keen on this idea, considering that he was constantly finding her with her hands between her thighs and not allowing him to cut in until she had finished, meaning that she was incredibly sensitive and could not take quite as much as she used to be able to before she began this routine. Even Rhaenyra was beginning to regret it, easily noticing the way that her maids now stared at her longingly, likely having seen and heard her in the throes of self-pleasure more times than they had with her husband and wife involved. 

When Rhaenyra brought up her annoyances with Daemon, he had been quick to point fingers, claiming that it was entirely her fault that Y/n had not been seeking them out as much. They both came to the conclusion that they needed to get her out of this habit as quickly as she had gotten into it. 

“My love,” Rhaenyra smiled sweetly as she entered her chambers, finding her settled in the bathtub with rose petals floating in the water around her. The water rippled around her rounded belly and breasts as they poked out into the warm air. Rhaenyra thought that she had never looked so beautiful in her life, with the exception of their wedding day. “How do you feel? The maester told me you had a bout of sickness after supper.”

The woman opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at her wife as she knelt at her side, one hand dipping in to feel the temperature of the water, “‘M fine, Nyra. I do not think that mutton agrees with our babe.”

The Targaryen woman laughed, “I’m sorry, my love, I know how you enjoy mutton so. I will instruct the cooks to avoid it until the babe arrives then.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n stroked a hand over her belly, “I would give anything to keep her happy.”

“Her?” Rhaenyra asked, settling her hand on the bump as well, “You expect a girl?”

“I do,” Y/n beamed, “I will be happy either way, but I have a feeling. I know how you long for a daughter, as well.”

Rhaenyra flushed, “You are too kind to me my love. I will be happy with our child regardless of gender, so long as they are a part of the one I love the most.”

Y/n giggled, “Do not let our husband hear you speaking like that.”

“He knows his place,” Rhaenyra chuckled, fingers wandering up to brush against the tender flesh of her breast, smirking to herself at the moan that fell from her wife’s lips at the smallest touch.

Rhaenyra turned her head, finding her maids looking bashful in the corner of the room. They had been witness to Y/n’s pleasure before, but never at the hand of one of her spouses. 

“Out,” She commanded, “I will finish my wife’s bath on my own.”

They all hesitated for a moment before nodding, curtsying to both women before rushing out. 

“Nyra,” Y/n scolded, “I was about to begin my “self-care”.”

“I can care for you, my heart.” The silver-haired woman cooed as she lowered her hand below the surface of the water, taking little care for the sleeve of her gown as her fingertips found the slick button between her thighs.

“It was your idea, Rhaenyra.” Her voice sounded firmer than before, and her once sleepy eyes had grown hard and accusing. 

“A stupid one, I must admit,” She sighed, rubbing small circles into her clit, “I miss how insatiable you once were, how you begged for me to touch you, how you begged for our husband’s cock.”

A flash of sadness appeared on her face as sprung to her waterline, “You were tired of me, you do not want me.”

Rhaenyra stopped her movements, “What?” 

A soft sob left her lips, “You asked me to take care of myself. I thought it might have been because you and Daemon were busy, but then I came to your rooms one night and–”

She didn’t need to finish for Rhaenyra to understand. She and Daemon had found it difficult to keep up with their wife’s libido, but once she had begun taking care of herself, they still had their own desires and spent many nights together. Rhaenyra felt stupid for not seeing how this would feel to their wife, let alone now that her emotions were heightened. She had not considered herself unattractive until Rhaenyra asked if she mentioned that self pleasure was beneficial for helping her bodily insecurities, only to find that she and Daemon were continuing to fuck without her on the regular. 

Y/n pushed her hand away, sitting up and pulling her knees as close to her chest as her stomach would allow, “Leave me.”

“My love–”

“Please,” Her voice cracked, “Send my handmaidens in, I want to go to bed.”

“Y/n, please let me–”

“Go!” She shrieked, tears now falling down her cheeks readily as she pushed herself out of the water abruptly, “Get out!” 

The door burst open, her handmaidens appearing in the room with worried expressions at the sound of their lady’s screaming. They rushed forward, helping her step out of the tub and wrapping her in her favourite silk robe. 

Rhaenyra watched as she stumbled away, ignoring the water dripping from her as she crawled onto the bed, the most heart-wrenching sobs leaving her lips. The Crown Princess did not want to leave, longing to go after her and make her understand, but the guilt that began to force itself up her throat was too much to bear. Without another word, she pushed through the doorway and into the corridor, rushing to find Daemon. 

Y/n did not leave her chambers for three days. She had breakfast, tea, and dinner in her rooms with no company except for her handmaidens. She refused to allow Rhaenyra or Daemon in to see her any time that they had come to visit, even when they each tried to assert their rank over her handmaidens. She was now almost seven months into her pregnancy, and she was continuously wondering to herself how she had let herself be talked into another child. She wept day and night, countless apologies leaving her lips to her late children, begging for their forgiveness and cursing Rhaenyra and Daemon for bringing her walls down so much that she had allowed herself to be in the position to potentially lose yet another child. 

On the fourth day, Rhaenrya had decided that enough was enough, and used the secret passageway into her wife’s room. When she found her, she felt her heart clench in her throat, finding her still in nothing but the silk robe that she’d left her in four days earlier, curled in a ball on her favourite sofa and staring blankly out the window. How had she allowed herself to hurt the one person she loved above all else again after vowing to protect her heart with her entire being? 

“My love,” Rhaenyra called out, closing the hidden door behind her. She frowned when she was met with complete silence, “My love, can you hear me?”

“What is it, Your Grace?” 

Rhaenyra cringed, having only heard Y/n speak to her so formally when she was truly angry with her. “The maester told me you have not slept or eaten in two days. It is not good for the child.”

Y/n scoffed, “The babe.”

“It is not good for you, either, my love.” 

Rhaenyra knelt in front of her, hands cupping her cheeks and grimacing at how cold she felt. Rhaenyra had gone to Daemon that night, her pale cheeks flushed red and wet from her tears as she paced for hours, wondering how they would be able to make things right with her–how had she let this happen? How could she make her feel unloved by the two people who loved her more than anything?

“Please look at me,” She whispered, head ducking to meet her hollow gaze. “I’m not sure how I can make you feel how deeply angry I am with myself. I am so, so sorry, my love.”

Y/n sniffled, but did not respond.

“May I explain myself?” Rhaenyra waited for her weak nod before she continued, “I did not mean to make you feel unwanted, by any means. You are sweet, and good, and beautiful, and I could never imagine a world where I would not want you. Daemon and I–we cannot excuse ourselves, but we can explain. We were concerned for you, for how often we were bedding you. The maester told us that we could hurt you, which is why I suggested what I did. I did not mean to imply that we did not want you. In fact, we wanted you so deeply that we turned to each other for the first time in so long because we thought you were more comfortable with taking care of yourself.”

Y/n shook her head, “I only did it because that’s what I thought you wanted.”

“I could never not want you, my beautiful wife.” Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to her clammy cheek.

“I must admit,” Y/n laughed bitterly, “I began to believe after some time that I had become a concubine for you both.”

“I do not think it is custom to love one’s concubine, my sweet.” Rhaenyra chuckled, then turned sombre when she took note of her expression, “My love, else bothers you?”

“I do not want to have another child,” Y/n whispered, “I feel almost as if I am betraying my boys. I will love this child with all of my heart, and nothing makes me more happy than to be tied to you both through blood, but I will not have another.”

Rhaenyra sighed, “I am sorry if you have felt pressured by us.”

“I haven’t,” She shook her head, “But I have done some thinking over the past two days. I have been happy here, and I do want this child, but I’m not sure that I can handle another. This child is a sibling, but to have two, it feels like I am replacing them, and to me they are completely irreplaceable.”

Rhaenyra kissed her head, “You will not have to. I will speak to Daemon, and the maester. We will make sure that this is your last pregnancy.”

“You don’t think that Daemon will be upset with me? He won’t want any more children?”

“If he is, then perhaps we would need to rethink how many people we want in this marriage, don’t you think?”

This made Y/n giggle, and it was like music to Rhaenyra’s ears. She finally leaned into her, wrapping her arms around Rhaenyra’s middle and nuzzling into her neck. Rhaenyra gladly held her, running her fingers through her hair affectionately as she began to notice her breathing grow heavier.

“You must be tired, my sweet,” Rhaenyra turned her head to look at her, “Why don’t you have a bath while I go find you some supper, then you can rest.”

“Will you stay with me while I sleep?” She murmured.

Rhaenyra kissed her lips softly, “Of course I will.”

When Y/n woke up, Rhaenyra was still at her side, her long fingers stroking Y/n’s swollen belly over her thin nightgown. 

“Good morning, my love,” She greeted with a small smile. 

“Evening, you mean,” Y/n had not even noticed that Daemon had occupied the space behind her in the bed until he spoke up, his own hand reaching around to lay on top of Rhaenyra’s on her belly. 

Y/n leaned back into him, sighing at the warmth being emitted from his firm chest, “How long was I sleeping?”

“Almost a day,” He kissed her temple to soothe her as she cried out in surprise, “But you needed it.”

“It’s true,” Rhaenyra affirmed, “You were awake for two days straight. I’ll call your ladies, you must be starving.”

“I am,” Y/n trailed a finger up her arm, “But not for food.”

Rhaenyra shook her head as Daemon chuckled at their wife, “My love, you are very weak right now–”

“Neither of you have touched me in almost two months,” She whined, “Please.”

The two Targaryens shared a glance over her shoulder, Daemon shrugging in response to Rhaenyra’s concerned look.

“Alright,” She finally conceded, “But you must lie there, let us take care of you.”

The woman eagerly nodded, excited whimpers falling from her lips from the slightest drag of Daemon’s lips against her jugular, his fingers pulling the strap of her nightgown down over her shoulder to expose one of her tender breasts. Rhaenyra was quick to pull her into a kiss, tongue forcing itself past her wife’s lips and swallowing every sound she made, her nimble fingers twisting her perky nipple gently. 

Everything moved in a blur for Y/n over the next few moments, somehow finding herself now on her back, knees bent as her nightgown was rucked up to settle over her swollen belly, Rhaenyra wasting little time in dragging her tongue torturously through her folds, which had already been dripping with her sweet nectar from the moment that she had woken up. Her cheeks felt warm, embarrassed at how sensitive and wet she’d been before either of them even touched her and at how quickly she was able to feel herself at her peak. 

At her side, Daemon was needy for her attention. He tucked two fingers under her chin, quickly turning her head to capture her lips in a warm and messy kiss. Her own eager fingers quickly found the laces of his breeches, tugging at them until they were just loose enough to slide her hand inside and take hold of his rapidly hardening member, their sighs of pleasure being lost in one another’s mouths as she slowly pumped him until he was completely hard, whining in protest as he pushed her touch away. 

“Patience, sweet one,” He tsked at her, instead turning his attention to suckling at her breasts, tugging her other strap down to release both of her heaving tits to his mercy. 

The wave crashed over her before she could comprehend it, eyes rolling back as neither of them made any move to slow or stop their ministrations as they each licked and sucked at her most sensitive parts until she was trembling with aftershocks. 

“Do you think she is ready for me?” Daemon peered down at Rhaenyra, who had continued to lick at her clit softly.

She grinned up at him, “More than she’s ever been.”

He chuckled, reaching his hand down to feel her wetness for himself with a wicked glint in his eyes, “Perhaps we should deprive our needy little wife more often if it means she will always be this responsive.”

Rhaenyra frowned, “You are bold to assume that either of us will be able to resist for so long ever again, husband. I’m certain that I can’t.”

“Perhaps I merely need to be reminded, I may not have my wits about me.”

Within seconds, his clothes had been completely removed and was was dragging her by the ankles until her bum was hanging off the edge of the mattress and he was pressed tightly between her legs. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had helped her slide her shift off over her head, leaving her completely bare to her husband and wife.

Her back arched off of the bed as Daemon notched the head of his member against her entrance, easily slipping inside with a drawn out moan, eyes closed as he relished in the feeling of her silky walls throbbing around him. 

“See how he desires you?” Rhaenyra whispered to her, “You make him weak, he belongs to you. We belong to you.”

She nodded, watching in awe as Rhaenyra’s slender neck was engulfed by their husband’s fingers, his meaty fist forcing her to meet his hard kiss as his spare hand slid beneath Y/n’s hip and flipped her onto her side, barely missing a beat as he threw her top leg over his shoulder and sped up his thrusts. 

Rhaenyra grinned into the kiss, reaching up to slide her middle and index fingers into her wife’s mouth, slowly thrusting them in and out until they were dripping with her saliva. Carefully, she moved them down and began circling them around her untouched hole, feeling the snug ring of muscles tighten and release under her touch. The sloppy juices of her release had dripped down and provided an extra lubricant as one of her long fingers dipped inside, stilling for a few moments to allow her to adjust to the intrusion before she pressed the second in as well. Her movements were slow, not wanting to force the tightness of her ass and further than she already was, especially with the force of Daemon’s thrusts into sweet cunt. 

Mere moments passed before her second release began bursting out of her core and splashing against Daemon’s stomach, the warmth of her juices bringing him to his own climax. She allowed him to keep forcing himself into her abused hole before she was pressing her foot flat into his shoulder to push him away. 

“Look at her,” Rhaenyra murmured to him, smirking down at her wife’s trembling body, “Look at how needy she is for us. We belong to her, but she is ours alone.”

Daemons slowly allowed his cock to slide out of her, falling down to poke at her asshole as Rhaenyra pulled her fingers out. The future queen slid from the mattress, disappearing out of Y/n’s sight as Daemon huddled overtop of her, pressing warm kisses across her neck and chest. He pulled back as Rhaenyra reappeared next to her, wiping her hands clean with a wet cloth before she made quick work of wiping the pregnant woman’s sensitive cunt clean as Daemon readjusted his breeches as she moved across the room to sit by the burning fireplace. 

Rhaenyra helped her wife move back up to lay against her pillows, tucking her in beneath the soft sheets. She crawled in next to her, pressing her lips to her forehead and chuckling when Rhaenyra felt her tugging at her skirts.

“I am alright, my heart,” She pushed her hands away, “You should rest. We will call for your supper.”

Y/n nodded, a touch disappointed that she hadn’t been able to taste her wife’s delicious cunt, but her sadness faded as she felt her eyes fluttering shut, lulling her into a deep sleep as she huddled closer to Rhaenyra’s chest.

[aphroditelovesu]

Valyrian Heritage | Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen, Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon

— summary: Being the only legitimate child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon is not an easy task and you have learned the truth the hard way.

❝warnings: is not compatible with canon, Reader is referred to as having classic Valyrian characteristics, mention of violence, insults to the Velaryon brothers, and yandere platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝ 🐉 lady l: I don't know if it was good and I apologize for that. This imagine focuses more on the drama and I would love to write a sequel if anyone wants! Good reading and drink plenty of water. Love you all.

❝word count: 1,877.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's screams could be heard throughout most of the Red Keep.

The princess had gone into labor over two hours ago and everyone was looking forward to the birth of Rhaenyra and Laenor's first child. Even though some had different motives and some were more selfish than others, anxiety could still be felt.

After what seemed like days of excruciating pain, a loud sound of crying was heard inside Rhaenyra's room.

''Shh...'' Rhaenyra whispered to the crying baby in her arms, trying to calm them down. She had no experience with this, however, this was her first child.

But she loved them. Oh, and how she loved them. Rhaenyra never thought she could love someone as much as she loved her child the first moment she held them in her arms.

She knew she would do anything for them.

Laenor entered the room at the exact moment the baby finally stopped crying and was about to fall asleep. Rhaenyra looked at him sternly and her husband was silent.

He approached silently and Rhaenyra handed him the baby.

''They are beautiful.'' Laenor whispered, moved. They looked exactly like their parents, the very definition of a valyrian. A few silver strands, its father's nose, its mother's skin, and beautiful dark purple eyes when they opened their eyes for the first time.

''They are.'' Rhaenyra confirmed, sitting down again. She was very tired and wanted to rest for a while.

''What's their name?'' Laenor murmured, looking fondly at the baby in his arms. So perfect, his child was so perfect.

Rhaenyra thought for a few minutes and then smiled, ''(Y/N) Targaryen.''

Laenor faced his wife and smiled in agreement, ''(Y/N) Velaryon.''

Rhaenyra smiled at her husband. Yes, Velaryon and Targaryen. It didn't really matter as this child was the product of both sides and she knew she would care for and protect them no matter what.

It was with these thoughts and the comfort in knowing that her child was being well looked after by the drooling father who cooed lovingly at the baby, that Rhaenyra finally allowed herself to fall asleep.

Later that day, Rhaenys and Corlys went to visit (Y/N). Laena could not be present, unfortunately, but she had sent a letter congratulating her brother and cousin on the birth of their child. Rhaenys had this letter with her when she entered the room with her husband.

Rhaenyra was holding her baby protectively and Laenor was glued to her side, arms crossed and staring at Alicent suspiciously.

Alicent had also entertained the idea of meeting her grandchild and Rhaenyra didn't seem willing to let her stepmother get her hands on her child.

''Let me see my grandchild!'' Corlys said excitedly and approached the protective mother. Rhaenyra looked at him for a few seconds, sighed and handed the baby to her father-in-law.

''They look like you, Laenor.'' Rhaenys commented after picking up her grandchild. Laenor smiled proudly.

In fact, (Y/N) looked like him even though they were so young. Laenor was sure that when they grow up they will be just like him. A powerful feeling took over Laenor's body. And he smiled even more at that.

Pride. He was completely proud.

Alicent approached Rhaenys, ''Let me see them.'' She said softly but firmly. Rhaenys hesitated a little, but let Alicent take her grandchild.

Rhaenyra was alarmed and Laenor placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

It's okay, Alicent would never dare do something with so many witnesses. Rhaenyra's shoulders relaxed a little but there was a tension present.

Alicent rocked the baby in her arms lovingly, smiling at them. They were beautiful, she thought. A pang of envy rose within the Queen. She wanted (Y/N) to be hers.

She blinked in surprise. That was it? But it was and Alicent knew it. Part of her knew that Rhaenyra wouldn't be a good mother to (Y/N) and she wanted to prevent future disappointments for them.

"They need to sleep." Rhaenyra said suddenly, standing up with her husband's help. Alicent looked at her skeptically and reluctantly handed (Y/N) over to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys watched Alicent carefully and Corlys looked suspicious. The Queen was forced to retreat.

For now.

"I need to go see Aegon." Alicent stated to no one in particular, "But I will visit (Y/N) again with Viserys later."

Rhaenyra's only response was a slight nod, but she wasn't really paying attention.

Under the watchful eyes of the three Velaryon's present, Alicent left the room with hesitation and disgust.

As you grew, everything changed and it wasn't just your growth.

But family intrigues.

You had been the only legitimate child of the marriage of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

Everyone knew that Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey were bastards and sons of Harwin Strong. There was no denying it, not when you were Laenor's legitimate child, not when you looked exactly like him.

Not even Viserys had any arguments for that. And Alicent, Criston and Otto always made sure of reminding Rhaenyra about this.

Jacaerys' birth was a stab in the chest for Rhaenys and Corlys. And a triumph for Alicent.

You were only a year older than Jace, but you loved him deeply. It didn't matter that Jacaerys was different and this difference became even more visible after he grew up.

It didn't matter because you loved him. You loved Jace, you loved Luce, and you loved Joffrey. You loved all of your younger siblings and defended them fervently when their appearance was brought up. You constantly fought with Aegon and Aemond about it.

You got along well with Alicent and Viserys' children, your aunt and uncles. Mainly Helaena. You adored her, so sweet and so kind and she loved you fervently in return. It was very common for you to be together.

One day, you were in your room reading a book that Rhaenyra gave you and Aemond ran into your room. You dropped the book and got up in a hurry.

''What happened?'' Your voice was serious and Aemond blinked and pulled you into a hug, seeking comfort.

''They gave me a pig!''

You frowned, ''W-What?''

''Aegon, Jacaerys and Lucerys!'' Aemond held you tighter and every word that came out of his mouth was full of hatred. ''They said they were going to give me a dragon and they brought me a pig!''

Oh. You squeezed him back, trying to comfort your uncle.

''I'll talk to them.'' You stated and Aemond muttered a thank you under his breath, squeezing you as if his life depended on it.

When you scolded Aegon and your younger brothers, Aemond could be seen smiling creepily in the background.

You loved your entire family, your paternal and maternal grandparents, your parents, your uncles, your aunt, your brothers, all of them. And being a Velaryon and a Targaryen was amazing, but you felt trapped sometimes.

Trapped by your family.

You were often seen as the anchor of your family. What held them all together.

And you always agreed with that. Many of the fights that occurred you had to get involved in to separate both sides and as you grew up, you noticed it even more.

You realized that your family would never truly be reunited. And you found that out the hard way.

It was during the funeral of Laena Velaryon, your late aunt. You didn't spend much time with her but you felt sad. You stayed close to your grandparents and your father the whole time, trying to comfort them for the loss of their daughter and sister. They felt immensely grateful to have you there.

You have finally met your great-uncle, the infamous Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince.

He was everything the stories said. You felt uncomfortable with his strange looks in your direction and clung even tighter to your father who noticed Daemon's looks.

Laenor looked at Daemon suspiciously and pulled you away. Neither you nor your father noticed Daemon's eyes darken.

You lay in your room, trying to fall asleep when you were called to Driftmark's main hall after an accident involving your uncles and brothers. It wasn't until you found out what happened to Aemond that you knew all was lost.

You gasped in horror when you saw Aemond's face. Mutilated and missing an eye.

You approached him, under the burning gazes of those present. Alicent was furious and Viserys did nothing.

Your heart skipped a beat when Alicent stole Viserys' dagger and stormed off to try and gouge out Lucerys's eye in revenge. Your mother got in front and she was cut off.

You watched in horror at the cut and the way the blood dripped onto the floor. Aemond hugged you tighter and said everything was fine for his mother. It had been a fair exchange, he had lost a eye but had gained a dragon.

You knew the eye story wouldn't end there and you had confirmation years later.

You were stroking your mother's hair while she was being stitched up by the maester. You agonized every time the needle penetrated her soft skin and did your best to try and ease her pain.

Rhaenyra appreciated your concern and kissed your cheek after scolding your brothers.

Laenor entered the room and you hugged him, ''My child... I'm glad everything is okay with you'' He whispered against your hair, squeezing you tightly.

''I'm fine, dad. Mom is the one who's hurt.'' You mumbled. Laenor hugged you for a few more minutes and let you go, he turned and looked at Rhaenyra.

''I'm sorry for what happened to you and our children.'' Laenor took a deep breath and took a chair next to her. You stayed silent watching your parents interact.

Rhaenyra shook her head, ''It's not your fault.''

''No, it's not but I can't help but feel guilty. I've been neglecting you and Jace and Luce and Joffrey. And I regret that.''

Rhaenyra reached out and touched his arm, ''It's not your fault.'' She repeated again, with more firmness in her voice.

''I hate that I'm not the husband you needed, the father our children need.'' He whispered, ''I hate the way the gods made me.''

Your heart sank and you went to your father's side, hugging him. He smiled weakly at your affection.

''I don't hate.'' You mumbled.

''Neither do I.'' Your mother stated, ''You are a good and honorable man. That's something rare.'' They smiled and you felt lighter on that tragic day.

''I'm going to change. I will become a better husband and father.'' Your father said and pulled you into his arms, you smiled and hugged him back. Rhaenyra got up from her chair and walked over to you. She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you too.

You stayed for a while hugging your parents, feeling grateful for the peace that dominated your heart for a few minutes.

Because you knew it wouldn't last. Not when the next day a tragedy involved your entire family.

Dragons roared and storms broke out in the tragic night.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Mine (Two - Shot)

Summary: Daemon has always made his feelings about Otto Hightower and his offspring quite clear, but the night of Laena's funeral, he doesn't seek out Rhaenyra but instead sequesters himself in his room. It's there that he finds that perhaps he doesn't hate all of the Hightowers. (AU with another elder Hightower daughter)

A/N: I have a love - hate relationship with Daemon, but I gave it a shot. When I tell you that I refuse to make this any spicier and was already struggling as is 🤣 but I just had to write this down. This has been divided into two parts, cause it was something else.

|| My Masterlist ||

She was the eldest daughter and second child of Otto Hightower, but this meant nothing to the man. She did not receive much attention, her father was far too busy with the web of political intrigue and keeping his youngest and favorite child at his side. 

It was why she did not hold the same level of animosity toward the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen as her Father and younger sister. She had always been intrigued by the prince but the prince despised the entire family of Hightowers, and she was no exception. 

But when he saw her standing beside her family at the funeral of his second wife. In her green dress, he sneered at her just as he always had. Even though she had never shown to be like her father and sister, he only lumped her alongside them.

Which was why she didn’t understand why she thought it would be a good idea to visit Daemon's chambers that evening. Of course, his wife died and he needs consolation, but she didn’t think he would be that glad to see her. 

There were no guards posted at the door, so it gave her a chance to calm her racing heart when she hesitated knocking at his chamber doors. She breathed deeply and knocked, hearing a soft, Come in. 

She stepped into the room before she could change her mind and go back to her own chambers for the night.

Daemon sat in a chair by the fireplace with his legs spread apart.  Loose shirt and pants, it was clear that he was getting ready for bed.

She felt like she had made a mistake, she was defenseless and scared. She tended to be fearful of men normally and yet she had practically walked herself into a dragon’s lair. 

And that dragon was Daemon.

When he saw her standing there on the threshold of his chambers, his eyebrows almost furrowed, and she was already preparing for him to say some rather harsh words because of her presence. 

“Are you lost?” He chuckled, raising one eyebrow. “This isn’t the tower of the Hand.” 

His gaze slid over her green nightgown with its delicate neckline, and down towards her legs. 

“No… actually, I came to see you” she muttered nervously, playing with the sleeves of her nightgown. 

“Me?” He asked in amusement. “And what would you come to see me for?”

"I thought... well I thought that you might need some comfort" she mumbled. 

He chuckled at her words, to him it looked like the Hightower girl did not realize the implications behind what she was saying. Not that he minded it, he might hate her whole family, but Daemon wasn't a blind man to see that she was absolutely beautiful. 

"Come closer, my dear" he said, crooking a finger to have her come closer. "I don't bite.... too hard." 

She gulped nervously and took a few steps closer, but was still too far for him to reach her. 

"Oh surely you can come a little closer, in fact," Daemon opened his legs a tad wider and patted at his lap. "Come sit here, it would make our conversation much easier." 

This only tensed her further and she bit her lip in thought, immediately his eyes turned to her lips despite that not being her intention. 

She knew that there were already several lines that she was crossing that night; showing up to a man's room without a chaperone, being with him alone (at night no less), and other lines of decorum that would have her father absolutely furious. 

But she wanted.... no she needed to be closer to him, even if perhaps every fiber in her being was warning her that this was a bad idea. 

"Would I not be too heavy?" She whispered. 

This amused Daemon immensely, "Do you think me that weak of a man?"

"No! Never!" 

"Then?" He tilted his head and looked at her expectantly. 

She could practically hear the pulsing of her heart in her ears, every step closer to the Rogue Prince had her on edge. But it did not take long for her to stand before him, and despite her standing tall in front of him, with the smirk on his face she knew that Daemon had all the power in that moment. 

He smirked, “Hello there.” 

“Hello” she whispered back. 

“Will you finally sit on my lap as I told you or would you rather I helped you do it?” 

She almost jumped out of her own skin when she felt his hands on her waist and slowly guided her to sit on his lap, feeling the heat and power that he radiated even while seated on a simple chair. 

“Now see, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said with a raspy laugh. 

She let out a shaky breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding until that moment and nodded in agreement. Her own smaller hands were careful as she placed them over his chest and hesitantly ran them over his hardened stomach and shoulders. And if she didn’t know any better, he seemed to almost purr at her tender and soft touch. 

Her heart still beat quickly, but in that moment, all she could focus on was that indescribable look that darkened his purple eyes. It was a gaze that she had never experienced before, even more with the time that she had been kept at Oldtown with the sole company of her septas and maesters. 

No, the gaze of Daemon felt like he acknowledged that she was a woman too. 

Something that she had never been permitted to experience, especially considering that even with his lack of attention and care, Otto Hightower had made sure to sequester the girl away from the attentions of men. Never given the chance to have someone look at her with the reverence that Daemon Targaryen was bestowing upon her, and she was sure that despite her fear, she wanted to hold onto him for as long as he would allow.

But even with that reverent gaze, it did not take away from the fact that sitting on his lap was beginning to feel uncomfortable and she couldn’t help but shift herself where she was seated. 

Daemon took a deep breath to keep himself in check, his eyes closed for a moment, before opening them again, now looking directly into her eyes. 

“If you keep moving like this with little restraint, I might snap. And who knows what a dragon is capable of if provoked?” His voice held an edge, a barely contained lust in his words.

“But I haven't done anything to you,” she said with confusion in her voice but still a warmth settled in her belly. 

“No?”

The hand on her hip went up, his palm tracing over her pudged waist and hip, his thumb teasingly slipping under the edge of her nightgown, caressing the skin there.

“You’ve done enough already,” he laughed. “Just sitting here, all nervous and beautiful, looking at me with those wide, innocent eyes. And then moving on my lap like a little brat.”

“But I can't help it!” she huffed. “It isn’t comfortable to sit on a person’s lap for long, you wouldn't punish me for that, would you?”

“I should punish you for that,” Daemon mused, his free hand still caressing at the hem of her nightgown, his thumb tracing the line up and down the seam, up and down the side. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweet love. Here sitting on my lap, squirming in my grip, while I try to keep my hands off of you.”

She doesn’t know what bravery or stupidity comes over her at that moment, but she kisses his cheek and looks at him with an innocent gaze. “Would that help avoid punishment?”

Daemon’s reaction to the kiss on his cheek was instant: his breath hitched in his throat, his grip on her hip grew tighter, and his trousers suddenly became rather uncomfortable.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took another deep breath to collect himself, before opening them again and seeing that innocent expression upon her face.

“You little brat,” He mumbled through bared teeth and squeezed her hip again with a deep breath, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

He leaned closer so his mouth was next to her ear, a soft, almost imperceptible brush of his soft lips on your earlobe. “Keep looking at me like that and you’ll be in trouble. You don’t even know what trouble looks like, little love.”

Daemon’s breath was warm against her skin, and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up when she shivered at his touch. The hand on her hip started roaming once again, but this time it moved towards her belly, his palm resting upon her stomach.

She giggled softly in his ear, “Daemon, that tickles.”

Only it seemed that her lighthearted giggles made his blood burn hotter.

“Does it?” He said with a hint of mischief in his voice, and his hand on her stomach started to move again, sliding just slightly under the hem of her nightgown, his fingers now on the soft skin of her thigh, gently caressing it.

She giggles harder and tries to pull away, “Daemon! Stop, I'm ticklish!”

Daemon smirked as her squirms grew stronger while she tried to escape his hands, but his grip on her never faltered. He had her caught like prey in his trap.

“Oh? You’re ticklish, are you?” His fingers slowly crept even further up her thigh, now caressing the sensitive skin just underneath her ribs. He kept rubbing over the sensitive spots, his hand roaming over her stomach and sides, up and down. His mouth never left her ear, and the quiet, low sighs and gasps that escaped from him on an occasion were hot against her skin while her own smaller body shivered and writhed in his lap.

“Oh Daemon,” she whimpers softly. “I.... I feel weird.”

“Is this a good weird?” Daemon asked in a low growl, his hand now slowly crawling further up, to the underside of her breast. It was the first time he had touched her like that, but he was going for more.

“I think so, I've never felt like this before,” she sighed softly. 

“Never before?” Daemon repeated, slowly and quietly in thought. His palm stopped caressing her skin, just below her ribs, his fingers splayed over her hip bone. He was curious, he wanted to know if anyone else had touched the Hightower girl before him. He had a suspicion that she was quite untouched and innocent, and it only fueled his arousal.

“I've... I’ve only kissed a boy once, and he had only held my hand” she mumbled. “Nothing more than that.”

“Aww. A sweet little kiss?” Daemon almost chuckled, his tone and words obviously mocking her, as if she were so inexperienced and naive. "And only held your hand once? Who was this boy?"

“I only remember that he was a Lannister, I never saw him again” she shrugged with nonchalance as most visitors didn't come back.

" A Lannister, hmm?" Daemon pondered for a moment, trying to think over the names of different Lannisters at the moment, before eventually deciding it didn’t matter. He returned his focus back to her, on how inexperienced and innocent she was, and on her sitting on his lap, squirming and squirming, trying to get away from his teasing touch.

His fingers continued to glide over her skin, his nails slightly scratching over the softness of her sides, before slowly moving back towards her ribs.

"Have many boys tried to court you?" Daemon asks, his voice now low, deep and smooth, his nose nearly nuzzling her ear.

"Not many, I think. Father would never tell me," she sighed contently. “Or perhaps I was simply too naive of it all.”

Daemon chuckled at that. Of course her father wouldn’t tell her. To him, the girl was likely just a future pawn or tool, just an insurance policy for the Hightowers’ safety despite being his oldest daughter. He continued to caress over the sensitive skin of her stomach and sides, while simultaneously pulling her body even closer against him, pressing her firmly against his chest. He wanted her as close as possible.

His free hand started slowly making its way up her body once more, tracing a path up her side, her ribs, her chest, her neck, her jaw until it finally settled on her chin and then lifting her face up to look at him.

Her breath hitched in her throat and stilled.

“There,” Daemon said quietly as he finally had her bright eyes look at him, with his hand gripping her chin and holding her head in place. The proximity allowed him to fully take in her expression and features. Wide innocent eyes, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the way her chest rose and fell with each shaky breath. 

He slowly licked his lips.

He couldn’t help himself. 

One look at her was enough to drive him crazy. Not just her looks as that had been obvious enough, but that innocence and how inexperienced she was. 

How she was sitting in his lap, trembling under his touch.

His to take. 

His to enjoy fully.

“Daemon,” she whines craving more of his touch.

“Yes, my little love” Daemon hummed, his eyes darkening at the way she pleaded for his touch. His hand on her chin squeezed the slightest bit as she let out a soft whine, her lips all pouty.

He wouldn’t be able to contain himself for much longer.

“Would you kiss me, please?” she pleaded.

The question was almost laughable considering how much he wanted to do that. He was already struggling to hold himself in check. Daemon chuckled softly, his eyes fixed on her lips as she let out another little plea.

“Do you want me to kiss you, little love?”

“Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Daemon answered as his thumb released her chin and gently brushed over her bottom lip, tracing its shape and softness.

He knew he should have been careful, he knew he should’ve held himself back, but he couldn’t. He leaned closer until his mouth was just inches from hers.

He looked into her eyes and the sight only made it worse. Her wide, innocent expression fueled his lust even more.

“You’re so lovely,” he said in almost a whisper, before finally closing the remaining distance between them and gently bringing his lips against hers.

And to her it was everything.

She moaned softly and tugged at his hair.

Daemon groaned against her lips. His hand on her side instantly gripped tighter, while the one on her hip moved to her thigh. He angled his head to kiss her even deeper, even hungrily, taking advantage of her mouth and inexperienced kisses.

His tongue licked over the seam of her lips, demanding entrance and making her open her mouth for him so it could enter. He took his time enjoying the taste and sensations, his tongue caressing the inside of her mouth, before his hand on her thigh started pulling her even further up his lap.

She could only pull at his hair harder and move her hips to feel him closer, making Daemon grunts against her mouth. His hand squeezed the flesh of her thigh tightly, as it pulled her even higher up, almost straddling his lap. She was now firmly pressed against his chest, her hips pushed hard against his, his hand keeping her in place to avoid her falling. 

He took a moment to savor how it felt to have her pressed against him, how good it felt to have her body pushed against his. Without breaking the kiss, the hand on her thigh slowly traveled up, under the hem of her nightgown, his fingers brushed against her soft, bare thigh.

She put her hand over his and whispered, “Please Daemon, I need you.”

Daemon broke the kiss to look at her, his breath heavy and ragged. His lips were red and swollen from the kiss, and fire was evident in his eyes as he stared at her.

“Need me?” he whispered in return. His fingers kept gliding over the sensitive skin on her inner thigh. “What do you need me to do, sweet love?”

He was growing impatient, the thin control he was still holding onto was slowly snapping. He had so many things he wanted to do to her, so many ways he wanted to take her and claim her as his own. His hand on your thigh started to slide even further up your dress.

She knew her father would be furious, but all she could say to Daemon was, “Make me yours, please!”

“Make you mine?” Daemon repeated slowly, his eyes fixed on her own tear filled eyes.

He pushed her firmly up against his chest, his hand still roaming under the hem of her nightgown, and the fingers of the other running across her stomach. His lips were close to her ear, warm breath caressing her neck.

“Is that a question or a request, little love?”

“Whichever helps keep you close to me,” she practically spat out impatiently. 

The low, almost growl-like sound that escaped his throat sent a shudder down her spine. The hand under her dress suddenly squeezed the flesh of her thigh with a bruising grip.

He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

“Are you mine, sweet thing?” He asked with a commanding tone and another squeeze to her thigh.

“Yours, only yours” she said without thinking about the repercussions.

“Good girl,” Daemon praised in a low murmur, his lips brushing over her neck as he spoke, slowly inching closer to the sensitive spots. While his mouth was still near her ear, his hand under her dress fully cupped her breast.

That indescribably warmth settled once more and for the rest of that eventful night as she let Daemon whisper one word in her ear.

“Mine.”

[writtingforfun]

Prey or Prayer?

OC! Marisa Hastwyck x Daemon Targaryen

Summary: Lady Marisa Hastwyck, of House Hastwyck of the Reach. First born daughter of Lord Murrel Hastwyck and Lady Lydia Hightower, second born child of the couple. Married to Prince Daemon Targaryen after the untimely death of Lady Laena Velaryon. Married at the young age of fourteen and a mother at fifteen. Her relationship with her step-daughters was strained and very one-sided.  A dutiful wife and mother, caring and loving person to all. A devout of the Faith of the Seven, her only comfort on the days the bed was left cold, even if her husband laid next to her. The very persistent shadow of the Princess Rhaenyra hunted both their bedchambers and their own hearts and souls.

Chapter 1

None so dutiful.

Those are the words of House Hastwyck. And they are words they live by. 

Like a Stark keeps his word, like a Velaryon sails the ocean, a Hastwyck is bound by duty and honor.

Lady Marisa Hastwyck was the perfect picture of the Maiden; devout, chaste and kind. Her entire life she had been prepared for marriage - her mother had made sure of that. Lady Lydia Hightower was unpleasant and highly strict about her children's upbringing, perhaps not in the best way. It was the sort of ambition that ran through Hightower blood, irrational and indifferent to anyone else’s feelings.

When Marisa was just ten, she was already made to spend two hours of the day praying to the Seven, by the time she turned twelve, she knew how to sew and embroider, by thirteen she was ready to be sold away as soon as someone wanted her. 

Which is why she had been sent to the Red Keep to study under the septas of the capital. Four moons had passed since she arrived there with her father and was presented to the King. But her father had only stayed for three weeks, and she was soon left alone with only her long time handmaid, Helia. 

Marisa was very intelligent, despite her mother’s disregard towards intellectual knowledge. She and her brother had always shared a passion for books and history, something that she thought would be rather important to maintain a conversation. Turns out her mother knew that the people of court were incredibly vain. The one time she brought up history, she received so many looks like she had lost her mind. 

Life at court wasn’t for her, and Marisa was certain of it. But how could she disappoint her parents and beg them to leave after all the weight they put on her shoulders? Her brother had been married just the year before, at sixteen, because he was found in bed with a middle class lady. The wedding had been rushed and no one even mentioned it. Now, their honor laid fully on her, since her little sister was only ten. 

Everyday, as part of her routine, she spent the nights in the library. She could slip in, unnoticed by anyone, and read as much as she wanted. And the library in the Red Keep was without a doubt the most beautiful one. History, stories, languages… Anything anyone could ever want.

This night was not any different. She picked up her book, one of the History of House Targaryen, and walked towards her usual table, somewhat secluded from the rest of the library, a book in one hand and a candle in the other.

As she made her way to the table, she was startled by the light in her seat. She was always so distracted and so sure no one would be there - after all, no one had sat there in over three moons. It was still very dark, despite the light each of them had, but she could see the outline of his body. Their eyes met and her breath caught in her throat. It was Daemon Targaryen.

“Your Grace,” Marisa quickly said, bowing at him.

He simply looked her up and down.

“My apologies, I did not know you’d be here”

His gaze fell on the book she had in her hand, “Interested in history?”

She looked down at the book and then at him, blinking rapidly, “Yes, I-” she stammered a bit and then took a breath. It was only Daemon Targaryen. “I simply believe that everyone should know the history of our kings”

Daemon chuckled at that. Someone who was not insipid, he thought. “Should you not me in your chambers, Lady…?”

“Marisa. Lady Marisa Hastwyck. I came only to fetch a book. I enjoy the library during the night, it is very quiet.”

“Uhm,” he hummed, his eyes returning to the book.

At the awkwards interaction, Marisa whispered “your grace” and excused herself, taking the book with her to her chambers. A shill ran up her spine as she remembered the indifference she saw in the Prince’s eyes. But then pity took its place. Marisa knew his reputation, but he had lost his wife and been left with two young girls. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing someone she loved and vowed to be with for the rest of her life.

That was the very first interaction she had with the Prince, but certainly not the last.

***

The King held a five day feast for his older daughter, the heir to the throne, to celebrate her name day. The only good thing about this was that her parents were to attend.

“Quickly Helia, my parents must be arriving!”, she urged her handmaid to help her with her hair.

“Calm yourself,”

“I am calm. I just,” tears formed in her eyes, “I just miss them so much. Perhaps they’ll allow me to return home!”

Her bright smile of hope and high dreams of fantasy was only that - a fantasy. Helia looked at her with pity, for she knew that the girl’s fate - the same girl she helped raise - was to be nothing more than a broodmare. And it made her bones freeze.

Marisa stood waiting for her family with a bright smile, and as soon as saw her family’s sigil she could barely hold herself in place. How she missed seeing her brother and sister! It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Until her mother’s rigid face looked at hers, the weight suddenly fell back on top of her. In all these moons, her mother had only written to her to ask if she had caught the eye of any men. Despite the sadness that was now filling her, Marisa decided to put it aside and hug her brother and father. All the words of kindness and happiness that parents should hold for their children were lost in her mother’s stone cold heart. 

“Stand up straight!” Lady Lydia spat at her daughter who quickly lost the small smile she held.

“Ignore her,” her brother whispered in her ear, “she has been nasty since-” he laughed “since ever”

Marisa giggled at that, holding her brother’s arm. “How come your wife didn’t join you?”

“Mother didn’t think she should”

“Isn’t it more disgraceful for you to come to the capital without your wife than to show she is a commoner?”

“It should be, but I was happy she wouldn’t be subjected to hours in a carriage with mother”

Loud horns sounded and Marisa jumped frightened, holding her brother tighter. The King and Queen approached the family. They all quickly bowed to them.

“Murrel! Welcome to my court!” the King greeted his old friend.

“Your Grace, what a pleasure to return.” he turned to the Queen “My Queen, a pleasure to see you again” 

“Welcome back Lord Murrel, and your family”

“Come, let us talk while your daughter talks with her mother and brother.”

As they leave, she notices the queen’s sad gaze on her. A small smile graces her lips as she walks towards them. “Lady Lydia, welcome to court. It has been a while.”

“Your grace,” she bows again, “thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course. You are friends of the crown, therefore, always welcome. Lady Marisa is a delight to have in court”

“Thank you, your grace.” 

The rest of the morning was spent with her mother continuously asking questions and giving her a hard time. Even poor Helia had to listen as her Lady scolded her for not encouraging Marisa to be in court more often than hiding in her chambers or with septas. “I wonder where your father is,” she kept repeating. As Marisa looked at her family, she realized how alone she had been back home, and how alone she was now. 

Upon her father’s return, he and her mother locked themselves in their chambers, leaving their two older children outside to wander as they pleased.

“Show me everything,” Tommen pleaded as they roamed the Keep. They started in the library, moved to the Tapestries and the Godswood, to lastly stand looking at the training grounds - Tommen’s favorite place.

“What do you think? Is it everything you expected?”

His eyes shined looking at the swords and armors, “more. So much more that I won’t even allow myself to wonder what mother and father are talking about”

“I would like to know,” she pouted, unsure of what it could be.

His smile vanished and he kept his eyes low, “Mar…”

“I would!” She repeats, “I have behaved well.”

“Of course you have, you always do. But mother sent you here with one goal in mind.”

“To find a husband for me.”

He nodded, and upon seeing how sad she was, he took her hand and told her to watch as they trained. Tommem explained every move as if she had interesse, as long as she forgot her fate. She hated violence, but her brother’s effort put a smile on her face.

Men cheering made them both look down to see someone walk in. 

“Who is that?” Tommen asked.

The man looked up and then took his sword.

“That’s Prince Daemon Targaryen”

Let me know if you liked it, and if you want to be added to the taglist! The first chapter is different than the rest will be, it's just a little starting point. I wanted you to understand the dynamics between the Hastwyck family.

Taglist:

@marihoneywk @toxicberrie @snowtargaryen @bellstwd @pet1t3 @watercolorskyy @hypocritic-trash-baby @marvelescvpe @jasenialovesjinx @msmorningstaarr @angeliod @dornishannie @ewwwitsel @billyloomiswife827289301

[fairysluna]

INVISIBLE STRING | Chapter 5: it's nice to have a friend.

New Girl!AU — A disastrous break up led you to them; three guys living in a huge apartment and in need of a new roommate who helped with the way too expensive rent.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY — Your best friend finally visits your new home, but in a terrible moment. As she takes all the attention, you find yourself locked in your room with an unexpected company. New feelings and confusions might appear.

TAGS — alcohol consumption, baela makes her first appearance, mentions of virginity loss, awkwardness between aegon and reader bc they're dumb af, use of y/n. If something is missing, let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — PLEASE READ THIS!! Just to clarify, Baela and Rhaena are Velaryon, just Laena's daughters not Daemon's, Jace and Luke are Strong, and Aegon, Aemond, Daeron, Helaena and Rhaenyra are Targaryens; this means only the Targs and Strongs are related. Thank you for reading!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 4.6k

PREV CHAPTER ㅤ| ㅤNEXT CHAPTER

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Lucerys’ big, blue eyes were staring at you as you read through his latest English test trying to see and correct the things in which he had failed. Jacaerys had asked you to help him with his studies after their mother threatened to ground him if he came home with another bad grade. In return for your work, he would do the dishes for you for an entire month; and you couldn't say no to that.

“Alright, a C+ is not terrible, but it can be better if you really put effort into studying,” you advised him. “You're a smart kid, you can definitely get an A+.”

“It’s so hard for me, there's too many concepts. I don't even know what a funnel introduction is,” he murmured, bumped out.

“It's fine, Luke, I'll help you study for your next test and you'll get at least a B+, I promise,” you said, smiling softly at him.

For a moment he just stared at you, being completely silent as he placed his chin on his hand while leaning on the table. You lifted your eyebrow and your smile slowly started to disappear.

Oh, gods, not again.

“You have a beautiful smile, you know?” he suddenly said, taking you by surprise and making you remember his little crush towards you.

“You need to stop trying to flirt with me, Luke,” you warned him. “I'm too old for you.”

“It was just a compliment,” he shrugged.

“Luke…” you said his name with a scolding tone.

“It is!” he assured you.

“Well, then thank you. That's very sweet of you.”

The main door opened just when you finished talking, Aegon was soon walking inside the loft with his hands holding at least five bags, each filled with the groceries for the month. You excused yourself before standing up and going to help him.

Things, surprisingly, were not awkward at all anymore. You were grateful for that, knowing that all your business with Aegon was now forgotten since what happened a few days ago. You both agreed, however, that you would not say anything to the rest of the guys, just so they wouldn't get the wrong impression. You were pleased, though, because now your relationship with Aegon was better, and you knew he trusted you a tiny bit more now. You were happy about it, too.

“Want some help with that?” you asked as you tried to grab some of the bags.

Aegon immediately shook his head, telling you it was okay as he moved the bags away from your hands, even when he seemed to be struggling a bit.

“Don’t worry about it,” he breathlessly said. “There's a sad, hot girl looking for you out there, you should probably go and see what's that about.” He walked past you and left you standing right in the middle of the hall.

You watched him enter the kitchen and leave the bags on the floor before he went to the fridge and drank orange juice straight out of the bottle. You sighed before you curiously peaked to the entrance only to find your best friend standing there with her backpack hanging from her shoulder. Her eyes were red — it seemed as if she was crying the whole way there, her lower lip was quivering as she held back her sobs.

“Baela?” you asked as you walked towards her, wrapping your arms around her as she laid her head on your shoulder, weeping against your shirt. “Hey, babe, what's wrong? What happened?”

“Garett and I fought today,” she sobbed, “It was bad, I took my thing and I left.”

Your hands went to her hair, your fingertips soothingly caressing her head as you comforted her. “It’s okay,” you cooed, grabbing her face and wiping her tears away with your thumbs. “Let's go talk in my room, alright? Come on.”

Baela obediently nodded as you guided her through the loft with your hand on her lower back. Aegon gave you a confused look and you just shrugged as a response. He followed you with his eyes until you disappeared around the corner and were out of his sight.

“How did you know the address?” you questioned, curiously.

“You sent it to me when you came for the first time just in case they would kidnap you or murder you,” she explained as she sniffed.

“Oh, right…” you muttered.

“It's a really nice apartment, you were lucky to find it.”

“I know, and it's quite cheap too.”

“I can't believe there's three men living here-”

All of the sudden, Jace walked out of his room; his sleepy face and swollen eyes would be proof enough to know that he had just woken up. However, what actually caught your attention was the way his body froze when he laid eyes on Baela, and also the way that she stiffened up when she saw him standing in front of her. His eyes widened as his lips slightly parted in what seemed to be a silent gasp.

“Baela…” he murmured. Suddenly you felt invisible.

“Hi,” she said in a sigh. You frowned, confused.

Standing there between them, you found yourself being taken aback by their reaction, about the way they looked at each other as if their breaths were caught up in their throats. You glanced at Baela, then at Jace, trying to find some explanation to this awkward situation, but you found nothing more than sparkling eyes in them.

“What- Did I miss something?” you asked, interrupting the moment and feeling Baela's stare falling on you.

“No,” Jace quickly replied. You could almost see him blushing. “Nothing happened.”

“Weren't we going to your room?” Baela turned to tell you, and you nodded. “Alright, let's go then.”

You resumed your path towards your room, and as soon as you crossed the door, Baela closed it behind her back. Suddenly, all traces of sadness were now replaced by something new; nervousness, perhaps. You sat on your bed staring at your friend who was now looking at you with widened eyes. You were beyond confused, filled with questions and doubts that needed to be answered before your mind would explode.

“Listen,” she started.

“I think there is a big elephant in the room right now.”

“There's a lot to unpack.”

“I can tell,” you replied. “You know Jace, don't you?”

“I do,” she nodded. “I actually know him very well. Very well.”

You stopped for a second. “How well?”

“Remember my time in Dragonstone as a camp counselor?”

Oh Gods.

“Yes…” you muttered, unsure of whether you wanted to hear the rest of the answer or not.

“Remember what happened during that summer?” she questioned, surprisingly shy.

“I do.”

“Well, it was Jacaerys,” she confessed.

Your eyes widened as you heard her saying it and confirmed it as if it wasn't breaking news, then your mouth dropped. A gasp escaped from your lips as you stood up from the bed and walked towards her.

“Shut up!” you said out of surprise. “It was Jace? That Jace?”

There was a moment of silence before Baela nodded and said, “uh… yes.”

“What?!” you yelled.

“Babe, keep it quiet, please,” she whispered.

“I thought Jace was a virgin,” you confessed, talking in loud whispers, still in shock.

“I can assure you that he's not.”

You covered your mouth as you saw her getting flustered by the situation. The whole thing with her boyfriend, and whatever had happened between them two, had been quickly forgotten by you two, because now you were trying to make sense of how small the world really was.

“I can't believe this!” you exclaimed.

“Well, imagine my situation,” Baela said, scandalized. “I just found out that, out of the billions of people in the world, my best friend is living with the guy that took my virginity during summer camp!”

“It's kinda romantic, though,” you confessed. Baela noticed the dreamy look on your eyes as you spoke; she was already used to it. “Maybe it's destiny.”

“You're insane,” she chuckled.

“Just imagine, Baela! What are the odds?”

“I'm dating Garett!”

“You were crying because of him a few minutes ago!” you reminded her. “What did that douche do anyway?”

Baela took a deep breath, rolling her eyes as she remembered everything. You knew a part of her was slightly embarrassed to tell you, only because she knew you would say ‘I told you so’. She was too stubborn to admit she had been wrong about him all this time.

“He got jealous because he went through my phone and found a picture I took with a friend from work,” she explained.

“He went through your phone?” you repeated, widening your eyes. “Gods, Baela, what are you waiting to break up with him?”

“I don't know!” she replied in despair. “Maybe I love him too much.”

“Whatever you two have going on, I can assure you that it's not love. You deserve better than him, and you know it.”

“I will break up with him… some day,” she promised, doubting. “But now, I need a place to stay tonight because I can't go back to my apartment if he's there. Can you help me with that?”

“Of course,” you immediately replied, “you can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” she sighed.

“Though he should be the one looking for shelter,” you couldn't help but to speak up. “It's your apartment.”

“I know, but I'm doing what I can, alright? I feel like there's a lot of shit going on right now. Can't we just drink our weight in booze?”

“I- I don't know, babe,” you slowly said, “I have a bunch of papers to grade and next class we'll revise them and-”

“Hey, it's okay,” she shrugged, “Maybe one of those guys will make me some company.”

A soft knock was heard and soon Aegon opened the door of your room. He was looking tired and uninterested as usual. Baela crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at him up and down. Aegon didn't even notice such a gesture, because all his attention was on you.

“I brought pizza from the supermarket,” he informed you. “They’re getting out of the oven, so come and have dinner. You can also come, if you want,” he spoke to Baela, finally glancing at her.

“We'll be there in a minute,” you replied.

Aegon left as quickly as he arrived, and your attention returned to your friend, who was arching one of her eyebrows.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing…” she shrugged, but her tone made you a bit suspicious. “Shall we go now? Crying makes me hungry.”

“Alright, let's go… I'll introduce you to Aemond.”

She grabbed your hand and you guided her through the hall until you were back in the dining room. Lucerys looked up from his plate and his mouth fell as he saw Baela walking confidently towards the table. One single glance at him and you sighed relieved to know that his crush towards you was now replaced by his crush towards Baela.

Aemond —who was wearing a kitchen apron and had his long silver hair in a bun— also appeared with two pizzas in his hands, being followed by Jacaerys who carried one. As they put them on the table, you cleared your throat trying to make them acknowledge your presence in the room.

They both stood still as they saw her.

“Aemond, Luke,” you started, “this is my best friend Baela. She'll be staying with us tonight if that is not an issue.”

“Of course not.” Aemond stepped in, removing the oven mitts from his right hand and stretching it to reach hers. “I'm Aemond Targaryen,” he introduced himself with a soft smile as he brought her hand towards his lips and left a kiss there.

Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

“How chivalrous,” Baela commented, pleased with that small interaction.

“Shall we take a seat now?” you proposed, going to your usual spot.

“Where do I sit?” Baela asked.

“Wherever your ass fits, but not in my chair,” Aegon suddenly said, appearing out of nowhere and taking his seat in the spot right next to you.

You gave him a bad look as he sat down.

“You can sit beside Aemond.” You pointed at the empty chair right next to him. Baela did what you said and smiled at him politely.

A quick glance at Jacaerys and you noticed how his jaw slightly clenched and how his eyes would, occasionally, look at them. You narrowed your eyes, noticing there was something going on there probably related to what you had just found out.

“Well, can we start eating now?” Aegon asked. “I'm fucking starving.”

Without waiting for an answer, he took a slice of the pizza and opened his mouth to eat almost half of it in a single bite. Aemond looked at him as if he was scolding him for his terrible manners, but you could only giggle at that.

“Do you guys happen to have beer?” she curiously wondered, staring at Aemond. “I'm in need of some.”

“There's a couple in the fridge, and-”

“No, no. Those are mine, I bought them,” Aegon interrupted.

His lips were covered by stains of tomato sauce, and you gave him a napkin so he would clean himself. He quickly took it and cleaned his mouth.

“Aegon, she's a guest,” Aemond said.

“And?”

“And you need to be polite.”

“I'm sharing my pizza with all of you, I think I'm being polite enough,” he argued as he pointed at the three pizzas on the table.

“I can go and buy some beer,” Jacaerys suddenly offered, “uh… there's a store around the corner, I can grab some beers for you.”

“That's so thoughtful, Jace,” Baela thanked him.

“You guys need to be careful,” you warned them.

“Why?” Jace questioned.

“It's just that your brother is here, and he is a minor-”

“I’m sixteen,” he quickly replied.

“Which means you have to wait two more years to legally drink,” you reminded him.

“Listen, it's my free night, and I don't want to listen to music or smell a beer tonight,” Aegon groaned, interrupting the conversation.

“No one is inviting you to join, Aegon,” Jace murmured.

You gave him a bad look. “Don't be mean.”

Of course no one noticed, but Aegon looked down at his lap just so he would hide the faint rose blush that appeared on his cheeks.

“Y/n will be busy tonight, so maybe you guys can give me some company,” she proposed to Aemond and Jacaerys, who immediately nodded.

“Can I be there too?” Luke asked.

“As long as you stay away from the alcohol,” Baela told him.

“Fine,” he sighed.

“Then you can join us,” she cheerfully said.

An hour was all they needed to create their own personal little pub. You were in your room, the door closed and your eyes feeling tired from reading so much - especially when you had to almost guess what the poorly written words were. The weariness was starting to show as you would continuously jawn and rub your eyes, trying to stay focused on your task.

You saw the clock. 11pm. As you listened to the faded music coming from the living room, you missed the days when you were able to stay awake until sunrise. Perhaps you were getting old.

Or maybe you just needed coffee.

The pen in your hand dropped as you stood up, stretching your limbs and sighing while you put on your comfy slippers. You left your room and rushed into the kitchen, finding Jace staring at Aemond and Baela sitting on the couch. He looked dissociated, as if his mind was giving him a thousand thoughts in a second, and even when you saw him distracted, you asked him:

“Where are the coffee pods?”

Jacaerys’ eyes wouldn't even dare to leave Baela. You would notice how he was nervously tapping the kitchen counter and biting his lip. It was quite obvious that he didn't even hear a word of what you've just said.

“How long have you known her?” He suddenly asked.

“Who? Baela?” you spoke as you looked into the drawers.

“Yes,” he said as he finally turned around to look at you.

“She's been my best friend since sixth grade, why- Oh, here they are,” you mumbled once you found what you were looking for.

You grabbed the coffee pod and put it in the coffee machine, waiting next to it for the cup to be filled.

“So you know,” he assumed. “Of course you do, she's your best friend.”

“What do I know?”

“That we- you know…” he shyly said. “Summer Camp, Dragonstone… uh, sex.”

“Well, she just told me, actually…” you confessed. “I mean, I knew how she lost it, but she never told me the name of the guy, so I didn't know you two had met before. Also, you've never mentioned anything about that camp before, so...”

“Gods, she looks even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said with a shy smile, looking at Baela and then back at you. “Shit, she's here and my hair looks hideous, I don't know why I cut my curls off, I feel like Samson.”

“You look fine, Jace.”

“Yeah, you say that to Aegon everyday, how can I believe you?”

You were about to open your mouth and say that you actually meant it each time you would say that to Aegon, but, somehow, admitting that information made you feel embarrassed. You just decided to change the subject before the silence turned into an awkward one.

“Listen, you do you, I'll be in my room-”

“Wait, no,” he interrupted you. “You need to stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't- How am I supposed to get close to Baela if you're gone?” He asked you, widening his eyes with panic.

“The same way you did when you first met her, isn't it easy?”

“You have to understand,” he said, looking deadly serious. “17 year old me, is not the same person as 22 year old me. I've grown weak.”

“Find that inner 17 year old you,” you shrugged, as you started to slowly walk away. “Best of luck, my friend.”

You walked out of the kitchen with the cup of hot coffee in your hand. As you passed by the living room, you gave a threatening look to Luke who was too close to the beers in the center table. As a response, he lifted his hands in a gesture of innocence, and looked at you with those blue, puppy eyes. You sighed, resuming your way towards your room and humming the song that was playing back in the living room.

Once you returned, it was a complete surprise to see Aegon laying on your bed with his computer on his lap and a bowl of chips on his side. He was shoeless, in his pajamas, looking so comfortable that you even thought for a small second that you accidentally entered his room instead of yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, as you walked towards your desk and left the coffee cup there.

“I'm watching a movie and they aren't letting me listen because their music is too loud,” he explained.

“Why don't you use subtitles?”

He scoffed, “I'm watching a movie, not reading a fucking book.”

“Aegon, you need to stop appearing in my room,” you mumbled. He paused his movie, sitting up on the bed. “Last time was a disaster.”

“I won't be a bother to you, I swear it. I'll be quiet and let you do your thing,” he told you, looking at you with his puppy, lilac eyes. You couldn't say no.

“Fine,” you mumbled, sitting in your chair before you resumed your work. “Keep the volume down too, please.”

“Alright,” he said, and each started to focus on your own thing.

You gave him one last look before you turned around and grabbed your pen. The music was muffled thanks to the thickness of the walls, and all you could hear was the soft voices of the actors coming out of Aegon's computer. It was quite relaxing, there was no awkward silence or anything as such. It felt comfortable and nice.

His presence felt nice.

Suddenly, you heard him laughing out loud, and it was contagious enough to make you smile, distracting you from your work. You turned around only to see him covering his face with one of your pillows, somehow you thought it was cute.

“What are you watching?” you asked as you stood up and sat on your bed next to him.

“Pineapple Express,” he said between giggles, still laughing at one of the scenes.

“Can I watch too?”

“I thought you were busy working,” he replied, looking up at you.

You sighed, “yeah, you’re right.”

Aegon looked at you for a few seconds before pausing the movie and sitting up.

“You look stressed,” he pointed out. “Want some help with whatever you're doing?”

“Would you help me?” you asked, incredulously.

“Yeah, why not? I wanted to be a teacher when I was little,” he confessed, “until I realized I was supposed to go to university to do it.”

“You haven't gone to university?”

“I have, actually,” he nodded as he spoke. “My father forced me to go. I never finished it though, I dropped out.”

“What program?”

“Business administration,”

“Was it fun?”

“The most boring shit ever,” he replied, and you chuckled.

He looked at you as you laughed, and a small —almost nonexistent— smile appeared on his face. It was an involuntary gesture.

“Why did he force you to study something you didn't want?” you curiously asked.

You knew that perhaps you were overstepping a line, but it was the first time he ever said something about him to you, and you were craving to know more. You just couldn't help it.

“Alright, what is this? A fucking interview?”

“Oh, come on!” you insisted. “I've seen you naked already, remember? I know more of you than Aem and Jace.”

“Bold of you to assume they haven't seen me naked yet,” he chuckled. “Will you want help with those hieroglyphics or not?”

“Don't be mean,” you scolded him. “They are just learning how to properly write.”

“Which grade is it?”

“Third.”

“Amateurs…” he mumbled.

“Stop it, they're kids,” you giggled.

“No excuse.”

“Alright, I'm gonna keep going before it gets too late,” you said as you stood up.

Aegon, out of impulse, stretched his hand to grab yours, stopping you from moving away. You turned around, failing to hide your surprise. He seemed unfazed by his own action on the outside, but on the inside he was panicking and desperately wondering why he did that.

“I can help you if you want,” he offered again.

You had to take a second to process it and answer him.

“It's- it's fine,” you shrugged. “You keep watching your movie, don't worry.”

He pressed his lips; an awkward smile.

“Alright,” he said, and let go of your hand.

“Thank you, though.” As you pronounced, Aegon looked back at the screen, almost as if he was suddenly ashamed of looking at you.

You tried to say something, but you just pressed your lips together, sealing them so they wouldn't utter a word. You turned around, and sat back on your chair. For a second you just stayed there, staring at the papers scattered around the desk, and thinking about that sudden gesture that was so odd coming from him.

You couldn't help but to ask yourself whether it was a good idea to have rejected his help, thinking that maybe this would push him away once again.

You were overthinking everything, as usual.

As you turned around, you noticed that Aegon was already with his eyes on you. Nervously, you cleared your throat.

“What?” He asked.

“Uh, what?” you repeated.

“What's wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You've been staring at your desk without moving for like a minute,” he explained. “Are you suffering a stroke or what?”

“No, I just- uh…”

“What?” he interrupted you.

“You're not mad at me, right?” The suddenness of the question made Aegon chuckle and think it was a joke, but after seeing your serious expression he realized you weren't actually kidding.

“Why would I- Listen, if I didn't get mad at you for seeing me naked, why would I get angry because of this?”

“Actually, you did get mad at me for it,” you murmured.

“Well, I'm not mad at you now, okay? Now chill out.”

“Alright, I'm so-”

“Don't apologize,” he stopped you before you could even finish. Then, he softly chuckled. “Why do you act like that?”

“Like what?”

“Weird.”

“To be honest, the first month here I thought you hated me,” you admit, “sometimes I still do, actually.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I wouldn't be your friend if I hated you, would I?”

“I'm your friend?” You repeated, widening your eyes with emotion.

Aegon looked at you weirded out, “of course you are, you dumbass. I saw you naked, we live together; I think I had no choice, actually.”

You smiled.

“Well, it's nice being your friend.”

“It is,” he agreed.

Baela suddenly opened the door in a scandalous way. You jumped in your seat, taking all your attention towards her; she wasn't drunk, but she was certainly a bit tipsy. Aegon immediately closed his computer and grabbed his now empty bowl of chips, standing up from your bed.

“Guess the party's over, so I'll go to my room now,” he announced. Some tiny part of you didn't want him to go just yet. You liked having his company. “Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Aegon,” you sighed.

“Goodnight, Bella.”

“It's Baela,” she corrected him.

“Yeah, whatever.”

He left the room in a hurry as Baela rolled her eyes. Soon, she went to her backpack and took an oversized shirt she used as pajamas, all while staring at you with a subtle smirk on her face.

“What?” you asked.

“You need to tell me what's going on between you and him.” She removed her clothes and put on the shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“Don't play dumb,” she murmured as she went to the bed and laid beneath the covers. “Girl, you have bewitched the guy!”

“What? That's- that's nonsense.”

“Look at the floor, there's a path of his drool all the way from your bed to the door.”

“Baela, he's not- he doesn't do relationships.”

“Oh, but he would definitely do you, you know?” She said imitating your tone.

“Alright…” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“You need to shoot your shot there, he's hot.” You felt the heat running to your cheeks, and of course she immediately noticed it. You hated that she knew you too well. “Oh my! You're blushing!”

“Baela, that's enough.”

“I can definitely sense a vibe there.”

“There's nothing vibing here.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Just go to sleep, okay?” you groaned, turning towards the desk.

“Goodnight, love,” she said. You could hear her smirk on her voice.

“Goodnight,” you simply said, sighing tiredly.

The thought of Aegon being into you was too far-fetched to be truthful. He had just started to see you as a friend, and even when he saw you naked he didn't try to make a move or make comments about it that would give you sogns of his attraction towards you. In fact, he was rather indifferent about it. On the other hand, even when a part of you thought of Aegon as someone handsome, he wasn't your type at all; too immature, perhaps, it would never work between you two.

You shook your head, weirded out with the mere idea of being thinking about it. At the end of the day, Aegon was just another of your friends… right?

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

INVISIBLE STRING TAG LIST — @aemondssiut @tillyt04 @doublesparrows @afro-hispwriter @chrisevansslutttt2 @fan-goddess @trshngyn @hiatuswhore @heavenly1927 @deltamoon666 @sahvlren @kravitzwhore @watercolorskyy @n4tforlife @lovevellichor @f4ll-for-you @namelesslosers @jvpit3rs @marytargaryen @geminidas @aphroditeisamilf @dixie-elocin @dragonslutblog

(if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, send me an ask or dm me.🤍)

follow @by-fairysluna to receive my fic updates!

[lovedreamer11]

What kind of love affair are we talking about between Daemon and Nettles?

This man has a type. Think about the main women in Daemon's life. Hot in her youth Mysaria from Lys, Valyrian hot beauty Laena, Realm's Delight - Rhaenyra. Thin, dark-haired with crooked teeth and a scar on her nose, foul-mouthed Nettles, who grew up on the streets, did not know how to wash herself properly and how to use a comb, is somehow very different from the women listed above.

And besides, Daemon is GRRM's favorite Targaryen. He strives to give his favorite character the best. Daemon got an epic death, he was a legend, his children lived, his sons and grandsons were kings. GRRM also gave Daemon the most beautiful women. I would believe in a romance between Daemon and Nettles if Nettles was described as some kind of unrealistically beautiful demigoddess. I feel like if GRRM wanted to give Daemon a young lover, he would have created someone like Shiera Seastar rather than Nettles.

And why does young Nettles need a fifty-year-old married man who has daughters just a couple of years younger than Nettles herself?

I'm not sure that Daemon and Nettles were in a romantic relationship and that what was written in the chronicles was true. People often tried to describe Rhaenyra as worse than she actually was. Rhaenyra was constantly being followed, watching what she eats, who she communicates with, how she dresses, Septon Eustace tried to count how many times Rhaenyra had sex with Laenor, and Mushroom told everyone his sexual fantasies about Rhaenyra and assured that it was true. Rhaenyra was gossiped about and slandered in everything: her appearance, the sexual preferences of her first husband, the circumstances of the birth of her children. During the war, all possible gossip began to be created about her second marriage.

Then no. I definitely don't believe Daemon and Nettles were in love with each other.

[themotherofblood]

On dancer reader, can we have some motherly moment between reader, Baela and Rhaena, with a little Daemon participation, please? (would love to read something about their relationship)

yes!! I love this idea, this is a little blurby. Also Daemon being a total girl dad!!

Masterlist | part one | part 2

There wasn’t a scarcity of children in the Old Palace, all your half sinblings, step siblings and even cousins filled every extravagant room the palace had to offer. Luckily, Daemon and your quarters were rather secluded, spacious marble floored rooms over looking The Sunset Sea, the orange hue of the dusk painted your chambers every evening.

This particular evening, Daemon had taken Baela dragon riding. Moondancer had finally grown large enough to be saddled, a shiny purple leather saddle with a gold moon pendant was worn by the young creature. The curtesy of his niece Rhaenyra, she gifted Daemon and by extension you, a clutch of eggs, four magnificently coloured orbs for the babe within you and the many more to come.

You had lounged out at the Mirrored Palace with your family, some painting away with the newest oil colours from Bravos, the others brawled with each other as you embroidered away a red tunic with gold threads. You hadn’t noticed until the hour of crow that Rhaena wasn’t amongst you. You excused yourself, trailing away at the gardens to find the little white haired beauty, instead you found her handmaidens who told you she was in her chambers.

“Rhaena?” You called out, her small frame sat by the lit hearth that held her egg for over a year now, and many more years elsewhere. You huffed, holding onto the chaise rests to lower yourself onto it. “What’s wrong darling?” You pet her head.

“I- I wonder if the egg for my sister would hatch,” she sulked, you knew this to be a sensitive subject for her, she placed her egg down and looked up at you apologetically for her abruptness. Both girls had firmly decided that the child within you would be a girl and then proceeded to pick an egg from the four Rhaenyra had sent.

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t,” you smiled at her, patting the space next to you for her to sit as she cradled her egg. “I do not know much of dragons, I don’t understand it like you do, your father does.” You hugged your arms around her.

“What I do know is, the dragons do not make you who you are,” you stated, a truth you understood about your husband. Caraxes a mere extension of who he was and the fire within him.

“Father seems to think otherwise, everyone in our bloodline has one,” Rhaena pouted as she rest her head against your shoulder “even mother did.”

“That isn’t true, Rhaena,” you cooed “your father wants nothing more than to help you claim one some day, should you ask him he will tell you all the same.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” she questioned, her purple eyes filled with moisture, her bottom lip jutted out and darkened cheeks heated.

“kesrio syt iksā tolī byka,” Daemon’s voice rumbled from behind you, he stood leaning against the posts of the veranda, still in his riding clothes as he approached Rhaena. You are too little.

Rhaena appeared sheepish as she made space for Daemon before plopping herself onto his lap. “I’d rather you be little, chubby and alive rather than a dragon rider. I wasn’t one until I was nearly six summers older than you.” He tickled her tummy making her giggle before resting her head against his shoulder.

“I miss mother,” she reminisced making Daemon turn to you uneasily.

“Well,” you spoke up, pointing at the window where the skies had already darkened “when I miss mine own, I look at the stars.”

“The stars?” Rhaena looked confused.

“Look at them, think of Laena and pick a star that might appear to be her,” you smiled at her “that way, every night your mother can visit you.”

Rhaena looked for a moment, you could see her eyes darting all over before she picked one, her eyes softened “that one,” she whispered pointing at the star.

You later in the week had been met with crucial urgency as your handmaiden huffed, running to you about your husband. Daemon nearly loosing his mind at an ungodly hour in the morrow as he went to rouse Baela. She wanted to see the sun rise from high above the skies, he would have taken Rhaena along with him. He stroked Baela’s pretty hair to rouse her from the pouted dream she had been dreaming, Baela groaned and grumbled, burying herself further under the sheets “papa, no.” She whined as Daemon pulled her.

Instead of chuckling at Baela’s adorable protests, his gut filled with horror as his daughter’s bed was stained with blood. No, no- not his sweetling. He shook Baela harder this time to wake her, looking over her face and arms to find any sign of injury before yelling at the guards to fetch his you and the Maesters.

“Are you hurt? Baela, you must tell me what happened,” he urged her, Baela appeared confused until she saw the blood standing her night gown until she too mirrored her father’s terror.

“Papa, am I going to die?” Baela cried, her bottom lip wobbling. Daemon tried to remain calm as he shook his head, nothing would happen to his daughter. His urgency wasn’t met with enough speedy response, he grew impatient for the Maesters to arrive. “Everything will be fine,” he rocked Baela in his arms.

You burst through Baela’s bed chambers, huffing and cradling your bump as your took in the scene infront of you. The stained bed, the terror on Daemon and Baela’s face, the staining on the lower half of Baela’s nightgown. You shoulders slumped in relief as you slapped a hand over your thudding chest to calm your breathing.

“Daemon she is fine,” you calmly stated.

He began to look at you like madness had filled your head as he gestured to all the blood, how were you not loosing your mind. Merely weeks ago you pulled the entirety of the Old Palace upon your head when Baela cut her elbow from a fall. He shook his head, clutching Baela harder.

“Daemon, she’s flowering.” You sighed, trying to pull Baela away from his tight hold, she looked confused between the two of you.

Daemon frowned “she’s too young,” he shook his head once more, once again refusing to let his daughter go.

“I flowered at eight, she in nine.” you stressed, once again trying to pull Baela away as the Maesters finally came to the her chambers.

The two appeared worried until you spoke without looking at them, asking them to leave a essence of milk of the poppy behind. Baela’s handmaidens we’re ordered to draw a bath for the young girl. “Go on darling,” you nodded at her to clean up as they stripped her sheets.

Daemon still sat on the footrest, looking a little calmer than before as you came to stand in front of him. He groaned, resting his head against your belly before pressing two kisses to it over your robe. “She is fine, Daemon.” You reassured once more by squeezing his shoulder.

“I was so sure-“ he shook his head. “She’s flowering?” Daemon looked up at you, your fingers pushed back his hair as you nodded looking down at him.

“She’s growing,” you stated making Daemon grunt once more, finding the thought of his little girls growing so quickly displeasing.

“See after her? Please,” he requested, you nodded before moving behind the divider when Baela sat submerged in her tube, only her head popped out of the milky water.

“I am not dying?” she asked, still confused. You shook your head.

“It’s your moon blood, it shall happen for every turn of the moon,” you said making her grimace.

“Every moon!” She exclaimed making you giggle.

“Unfortunately so darling,” you smiled at her sympathetically.

The handmaidens brought chamomile tea from the kitchens for you to lace with a drop of milk of the poppy. Enough to make the rumbling pain in her belly heel, her handmaidens wrapped her in thick cloth before helping her back in bed.

“This tea is going to heal her?” Daemon paced by the foot of the bed.

“Don’t be daft Daemon,” you glared at him chicken mothering down your neck. He knows well enough that one cannot just heal away moon blood. “It’s for the pain.”

Rhaena had long awoken and found herself situated next to her twin sister, she appeared a little nervous about the blood but curious. She hugged her sister a little too tight making Baela swat her back before succumbing to her hold. The two of you left the girls to rest as you pulled Daemon out of their rooms.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you thought over the brave Rogue Prince loosing his bearings over moon blood. He glared out you, making you laugh even harder, choking out apologies as you clutched your bump trying to stop. He groaned all the way through, dragging you back your shared bed chamber as your fit of giggles just wouldn’t stop.

“You can either stop giggling like a child, or I can make you,” he warned, his own lips faltering as they curled upwards with your giggles.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ!ʀʜᴀᴇɴʏʀᴀ'ꜱ ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ ʙᴀʙʏ ʜᴄꜱ

pronouns: they them warnings: suggestive, no smut

in this scenario lets say you're Jace's friend from university/college and your struggling with finances so he makes sure you invite you to his parents place every weekend so he knows you're okay and eating well

you become a constant and she no longer has to ask Jace if you're coming over, your place is always set

but one day she comes to collect you both for dinner and she hears you talking to Jace, talking about your struggles to pay rent

she's proud to hear him offer a space at his own place but there's a growing worry in Rhaenyra's gut when you refuse

she knocks on the door and acts as though she doesn't notice your red eyes while inviting you downstairs

it is only after you leave, thanking her graciously as always, that she speaks with her husband Daemon about it and while he shares her sympathies, he isn't concerned, only waving his hand and saying you'll figure it out

so a plan develops in her head that night as she stays awake

she goes out the next day and decides to pick you up as many inconspicuous things as she can starting at simple things like a shirt to replace the one Luke stained with dinner the other night and then a lip-gloss she thought would suit you

she starts slow

and she reaps the benefits the next weekend when you thank her and embrace her in a warm hug, something stirs, something unfamiliar

she only clears her throat and runs a hand through her short hair, asking Daemon to pace the plates around

the next weekend comes and she finds herself excited to bring you the box of chocolates she claimed to gift to Daemon only to find he's allergic to something in them

if we say this is September then it takes until December for her to get you a larger present, excited to see you with them at the holidays

the second your eyes light up, she realises what that stir clutching her heart is and she doesn't enjoy burying it down

she knows her husband sees it to with the sudden interest he displays in you himself

she and Daemon knew when they married that they weren't going to be in a monogamous relationship with the way his eyes wandered over Laena Velaryon who always partook in some of their...activities

they're happy to explore and right now she wants to explore you

her arm lingers around you and stays there as you watch Joffrey help Aegon figure out one of his toys

it's only the night before you are set to leave that she makes her move, creeping to your guest bedroom door at midnight

you open with a flushed face and fidgety hands, smiling up at your best friend's kind mum and pretending the thoughts you had of her were completely pure

her smile grows as she asks how your doing before mentioning she has another gift for you

you invite her in, settling on the bed together as you unwrap the carefully prepared present

you're greeted by a very expensive necklace and cover your mouth with your hand to hold in your surprise

as you splutter your thanks, she chuckles and tells you it's nothing before brushing back your hair and pressing a kiss to your cheek

it surges the heat already there to travel across your face

she leans back but not far, mischief dancing in her eyes as she stares into your, the intimacy growing

"Sweet one" she murmurs throughout the night, dancing her tongue along every part of you until you fold in her palm

she's returned to her room by the time you wake up and you don't have much time before Jace is beckoning you to the car outside

she winks and says she'll see you soon and that's that

you're back in your dorm and trying to forget her while still completing your coursework when suddenly your phone is ringing

"hi darling," is greeting you on the other side with that deep beautiful voice "I thought you could do with a pick-me-up so I made a reservation for us"

Your mouth obviously drops open in surprise but with the gears whirring in your head you don't notice when she hangs up, already on her way

you spend the next half hour pacing and debating who you should call, was this friendly? was she expecting something? reservation where?

the cool knocking on the door interrupts your thought pattern and walks your hesitant steps to open it, peaking your head to see Rhaenyra Targaryen dressed in a detailed black garment and an expensive branded bag hanging from her hand

you open the door wider for her to enter but the shock halts most of your questions

"I found this and thought you would look wonderful in it" she tells you, thrusting it into your arms

she's an impulsive woman, you shouldn't be surprised at her lack of discussion, regardless you change with a frantic mind and when you come out, your blushing at her praise and encouragement

you don't know where she's taking you until you're standing in front of the lavish restaurant and being tugged by her arm to a table

you sit opposite one another and her smile doesn't cease as she seats a packaged bracelet on the table and straightens her posture

"I want you to let me know if it fits or not your style, I kept the receipt, sweet one"

"Why did you ask me here?" You blurt, some suspicion in your tone

she raises her eyebrows and her lips curl. her hand reaches across the table and interlaces your hands together across the table

"I'd like to make an arrangement with you..."

so this focuses more on how the relationship starts but i'll make a part 2 if that is something you would like :)

[maidragoste]

anyway I have Daemon dadgirl planned because HBO robbed us 😤

Girl not only that, but also Daemon being a malewife and not with Rhaenyra, but with Laena his second wife.

In the books, unlike in the show, Daemon marries Laena without needing to ruin her reputation, but winning her hand by killing her drunk bethrothed.

Daemon marries her and they spend years travelling, HE WAS LOYAL AS HELL, HE LOOKED HAPPY AND CONTENT, and when the twins were born, Daemon brought them and Laena at court and BEGGED to his brother who was angry for his second marriage, to legitimate his daughters.

The rouge prince. The PROUD ROUGE PRINCE PLEADED TO HIS BROTHER FOR HIS OWN FAMILY TO BE RECOGNIZED.

These moments of humanity that demonstrate Daemon can be decent were cut off in favour of Daemyra or Daemon hate(look he's not my fave as well butttt me and some fans that don't love Daemon are there like: "why? With these few moments they will make him a morally grey character)

Writers were spurred by Daemon hate or racism😑(Laena and Elia get behind me! Also you too Nettles) and they say Laena and Daemon's relationship wasn't as passionate as Daemyra.

***

If you make the twins Baela and Rhaena sea dragon's daughters, I can see Rhaena being so insecure because her egg didn't hatch, believing she's a bastard, plus Daemon is being a negligent ass and sea dragon! Reader is there for blood.

Because baby is aware how it feels being judged.

Sea!dragon reader(her faceclaim is so beautiful *holds her gently*) was considered less Targaryen, especially by the good king misogynistic Jaehaerys, because of her black hair and dark purple eyes.

Then her egg, gifted by king Viserys to mend he and Rhaenys' relationship, hatched and it was the best day of her life.

Laena, PLS, let her live, let her have children! And not with Harwin but with a velaryon! cousin, then we have Laenor is living the best life and be like to his father:

"No need for me to marry father😉"

Laenor is the rich and "single" uncle that everyone loves.

Rhaenyra and Harwin marry and have the strong boys🤭 and she and Alicent makes up after a while.

I KNOW GIRL, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THE SHOW FOR HOW THEY RETRACTED DAEMON AND LAENA'S RELATIONSHIP 😫

I totally agree with you, those moments of Daemon with his family showed his humanity and I HATE that the show didn't include that.

I'm not POC so the truth is at first I didn't realize the racism in the show until I started reading analysis and everything changed for me. I honestly don't understand the point of making the Velaryon POC and then treating them like this

Now talking about Rhaena as the daughter of Daemon and Sea Dragon

Nooo baby Rhaena thinking she's a bastard because her egg didn't hatch 😭 Sea Dragon would be heartbroken to see her baby so insecure 🥺

Sea Dragon barely sees any sign of Daemon being negligent towards Rhaena and is ready to put an end to it. She is not going to tolerate her daughter being treated differently for not having a dragon.

I can see Jaehaerys treating Sea Dragon differently but at the same time it seems strange to me because her mother was also a Velaryon so perhaps it would make more sense for him to treat her differently because she is the daughter of Rhaenys and not Viserys. Like I can see the little Sea Dragon struggling to get Jaehaerys' attention while Rhaenyra doesn't even have to try.

Now I imagine Daemon and Sea Dragon roasting Jaehaerys while drinking wine lol

It had never occurred to me about Viserys giving a dragon egg to Sea Dragon but now that you mention it I LOVE IT.

I plan for Laena to have children and they will not be with Harwin. Still I can't promise if she will live and Rhaenyra will marry Harwin instead of Laenor. Sorry but for now I plan to continue having war hahaha

but who knows maybe later I'll change my mind and if I do everything fluff and happy

Thank you for writing to me and I hope you are well 🥰🥰💖

[humanpurposes]

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part v, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // She's the first one that I see

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, questionable relationships, you know the drill, also mentions of terminal illness.

Words: 9300

A/n: Aemond's pov here we gooo. This part gets its own header coz vibes. Also available to read on AO3.

Another summer brought another two months at Dragonstone. 

The relief Aemond felt clambering out of his mother’s Volvo and into the coastal breeze was immeasurable. Helaena got the front seat, as always, which left the three boys to be packed into the backseat for two hours, in the middle of a June heatwave.

He somewhat resented Daemon and Laena’s absence this year. Generally they alternated summers between Dragonstone and Pentos with the Velaryons. It was a shame, his uncle often brought some much needed tension to family holidays, the entertaining kind as opposed to the depressing kind, and Baela and Rhaena were by far the most tolerable of the younger family members.

Viserys hadn’t arrived yet. He had some work things to catch up on and would drive down later, which just left the Strongs. Alicent had received a call from Rhaenyra while they were in the car to say they’d be a few hours behind them. Thank the Gods. At least it gave them a few hours of peace.

Dragonstone had originally been built as a castle, preserved over the centuries as a place for pleasure rather than a defensive keep. It had a gatehouse, turrets, arrowslits, parapets and ivy sprawling over the outer walls that turned red in the autumn. It looked idyllic, like a castle out of a fairytale.

After bringing his bag up to his room there was only one place Aemond wanted to be.

His favourite part of coming back to Dragonstone were the gardens, sprawling walks of greenery, sweet-smelling rose bushes and sandstone archways. If the weather was right, he could convince himself he was in some remote corner of an Italian manor house. 

One of the gravel paths led down to the pool, overlooked by a patio from the back of the main house. It was a blissful little oasis, when he could have it to himself, of crystal clear water, tall hedges and blue and orange tiles laid out in intricate patterns. 

He had his trunks on already and left his t-shirt and shorts on a sun lounger before he slipped into the water. The cold was a welcome reprieve, especially when he dunked his head under and pushed off from the side, cutting through the water with powerful strokes. 

It had been a while since he’d had time for swimming and he felt slightly irritated at the ache in his arms from the unfamiliar movements. To be fair to himself, he hadn’t made time for any hobbies over the last few weeks on account of his exams, and it had paid off at least. He still had a few weeks until he would get his results but he knew he would do well. 

As far as he was concerned, his future was set. He would get four A*s, then in September he’d be off to Oldtown to start university. In three years, he would graduate with a first and come back to King’s Landing to start at Targ Corp, despite his grandfather’s attempts to convince him to consider a career at Beacon, the Hightower family business. Otto had a vision that one day, his grandsons would run two of the largest companies in Westeros, Aegon at Targ Corp and Aemond at Beacon.

Although the offer of a generous salary and an internship during his studies had sounded tempting, it was a question of pride more than anything. The silver hair should have been evidence enough; Aemond was a Targaryen before he was a Hightower.

Despite his determination to live up to the family name, he had come to resent these summers at their ancestral home. The house and the gardens were beautiful, and he loved being so close to the isolated beach below the hill the house was set on, but he could think of no worse fate than having to spend ten weeks with his insufferable sister, their father’s pride and joy, her idiotic husband and their three sons. 

He ran his hands over his face as he emerged on the other side of the pool, his left palm skimming over the scar on the side of his face. It was easy to forget it was there sometimes, until he’d catch someone frowning at it. 

Rhaenyra was lucky his mother hadn’t pressed charges and publically issued a statement that the whole thing had been a “tragic accident”. Later he learnt Alicent had been holding it over Rhaenyra’s head ever since, waiting for a time when she’d need the leverage.

Ten weeks with the Strongs was all that stood between him and the rest of his life, some sick test of patience. 

He wasn’t alone for long before he spotted Aegon and Daeron at the outlook up at the house. They sprinted out of view and soon came hurtling down the steps to the pool in their trunks. They leapt in, disturbing Aemond’s laps but he reluctantly let himself be happy that the three of them were in the same place for once.

Aegon had just finished a degree in criminal psychology. Alicent and Otto had had to practically buy him a place at KLU. How he had managed to pass was a mystery to everyone, Aemond wondered if he had pulled it together at the last minute purely out of spite. He had already been living in a flat in central with a few of his friends for the last two years. Helaena said he rarely visited the house.

Aemond and Daeron had barely been back from Duskendale before they were all in the car to Dragonstone. He hadn’t minded boarding school, in some ways it made him appreciate the times he got to be at home, and it meant he didn’t have to see his father on a daily basis or watch his mother drive herself insane with her self-imposed workload. Again, Helaena gave him updates on that. He supposed it would make the move to Oldtown less jarring. 

For now he laughed as Aegon challenged them to swimming races and tackled Daeron when he lost. The oldest Targaryen brother was surprisingly strong for his shorter stature. Daeron towered over him but he was wiry, easy for Aegon to sling him over his shoulder.

They were making such a scene in the water that Aemond didn’t notice his mother until she shouted Aegon’s name from the bottom of the steps. “Put your brother down and get changed, seven hells!”

Aegon tossed Daeron’s legs over his head, sending him flopping unceremoniously into the pool. “What’s the rush?” 

“Rhaenyra and Harwin are only half an hour away!” Alicent shrieked, as if this was something they should have cared about. “And they’re bringing a guest, so I want you all presentable and ready for dinner before they arrive.”

Daeron was starting to climb up the ladder, so Aemond pressed his palms to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out. 

“What guest?” he asked, reaching for his towel from one of the sun loungers.

Harwin’s niece. 

She’d been a flower girl at Harwin and Rhaenyra’s wedding, but he only knew that from the photographs. He didn’t remember the last time he must have seen her, probably some family gathering with the Strongs, before Luke slashed a knife in his face and they stopped seeing them as often. 

Aegon seemed eager for “fresh meat” as they marched back up to the house.

Daeron was more sceptical and shot Aemond a concerned frown. “Just what we need, another Strong kid.”

After a quick shower, Aemond changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of dark green cargo trousers, and made his way through the maze of hallways and ornate staircases. He found his parents in the reception hall, a spacious room located at the front of the house, leading off from the entrance hall,  going through to the dining room on one side and the drawing room from the other. It was where they usually lingered when the arrival of a guest was imminent. 

Most of the visitors to Dragonstone considered this to be the most impressive room in the house, with its tall stained glass windows, silver chandelier, walnut panelling and carved columns supporting a gallery on the first floor.

The smell of smoke and charred wood drifted from the fireplace, mingling with the musk of antique velvet sofas. Alicent was torn between typing something on her phone and discussing some arrangement with their head of security, a deceptively young looking man with black hair named Criston Cole.

Evidently Viserys had arrived. He was sitting in a red armchair, taking small sips of a glass of whisky. He looked up when he heard footsteps against the floor, and offered his son a vague nod.

Helaena and Daeron weren’t far behind Aemond, and Aegon was of course the last to make it down. He insisted it was “perfect timing,” because the moment he walked into the room, Cole received a call from the front gate.

Daeron perched on the windowsill and jittering like a puppy as a black escalade pulled up before the gatehouse. 

Within minutes Viserys was throwing his arms around his favourite child. Aemond cast a cold glare over Harwin, Jace, Luke and little Joffrey, clinging to his father’s hand with his thumb in his mouth. The sixth guest followed behind them.

Her hair was pulled away from her face, wide eyes sweeping curiously over the people, the paintings on the walls and the antiques in glass cabinets. The beginning of a smile spread across her lips, but her face fell when her eyes met his.

Aemond sucked his teeth into his lips. He was used to people looking at him like that, or averting their gaze altogether. He could only imagine what Jace and Luke might have told her about their cruel uncle and his horrible scar. 

At dinner she sat on the other end of the table from him, between Harwin and Jace. She was a few years older than her cousins but they all seemed to get on well, joking and smiling at each other. It made Aemond’s blood boil.

Daeron made a point of introducing himself to her but he suspected this show of hospitality was mostly because she was pretty.

She really was pretty though, and quiet, but not necessarily in a nervous way. She seemed content to listen, smiling vaguely at the things people said, feeling no need to fill the silences. When she did smile– properly smile– it was wide, bright and unashamed. 

He overheard her mention an interest in history as dessert was brought out, asking Rhaenyra and Viserys all sorts of questions about Dragonstone’s origins and architecture. He thought of a few books in the library he could recommend but dismissed the idea. When Aegon suggested giving her a tour of the house he felt his grip on his fork tighten. 

Dragonstone was large enough that even with most of the family there it was easy to feel alone, and Aemond spent the first few days of their stay doing exactly that. In the mornings he’d go for a run, then head down to either the pool or the beach for a quick swim. He had his reading list for uni already and was making his way through a textbook on political philosophy, which he read either in the library or a quiet corner of the garden. 

Daeron and Aegon were far better at being civil with Jace and Luke than he was, and she seemed happy to tag along with their antics. Aemond avoided them where he could. 

One afternoon he decided to take his textbook to the patio at the back of the house, and winced at the shrieks of laughter coming from the pool. He was going to head back inside but found himself stepping towards the balustrade, looking over the greenery to the unnaturally blue water.

She was sitting on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, with her legs in the water. Even from so far away he could make out the details of her smile, her teeth, the roundness of her cheeks and the way she squinted her eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, until a gentle voice pulled him from his trance.

“Aemond?”

His heart almost stopped and he spun around immediately. An awful feeling sank into his chest, like he’d done something wrong.

Helaena was standing in the doorway, in a pale blue sundress and purple sandals. “Me and mum were going to drive into the village, if you’d like to come?”

Maybe some time away from the house would do him good. He nodded and uttered a quiet “yes.”

She came onto her tiptoes, trying to peer past his shoulder, but from where she was standing she wouldn’t have been able to see what he was looking at. Maybe she didn’t need to see. Another few howls of laughter drifted up to the patio, and a cry of “Aegon, you bastard!” 

Helaena sighed and smiled. He left his book on a table in the entrance hall and followed his sister out to the gatehouse where Alicent was already waiting in the Volvo.

The village was just over a ten minute drive away from the house. Aemond leaned his head against the window in the backseat, feeling content in the blur of vibrant greens and blues. He could have fallen asleep to the hum of the air con and the voices of his mother and sister.

Until he heard her name.

“What?” he mumbled, absentmindedly, shifting himself in the seat and catching Helaena’s eye through her overhead mirror.

“She’s starting her A Levels in September,” Alicent said. “Politics, philosophy and history, same as you.”

He had also taken an extra class in High Valyrian, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

“You’d get on I think,” Helaena added, pushing her John Lennon-esque sunglasses on top of her head. He could see she was smirking.

Aemond huffed and went back to staring out the window at the fields, the sky, the sea and the wildflowers growing at the side of the road. He could say he didn’t care about their guest but it would have been a lie. He couldn’t get that red swimsuit out of his head.

Eventually he started agreeing to the occasional beach trip or tennis match. Turns out he quite enjoyed spending time with his nephews when he could beat them at something. And it meant he could see her more often.

There were these odd moments, when he’d catch her staring at him over breakfast or by the pool, that got his hopes up a little, only for her to quickly look away and find someone to fawn over, usually Aegon or one of her cousins. But then she’d find him in the garden and ask about the book he was reading, or sit next to him when they lit a campfire on the beach, just brushing her leg against his. 

They could be confusing but he liked those moments. Every day he woke up ectatic that he would get to see her, and that they might talk about politics or philosophy or a shared love for Daphne du Maurier or the Great Gatsby.

He needed her alone, just once.

He got the chance on the last weekend of July. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Helaena had gone to Rosby for the day, while Harwin had been talking about a trip to Dragonstone harbour to go fishing, something Daeron sounded rather enthusiastic about. Leaving him, Aegon and Viserys at the house. 

After a late breakfast, Aemond went up to the library with the next book on his reading list, An Introduction to Essosi Regionalism. He was rather taken aback to see her sitting at the writing desk by the window. He had assumed she had gone to the harbour with the others.

In a sudden and awkward motion she stood and turned to face him, with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Sorry,” she said, pointing at the desk, “did you want to–”

“No.” He instantly regretted how short and final he sounded. 

Her eyes dipped and he realised he was clutching his book far too tightly.

“I was only looking really,” she said, reaching back for her book, a biography of Queen Alysanne. 

“You like history,” he said, intending it to be a question but it sounded more like a statement.

She smiled again, at his mistake, he guessed. “Yeah, it’s incredible getting to spend so much time here, it’s a beautiful house.”

He stepped forward to place his book on the desk behind her, noticing the sweet citrusy scent of her perfume and the way  she tensed up when he came too close.

“I could show you around, if you’d like? I mean, you’ve already been here long enough and you’ve probably seen most of it by now–”

It was only when she put a hand on his shoulder did he realise his head had dropped down to the floor.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Suddenly his chest felt a little lighter.

He showed her his favourite parts of the house, except the library which she had already seen, obviously. She had so many questions, noticed every detail and traced her fingertips along the ancient stone walls with a look of wonder that made his heart flutter.

Then they came to the long gallery overlooking the reception hall. He pointed out the fan vaulted ceiling detailed with gold and the line of portraits of hundreds of years of Targaryen history, monarchs and more recent family members. She was especially fascinated with a portrait of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne with children. She could put a name and a story to every face.

She turned her head towards him and her breath hitched when she realised he was looking at her. His first instinct was to back away and apologise, but she didn’t move or say anything, just looked up at him with those pretty eyes. 

He wondered if he should kiss her. He’d never tried to kiss someone before. It should have been simple enough but it felt so daunting. What if he did it wrong? What if she didn’t want him to?

He saw her eyes flicker to his scar, and felt like he understood.

“Do you want to look at the old solar?” he asked, already walking towards the north door at the end of the gallery.

Behind him he heard her mutter a quiet “yeah.”

He rushed through the last few rooms. He could hardly catch his breath or think beyond the choking feeling in his throat or how hot the house seemed all of a sudden.

“Do you want to go outside?” she asked when he suggested going to the Maegor suite. 

He nodded, and followed her down to the entrance hall, where they ran into Aegon. He was in trunks and an unbuttoned shirt to show off the tan on his abs.

He glanced between them with a strange look in his eye. “Beach?”

“Sounds good!” she said with a bright smile. “I just need to get some stuff from my room.”

Aegon grinned at her, then at his brother.

“I’m good, thanks,” Aemond grumbled, and went to spend the rest of the day sulking in his room.

Something was different about her after that. She stopped asking so many questions and rather than smile at him when they passed each other in the hallways she sighed and put her head down.

He really didn’t have much experience with these kinds of things, and he sure in seven hells wasn’t going to ask Aegon for advice. 

He wished there was something he could do, but every time he thought about trying to talk to her he pictured her eyes on his scar and decided he’d rather spare her the trouble.

August went by far too quickly and then she was gone.

His time at the University of Oldtown brought some interesting experiences.

People seemed to respect him in a way he wasn’t used to. His lecturers complimented his work and his commitment to his studies. His classmates listened to him when he spoke in seminars, asked for his opinions on current affairs and invited him to lunches and parties. 

He felt like a novelty in Oldtown, people wanted to befriend him, be seen with him, earn his approval. He felt shallow for admitting it, but the newfound attention felt good.

When he went back to King’s Landing that first summer, everyone said he was different. He’d always been interested in sports but he’d committed to a gym routine, shed some of the baby fat and toned out nicely. He traded the trackies and sports trainers for black shirts and leather jackets, got his ears pierced, drank whisky and smoked cigarettes on nights out.

And it turned out he wasn’t as hideous as he thought he was, in fact more often than not, the scar worked in his favour when it came to flirting. 

After graduating he spent the summer in Oldtown, on an internship at Beacon, until Alicent told him she needed him in King’s Landing. She needed a contender of her own to pose as Viserys’ successor against Rhaenyra, and it was obvious neither Aegon or Helaena were going to live up to her expectations. So he did as he was told and moved back home, just in time for everything to start going wrong.

Viserys made his will. Rhaenyra was set to inherit Targ Corp and just about everything else he owned, including Dragonstone. Fucking typical. She had always been his golden child, all that was left of his beloved first wife. His mother always said he never got over Aemma. Singling out Rhaenyra was his way of making it up to her.

But Alicent had been the one helping Viserys run Targ Corp for twenty years, while Rhaenyra’s only real talent was her ability to get whatever she wanted out of their father.

If Rhaenyra were to succeed Viserys, everything his mother had worked for would be for nothing, but Aemond could be the one to change that. He could bring Targ Corp to new heights and live up to the legacy of the Targaryen name. All he needed was for Viserys to give him that chance.

Alicent had been in talks with Borros Baratheon of Storm’s End, an energy company based in the Stormlands. A deal with them would open Targ Corp to a whole new industry, and maybe then Viserys would recognise the lapse in judgement. 

The Storm’s End contract was everything and Alicent had trusted Aemond to see it through. Only it fell apart in his hands. One seemingly minor mistake and Baratheon was out.

Alicent was devastated and it killed him. The late nights and weekends working in the office when she should have been with her children, the constant spite and security from the corporate world, the tabloid news stories that called her a “gold digger,” and the years she spent chasing her husband’s approval had all been for nothing.

She never said it, but Aemond knew she blamed him.

It had been a shitty three months and by December he was exhausted. Daeron was back from Duskendale, Aegon was staying for a few weeks, and Helaena was adamant that they were going to have an enjoyable Christmas. She covered the house in fairy lights and put up a tree in the living room, decorated with colourful baubles that really had nothing to do with Christmas; rainbows, butterflies and bees. 

The other three agreed to indulge her. Aegon suddenly became an expert at Christmas cocktails, Daeron was in a baking frenzy and Aemond put his old piano lessons to good use. He sat at the baby grand in the hallway for the first time in forever and played some old hymns mum used to make them sing. Until Aegon put the chords for Fairytale of New York in front of him, which he agreed was a much better song.

Alicent came in from the office on the 24th, rain soaked through her coat and her eyes red. She’d had a call from Lyonel Strong.

Harwin was in the hospital. Pancreatic cancer. He’d been ignoring the symptoms for years apparently, and by the time Rhaneyra made him get a diagnosis it was too late.

Nothing was an isolated issue. Mum, dad, Rhaenyra, work… everything fed off each other in a single spiral of chaos and grief.

He needed the space, he decided at a fundraiser on New Years Eve. He and Viserys had arrived together but they didn’t so much as make eye contact the entire night. Rhaenyra was understandably inconsolable, mum had refused to go, Helaena wasn’t cut out for these kinds of events and Daeron was studying for mock exams. He at least found solace in the knowledge that he was preferable to Aegon.

A woman with black hair caught his attention. She moved effortlessly throughout the room, martini in hand, which she sipped through dark red lips as she struck up conversations with the other attendees. Did she realise she was targeting the richest people in the room? Probably. She blended in well, in a black slip dress and a pearl necklace, but there was something else, glaring him right in the face.

She was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.

She smirked when she realised he was staring at her. After ordering herself another drink she waltzed over to him and introduced herself as “Alys Rivers.”

He must have let a little of his shock show on his face, because she smirked again.

Alys Rivers. Harwin’s cousin. The woman with the pretty daughter who’d spent a summer at Dragonstone.

They chatted for hours, she was very curious to hear about the company politics at Targ Corp, the few months he’d been working there and the whole debacle with the Storm’s End contract. She told him about herself too. She worked for Harrenhal PR, alongside her brothers, but was looking to start her own company.

He asked about Harwin. 

That was the only time her perfect persona faltered, just for a moment, but then she took a sip of her drink and she was back to business. She said she was doing alright. It was a shock, he was like a brother to her, and she was trying to make the most of the moments she had left with him.

“It makes you appreciate what you have,” she said. They had found a table in a corner of the bar, ordering too many cocktails. She sighed heavily and put her hand on her chest, over her heart, “I’m so lucky I’ve got my darling girl.”

He didn’t even need to ask before she started telling him more. She was in her second year of studying history at KLU, a bright student, a sweet and serious girl.

She said Harwin adored her, always had, even once things got serious with Rhaenyra and he started having kids of his own.

“Poor thing,” he said, “this must all be so hard on her.”

“She’s like me,” Alys insisted, finishing off another martini. Her words were starting to slur, but even when she was drunk she did it gracefully. “Nothing phases her.”

He could still remember the smell of her perfume, sweet and citrusy.

Alys’s perfume was dark, bitter and boozy. When he kissed her the taste of her martinis burned on his tongue. Vodka. He was more of a gin man.

Generally he tried to avoid one night stands, but it didn’t take much convincing before he found himself in her hotel room.

He spent the entire night on his back while she edged him relentlessly, with her hands and her mouth, before she finally rode him, whispering praises in his ear as she did it. 

He decided it would be bad manners not to text her, so the following Friday night, they went to a steakhouse on Conquest street. It felt more like a business meeting than a date, they talked more about Targ Corp and her plans for her own PR firm. She had the ambition and industry knowledge, but needed the strategy and the connections to make it work. 

“You and I could be a match made in heaven,” he said.

She paused midway through a sip of red wine, and raised her eyebrow ever so slightly. “I don’t usually go for younger men,” she said, “but you’re smart and uncomplicated. I think we could work something out.”

The line between business and pleasure was non-existent. They looked over contracts and business plans over coffee, accompanied each other to conferences and fucked in hotel rooms. She was straightforward, blunt at times but he found it impressive and refreshing. He never had to guess what she was thinking because she didn’t see the point in trying to hide behind niceties. Every time he complimented her confidence she said it was “a consequence of age.”

Things moved faster than he realised. Suddenly winter was turning into spring and Alys asked him to work for Rivers PR full time. 

He found the wherewithal to tell Alicent and Viserys on a rare occasion that his father actually bothered to eat with them. He tried to be as casual as he could about his sabbatical from Targ Corp. It ended with an explosive row over the dinner table, leaving both Helaena and his mother in tears. Viserys was still shouting from the hallway as he packed an overnight bag and stormed out to his car.

He had to call three times before Aegon finally picked up. “Good for you!” his brother cheered down the end of the phone. “Who would have thought you’d end up like this though? Six months ago you were mum’s favourite son.”

“She just kept telling me I was selfish,” Aemond said, first the Storm’s End contract and now this. “And apparently Rhaenyra’s been up in arms about Alys branching off from Harrenhal, especially with everything that’s going on with Harwin.”

“Will you go to hers then?”

He was already heading towards central. “That’s why I called, I need somewhere to stay, I thought you could put me up for a bit.”

Aegon drew out an exaggerated “uhh,” and Aemond hung up, not in the mood to listen to some long winded excuse.

He gripped the steering wheel as he came to a junction and a sign for Queen’s Park. So much for being “uncomplicated.”

Alys was in a silk robe when she opened the door. “Mummy and daddy kicked you out?” she asked with a pouty frown.

He insisted he had left of his own accord.

It was a beautiful terraced house, plaster fronted, overlooking the park. The interior was understated and elegant, dark wood floors, white walls and bursts of muted greens.

It was quiet too, and the only light came from the kitchen.

“Where’s–”

“She’s out with a few friends,” Alys said.

He followed her through to the kitchen, where she poured out two glasses of wine and he told her everything. 

By the time he was done she had finished her glass. She looked into it, like she was surprised to see that it was empty. He hadn’t touched his. 

“Are you planning on staying for long?” she asked.

For a moment he felt stupid for coming to her at all. He couldn’t quite figure out what they were to each other, and suddenly he was showing up on her doorstep and using her like a therapist. 

“I called Aegon first but I think he’s busy. I can be gone in the morning if you want.”

She took hold of his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the fabric of his shirt. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

He looked at her. He was used to her expression being so smug and severe, but she looked gentle now, her eyes wide and full of pity. When he took a shallow breath he realised she was wearing the same, dark perfume from New Years.

He kissed her slowly, nudging his nose against hers and slipping a hand around her waist to pull her in closer.

She chuckled softly as she pulled away. “I’ll be off early in the morning. Take some time if you need to, sort something out with Aegon or…”

“Right,” he said, swallowing down the lingering taste of red wine from her lips.

They slept in her bed, with their backs to each other.

When he woke in the morning Alys was gone. He checked the time on his phone, 8am, and he had a text from her: Help yourself to coffee. Let me know what your plan is.

He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he headed downstairs. He quickly figured out his way around the expensive coffee machine and settled on a stool at the island with a cup of black coffee.

His hands were restless, tapping against the coffee cup and the counter top. 

She was in the same house as him, probably sound asleep upstairs, though he hadn’t heard anyone come in during the night. Did she know he was here? She must have seen the car outside, but she wouldn’t know it was his. 

He’d hardly even considered the possibility of seeing her again until now, but he hadn’t expected things with to Alys to go this far.

He looked down at his phone. Maybe staying with Alys wasn’t such a good idea. He started typing out a text to Aegon when he heard the door to the kitchen open.

“Hello again.”

She stood in the doorway, squinting her eyes at him, hair loose and tousled, in nothing but an overused Black Sabbath t-shirt that covered the tops of her thighs. She looked a little dishevelled and utterly perfect.

“Hi,” Aemond said, putting his phone down and reaching for his cup. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I got a text from mum. She said she had a guest and I was free to ignore him or kick him out.”

“Have you decided which?”

She huffed a laugh and there was that smile again, though not as wide as it had been that summer. “I felt like being nosy,” she said. 

She moved towards the sink and filled a glass of water, which she finished in one go, with a sound of satisfaction. She drew the tip of her tongue between her lips and set the glass on the counter before she turned to look at him again. “So you’re mum’s new boytoy?”

“Is that what she calls me?” he said, trying to play off the tight feeling in his chest with a small smirk.

“She doesn’t call you anything, actually. She’s been going on these little dates, calling them ‘work calls’ and hoping I won’t notice.”

“How do you know they’re not work calls?”

“I wouldn’t have until she brought you home with her.”

“That was my fault…” he looked down at his coffee. He was convinced he could already feel the caffeine buzzing in his fingertips.

“You look different,” she said.

His eyes shot back to her. “How so?”

“Your hair’s longer. It makes you look older.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled at the way she recoiled into herself.

“I meant it as a compliment, honest.”

She looked different too. Her face hadn’t changed much from what he could remember, but mostly he noticed that she seemed more subdued. Her eyes were set in dark circles and they weren’t as wide, and when she wasn’t speaking her lips fell slightly. She looked older, but then how long had it been since Dragonstone? More than three years, less than four. 

She told him where everything was in the kitchen, which he could have figured out himself but he didn’t want to interrupt her. She asked how long he was going to stay and he said until he heard back from Aegon.

That turned out to be a week later, and by then Alys insisted she liked having him around.

Initially he looked at a few rentals, which Alys discouraged and insisted he should buy his own place. Between work and the daily mass of texts he was getting from his siblings about Targ Corp and their parents, he couldn’t find the time to truly consider it.

It was easy to fall into a routine with Alys. She left for work earlier than him so he took his own car every morning. Everyone at the office guessed they were ‘together’ but they kept things professional. If he so much as put a hand on her shoulder she scared him off with a warning look. She always stayed later than him so he’d go back to the house, sort out dinner and have it waiting for when the girls got home.

The girls. He was going domestic.

She only had lectures a few times a week and when she was at home she stayed in her bedroom, only occasionally bringing a book down to the garden or the lounge while he worked in the kitchen. He wondered if she was avoiding him. Considering the awful impression he made at Dragonstone, he didn’t blame her. 

But eventually she started to warm up to him. They found some common interests and small talk turned into in-depth discussions of history and politics and their favourite films and albums. She loved Mazzy Star especially. Sometimes, when he had the house to himself, he’d listen through their albums and imagine her listening to the same songs.

He soon learned just how elusive Alys could be. She always had something going on, a work event, a conference or even trips to Pentos with her old uni friends. When she was at home she was usually in the study on the top floor of the house, on a call, looking over contracts or managing some kind of crisis that only she could solve. If he joined her on work trips it was by her invitation.

So he often found himself alone with her. Movie nights became a weekly ritual, usually late in the week, and every week they seemed to sit a little closer to each other than before.

One night she fell asleep against him. His arm was around the back of the sofa and her head gently fell against his chest.

He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should wake her, but she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, lips parted and breath fluttering down the collar of his t-shirt. Her body was warm and she was wearing that same citrusy perfume. 

He wanted to keep her there. He could lie down, hold her in his arms and fall asleep pressed into her back.

Guilt told him otherwise. So he moved away from her, as carefully as he could, and guided her to lie fully on the sofa with a pillow under her head and a blanket draped over her body.

Alys came in from a dinner sometime after 1am and slipped wordlessly into her side of the bed. Within minutes he could hear her gentle snores.

He closed his eyes but he didn’t sleep. All he could think about was her breath on his chest, the way her shorts had ridden up her thighs, and that fucking perfume. 

He was probably just tired, getting excited by some old crush which he was way past by now. He was sure he would forget about it by the morning.

If only it had ended there.

By the time spring came around she had warmed up to him. They spent Sunday mornings drinking coffee together in the garden and went for drives out to Blackwater Bay. They had inside jokes and talked about their families. Some nights she’d come crying to him over uni, arguments with her mother and a stupid boy who broke her heart. She was so pretty when she cried.

When she asked him to help her with a particular exam he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about their study sessions together, the way she shuddered when he put a hand on her shoulder, the way her breath hitched when he praised her.

His heart swelled when she came home from that exam with a wide smile, throwing herself into his arms and telling him all the details she could remember. Her eyes were so bright and gazing up at him almost adoringly. 

He was so happy for her, and so proud.

She didn’t pull away when he kissed her. She met him with soft touches to his neck and a hummed whimper that threatened to spark something primal in him. 

They smiled at each other when it was over, until the haze started to wear off. He cleared his throat, and muttered that he still had work to do. She nodded but they kept staring at each other, his hands on her waist and hers drifting down from his neck to his chest.

She was the first to step away. He watched her disappear through the door and wondered how he had managed to make such a mess of his life.

For the entirety of the next week he couldn’t get that muffled whimper out of his head.

Every time he saw her he wanted to drag her into him and kiss her again, harsher, hungrier, with his hands tracing over every inch of her body. 

He told himself he was being stupid and he just needed an outlet. For the most part, he and Alys doing well together, but on the few occasions they actually fucked he found the novelty of being beneath her was starting to wear off. 

Frustratingly, everything else seemed to be working well for him. He was good at his job; working for Rivers PR was certainly helping to distract him from his family and the company was thriving. He didn’t have to put up with his parents and the Rivers girls seemed happy enough to have him around. The only problem left was him.

In June Alys was accompanying a client on a trip to Dorne, a few days in Salt Shore, Lemonwood and then a week in Sunspear. Aemond wasn’t sure if he was elated or dreading her absence. Every time he’d been around her lately he held his breath, waiting for her to realise something was wrong.

She remained perfectly normal though. Her exams were finished and she had an internship at Lion Publishing lined up for the month of August. In the meantime she was living life as she pleased, lunch dates and picnics in the park with her friends, but she spent a lot of time at home too, mostly reading or writing in a leatherbound notebook.

The kiss was a mistake. A stupid mistake. He kept looking for a chance to talk to her, but decided it might be best until Alys was away.

Alys’ flight was due on a Friday evening and he dropped her off in the afternoon. They sat in silence for most of the journey but silence wasn’t a rarity for them.

When they reached the airport they both went to take the bags out the boot.

“I’m a big girl, I can manage,” she said dryly, but that was just her sense of humour. 

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.

She set her suitcase by her side and slipped her arm through her Prada tote bag. “The two of you can look after yourselves well enough,” she said, fussing with the collar of her blouse. “I don’t need to tell you not to answer the door to strangers or anything?”

He smiled unenthusiastically. “No.”

With her eyes one the pavement, she brought her fingers to the styled waves of her hair, bringing a few tresses over her shoulder.

“She’s fond of you,” she said. “I know I can’t always be there for her when she needs me, but I know you helped her with that exam and I appreciate it.” There was no sign of shortness or irritation like there usually was when she spoke about anything remotely personal. She was being sincere and it just made him feel worse.

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and the businesswoman was back. “Right then. I’d give you a kiss goodbye but I have lipstick on.”

How devastatingly practical, as always. She threw an arm around his shoulder and he pecked her cheek before she headed for the terminal, quickly and gracefully, heels clicking against the ground. 

He had plans to meet Helaena for dinner at a restaurant in central. With her mother out the way, she had invited a few friends to celebrate the end of exams and he figured she’d appreciate the space.

He didn’t realise how much he missed not living with his sister until he saw her. That was the downside of the new circumstances, he never got to see his siblings as much as he wanted to.

Helaena asked him about Alys and her, how they were dealing with Harwin still in the hospital. He told her the truth, they didn’t really talk about it much, but by that point it was a matter of waiting for the inevitable.

Apparently Rhaenyra was a mess. She would be. Her husband was dying, she had three kids to look after and Harrenhal PR was falling to pieces now that Larys was in charge and Alys had poached half of their best clients.

Helaena was exhausted. She was getting ready to start a PhD in Highgarden and she should have been excited, but she hardly had the wherewithal to think about it with Alicent and Viserys’ constant rowing. At least Daeron would be back in a few more days so she wouldn’t be the only child at the house.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone this year?” she asked.

He took a telling breath through his nose and finished off his glass of wine.

“Aemond, please, it won’t be the same without you.”

He scoffed. “No one wants me there.”

She frowned at him with those sad blue eyes of hers. “Don’t say that.”

“Did you know mum hasn’t called me once since I left? It’s been five months. Do you really think I can just show up and we’ll play happy families then go back to hating each other when we get home?”

Her face twisted like she might start crying. 

“Sorry I just–” he held his forehead in his hands and dragged them back over his hair. He didn’t want to think about Dragonstone, it just made him think of her.

He felt her hand gently take his wrist and guide it down to the table so she could see his face. 

“What’s up with you?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

She raised her eyebrows and hummed like she didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t long after 10pm when he got back to the house. He heard voices and giggles in the front lounge. He walked softly through the hallway and slowed when he came to the door.

“... that’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Jo, you’re sick.”

“Oh step-daddy!”

Laughter followed, with a few disbelieving sighs. He recognised her laugh, and made out two other distinct voices. He guessed they hadn’t heard him come in.

“Is he hot though?”

He listened for a reply but she stayed quiet.

“Oh come on! I bet you’ve thought about it.”

“No.” She said it so simply he almost believed her. 

He moved through to the kitchen intending to get some water. There were two empty pizza boxes and an assortment of empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. He went to clean them up when the door opened.

“Hi,” she said softly. Her face was dewy and a little flushed. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“I only just got in,” he said, “don’t worry I didn’t hear anything incriminating.”

She tilted her head at him with a slightly dazed smile. She looked gorgeous and the pair of jeans she wore fit her perfectly. 

She refilled the glasses from a new bottle and nodded to an empty glass on the counter. “Do you want to join us?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” she said.

He followed her through to the lounge, bringing the glass and the bottle with him. 

Before he opened the door she leaned into him and whispered, “don’t worry, Margarey has work tomorrow and Jo’s waiting for her boyfriend so they won’t stay long.”

Margaery and Joanna were effortlessly charming but he distrusted them for being law students. They both grinned when he sat on the sofa by the window and were eager to ask him about his time in Oldtown and his job.

Joanna kept glancing over to her, but she remained unphased until Margarey mentioned Targ Corp. Her face slowly fell in irritation. He found it quite endearing.

“So why did you leave?” Joanna asked, “it was something to do with Viserys’ will, right?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?” she said shortly.

Aemond gave her a quick smile to let her know it was alright and she settled back to contentment.  

Just as she said, they were both gone before midnight. She saw them to the door and when she came back to the lounge she fell beside him with her legs against his and her head on his shoulder.

“Did you have a nice evening?” he asked. If he turned his head just a little further his lips would brush against her temple.

“Really lovely,” she sighed.

He considered asking about the kiss, but she was definitely tipsy and just sitting with her was too peaceful. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the moment and the sound of her breathing. 

Her fingers began to trace up over the fabric of his shirt, up and down over his stomach and the lines of his abs underneath.

He put his hand over hers to stop her, but somehow it only seemed to spur his own want. He closed his hand around her, tracing his thumb over her knuckles.

She shifted her head so she was looking at him and her breath echoed over his neck. 

She leaned in first. Their lips met with gentle grazes, just feeling each other and breathing the same air. 

Gradually they deepened their movements. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he melted at her softness and her warmth. He cupped her jaw to pull her into him despite the gnawing feeling in his chest, like he was getting too close, like he could never get close enough.

She started to move and he tried to keep hold of her, expecting her to slip from his grasp, until he felt her weight on his lap. She straddled him, wrapping her hands around the sides of his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. She gave him another dazed little smile before she continued to kiss him fiercely, desperately.

It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea, but for now he would take the guilt if he got to feel her like this, her lips trailing along his jaw and down his neck, her heavy breaths and whimpers as she started to rock her hips against him.

He reached to take hold of her hips, moving with her at first before he set a new, steadier pace, dragging her against the tightening bulge in his jeans. “You alright there, pet?” he hummed.

She nudged her forehead against his. “Please can you just…” her eyes followed her hands as she propped herself against his chest. 

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered.

She let out a whine that went straight to his cock.

“Come on,” he hissed, “talk to me.”

She clenched her fists to tug at his shirt. “I want you,” she breathed.

He strained an exhale as he tried to stop his hips from bucking into her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said with a groan, but he was already trying to rationalise it.

She could be the outlet, just once, just to get it out of his system. 

“No it’s not, but I still want you,” she said.

Or maybe it didn’t have to be about him. He could just give her what she needed.

“Please,” she whined trying to fight against his hold on her hips, “I want you so bad, it fucking hurts.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he cooed, moving his face down to tease the skin of her throat with his lips and tongue. 

He knew they were on the cusp of something dangerous and damning, but it was her, the girl from that summer, the girl with the pretty smile and the curious look in her eyes, Alys’ daughter. 

When he looked up to her face her eyes were wide and pleading.

Maybe he felt he owed it to a younger version of himself, or maybe it was the wine he’d had at the restaurant but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences. 

He pressed his palm against her stomach, feeling her body tremble and her quick, shallow breaths. He trailed lower to undo the buttons on her jeans. “Take these off for me,” he muttered.

She didn’t hesitate to follow his instruction. She drew the jeans down her legs, leaving her in her top and a black thong. He told her to straddle him again, which she did. 

With firm but gentle hands he felt along the bare flesh of her thighs and her ass, positioning her over his thigh. He pulled the thong against her until she was squirming and trying to rut against his jeans.

He chuckled softly to himself and held her waist tightly to keep her still, and she followed the silent instruction so well. She was panting, leaning in closer to him, but waiting for his lead. He was slightly scared of how much he loved it.

He brought his hand to her cheek, stroking and toying with her bottom lip. “Do you want to be good for me?” he whispered.

She hummed her agreement. 

“Fuck yourself against my thigh, pretty girl, show me how desperate you are.”

With a small nod she started to move, letting out little moans when her clothed clit rolled against his leg.

He kept her movements slow, even when she tried to fight against him and go faster.

“No,” he said, “be a good girl for me, do as you’re told.”

The pace was agonising for her, eyes screwed shut and jaw hung open as her hands got restless, running over his jaw, his neck and into his hair.

He kept her steady and pressed her down against his jeans with each drag of her hips, playing with the change in pressure and smiling at the way it made her whine and her eyes water.

“Aemond… I need more…”

He still kept the movements nice and slow. “Just let it happen– there you go, good fucking girl.”

She didn’t hold back her moans as her climax hit her, tensing hard and falling into him. He kept her moving through it, until her thighs were shaking and she begged him to stop.

He was sure he’d never been so hard in his life, but he held her there, breathing in the smell of her hair and her perfume.

Then he brought her away from him so he could see her face, beautifully blissed out. There was that light, hopeful feeling in his chest, but it was starting to crumble under the realisation of what they’d done.

“Is that actually a thing, the step-daddy thing?” he asked.

She huffed a breathy laugh. “According to Jo it is. Why, do you want me to call you daddy?”

He wouldn’t admit it then, but he liked the way it sounded coming from her.

General Taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick

[buyukvalidesultan]

What I would do if I was Alicent Hightower in HotD

Prepare Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron for the throne by making sure they’re all well educated. Since the Lords weren’t sworn to fealty to Helaena like Viserys did with Rhaenyra her claim would mean very little.

Marry Helaena off to the Lord of House Tyrell to get their support.

Marry Daeron off to Lady Jeyne Arryn and put together a household of servants loyal to me to be sent with Daeron to the Vale and receive reports in case her loyalty begins to waver.

Encourage Daeron to lie with her until she was pregnant and had a baby, then assassinate her and have Daeron made Regent until the little grandbaby came of age and supports the rule of Aegon.

Allow rumors of Rhaenyra’s children to grow.

Continue the strange relationship with Larys and keep him on my side and have him help in my assassinations.

During Laena’s funeral I’d speak with Corlys about wedding Baela to Aegon. If he doesn’t accept, I’d have Viserys speak to him about it, then consult with Rhaenys.

Have Larys help in killing Laenor and conspire to make it obvious that it was Daemon and Rhaenyra. Then suggest again to Rhaenys while she’s vulnerable from her child’s death to accept having Baela wed Aegon.

When Aemond loses his eye I’d prepare to leave Driftmark with my children and Baela but not before having a servant sneak poison into Daemon’s food.

When Rhaenyra leaves for Dragonstone I’ll take advantage of her absence and start slowly allowing Viserys to get sicker.

In her absence, I’d start a secret personal treasury and take bribes and give favors to lords in the court to gain their support.

Meet with Mysaria under the pretense of stopping the secret fights, once we meet I’ll have her killed.

Have a lavish wedding for Baela and Aegon.

Invite all of Lord Borros’ daughters to the wedding and let Aemond mingle with them before asking him to choose one as a bride.

Have a nice talk with the greedy sons of lords I had yet to convince to join in supporting Aegon’s succession. I’d conspire with them and help in their ascension to their father’s seats.

A few days before the wedding I’d have all of Aegon’s servants replaced with eunuchs.

Put poison in Viserys’ milk of the poppy and have his body guarded by loyal servants. Then have any Lords whom I don’t know that are explicitly loyal to my children and I thrown in the dungeon.

I’ll also have the Kingsguard replaced with people loyal to Aegon. I’d also have multiple poison tasters put in Aegon and all of my children’s service.

During the wedding I’d send a letter to Dragonstone questioning Luke’s succession to Driftmark and have Rhaenyra come to King’s Landing.

While they’re traveling, I’d hold a private ceremony naming Aegon king in front of the Lords of Westeros. Then immediately have a public coronation as well.

To keep Aegon in check I’d buy the most beautiful women from Lys and have them keep him well pleasured, though I’d also encourage him to bed Baela in order to produce at least a single male heir though it wouldn’t be much of an issue since Aemond and Daeron are alive.

When Rhaenyra and her sons arrive I’d have Criston take one of Lucerys’ eyes and have it neatly put in an ornate jeweled sapphire box and presented to Aemond.

Rhaenyra and her sons would then live out their days peacefully on Dragonstone but heavily guarded. I’d have Jace married to a woman of House Hightower. Lucerys would be married to a woman of House Lannister and Joffrey would be a ward in King’s Landing.

After that I’d prepare a wedding for Aemond and whichever one of Lord Borros’ daughters he chose.

When the wedding is over I’d have Daeron dispatched with Tessarion to Winterfell and have Cregon’s son, Rickon, taken to the Vale and raised as a ward there.

Have dinner with Larys with his food secretly poisoned now that he outlived his use.

When all the tireless scheming is over with I’d spoil the grandkids and then die.

Should I make one for if I were Rhaenyra? Or other characters.

I made this purely for fun, I didn’t really put much logic into it.

[swftpoet]

THE CURSED DRAGON CHP 1.

warnings: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I apologize for any errors that appear in grammar or writing. + violence typical of the canon

WC: 889

❝𝐌𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐬, 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬❞

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐇𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬

prologue

She looked a lot like her mother.

It was the first thing King Viserys said upon seeing the baby his eldest daughter had brought into the world on the sixth day of the eighth moon in the year 112 AD. That comparison was always the first thing Alysanne heard, and even though she loved and admired her mother excessively, at the age of 12 that comparison became excessive and caused her anger; So when her mother and brothers flew to Dragonstone away from Alicent's lies, the eldest princess remained for another year in Kingsland. Alicent tried to seduce the princess with sweet promises and poison her against her family, but the young Targaryen was very clever and soon moved away from the queen consort, maintaining a good relationship only with her aunt, Helaena, which many did not understand, after all if If they saw them they would see nothing more than two girls embroidering or reading, their silent relationship was a mystery, but it ensured that Alicent had no reason to push the two away. That year, Viserys promised her a beautiful crown and a great husband, the mention of the jewel made the princess's eyes, large orbs with the most violet irises in the seven kingdoms, shine but, the mention of a husband had made her grimace. in disgust. Whether or not it was her desire, from that year onwards every man who expressed a desire to marry Alysanne perished, which, fermented by Alicent, was called 'the curse of the little dragon'.

In Dragonstone, things became familiar, there were many Targaryens and dragons on the island and this made the children there become fearless, but none came close to Alysanne, she was the one who flew to Driftmark and discovered that the lady Laena was in labor, taking the opposite route to bring the news to her mother and father; Ser Leanor arrived at his home headquarters first but was unable to see his sister's situation; Rhaenyra flew away a few hours later, leaving her eldest daughter and eldest son Jacaerys in charge of the castle. It was the first glimpse of real power in the girl's hands, and it filled her ego. It was also on this occasion that Alysanne chose her champion, her most faithful guard, Harren Strong, the third son of the Strong house, who before being sent to the Citadel, became a knight of the white cloak, very similar to his older brother, Sor. Harwin who had been the captain of the gold cloaks.

When Rhaenyra learned of her stepmother's venomous words against her daughter, she ordered the princess to go to Dragonstone, not a mother's request, but the order of the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and so Alysanne did, but not before return Alicent's lies with glory.

The tongue of one of the queen's maids was sent to her at her breakfast, at the same time that Vermithor and Alysanne were flying to dragonstone, the maid whose tongue had been ripped out was never found, no one ever looked into the intestines of the great dragon. bronze that Alysanne had bravely claimed at the age of six; Alicent remained silent for a while, she would never admit that she was afraid of what the girl could do to her, but she had understood the message.

The days that passed after Rhaenyra and Laenor's departure were enough to make many nobles believe that Jacaerys and Alysanne would marry and rule the seven kingdoms in union, which caused a certain relief, none would dare say, but there was a certain fear among The nobles in Rhaenyra named their daughter as heir, at thirteen she had already proven herself brutal, and even if Viserys turned a blind eye, it could not be denied that her blood burned like dragonfire. Often being cited as someone incapable of making rational decisions.

That's what they said, however, regardless of Rhaenyra's choice about her succession, her three eldest sons were taking classes that prepared them to take over the kingdom. That made Alicent angry; how audacious the princess was being in placing "those wild children" as pretenders to the throne.

Despite all the disagreements between Rhaenyra and Alicent, Alicent and Alysanne, Helaena and Aly's friendship remained strong, they would meet sometimes and fly over Blackwater Bay, or on the beaches of Driftmark, not even Alicent's daughter would leave a stone behind. of the dragon, not even Rhaenyra's daughter went to King's Landing anymore, even though it took her away from her beloved grandfather, King Viserys, when his illness worsened, Alysanne begged her mother to let her visit him, but Rhaenyra went irreducible, forbidding his daughter for fear of the Greens' plots; especially given the king's fragile health, knowing that his daughter would be exposed to a very great risk and without adequate protection, even if she took her most faithful squire and protector.

[nrilliree]

Hi. If you had to pick, what would you say is the worst change they made from F&B for HOTD? And is there any change they made in the show that you like? There are a lot of changes I didn't like, like the ages being jumbled and the complete personality changes of some characters, but I personally really like that they made Aegon the Conqueror a dragon dreamer who saw the Long Night and how they worked in the PTWP and "the Song of Ice and Fire" as his his dream. I'm just interested in what you think

I don't think I'll be able to pick just one thing. So I'll make a list, but number one can be considered the most important :P

What changes do I like? 1) As you say, I like the addition of Aegon's prophecy. This doesn't change much about the Dance itself, but it shows that Aegon was not an evil colonizer who conquered the kingdom for power, but that there was something bigger than him or his family behind it. It's just a pity that we know the ending of GoT :( 2) The fact that Rhaenyra was the one who retrieved the egg from Daemon. This showed that she (unlike Otto) was able to solve the case bloodlessly. 3) A small change, but Daemon didn't declare himself King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, he was declared so. 4) Showing Laenor fighting on the Stepstones. This added some depth to him.

What changes do I not like? 1) What they did to Laena. Where's the portrayal of her as a badass getting bond with Vhagar? Where's the friendship with Rhaenyra? Where is the fact that it was HER decision to have her daughters betrothed to Rhaenyra's sons? Where are her frequent visits to Driftmark? Where is Laena?! 2) Making Alicent and Aemond victims. Why victimize bullies? Aemond didn't have to have a "sad childhood" to become a psychopath. 3) WHERE ARE RHAENYRA'S BEAUTIFUL CLOTHES AND JEWELRY?! 4) Where were the crowds screaming at Aegon's coronation that they wanted their queen?! 5) Making Viserys such a bad father. In the book, he did not ignore his children, and Helaena and his grandchildren visited him every evening. He had relationships with his children. 6) Changing the background of Viserys and Daemon's conflict. In the book, Mysaria really was pregnant and Daemon wanted to have the child, even if it was a bastard, and because of Viserys she lost the pregnancy. In the series, Daemon came up with this to spite his brother…? 6) Why were Baela and Rhaena reduced to just looking pretty in the background? And I could write and write here…

[noeverse]

- evelyne & rosyn westerling - according to several contemporaries of the time...

both renowned beauties, with auburn hair and captivating brown eyes, rosy cheeks that was matched with a lovely disposition and a great sense of humour, evelyne was chosen by princess rhaenys targaryen to accompany her daughter laena, and sweet, shy rosyn was chosen by queen alicent to be a companion to the then princess helaena, to whom she became rather attached. both sisters corresponded often, and being companions to targaryen royalty put them in the marriage market. evelyne was proposed by rodrik mormont, but declined because of his wandering eye. instead, she asked the princess to let lady laena decide her marital fate. laena, feeling attached to her ladyship, married her to a rich merchant whom she didn't seem much, for when prince daemon was away, it was evelyne who tended to laena. some swore their relationship was far more romantic than many estimate, and it wouldn't be visited until later. many say that evelyne's three children were fathered by her husband, rickard fell, rather than prince daemon, who seemed to join lady laena and lady westerling in their liaisons.

back at king's landing, helaena and rosyn were close, so close it made the lord hand suspicious, but sadly, her sweet and cheerful disposition had her eating by the queen's hand, who, in gratitude, offered her in marriage to her third son, daeron, who seemed content with the marriage. they never loved one another, but seemed friendly enough to conceive a daughter, alysanne. it was overheard by a drunken aegon that sweet, tart rosyn knew the innerworkings of his wife's bed better than him, and that it was not a secret amongst the staff of the castle. the lord hand shut down such rumours and berated aegon, pointing how impossible it was for women to feel sexual attraction to one another.

then, tragedy struck. lucerys velaryon was killed by aemond targaryen, and king viserys died. daeron kissed his wife goodbye and flew to war, while rosyn stayed by healena's side.

queen alicent forbid her from writing, and queen rhaenyra, who, at laena's request, had taken evelyne by her side, told her to forget about rosyn if she wished to keep her position and head. however, it seemed like evelyne could quickly calm down the queen's anger and suspicions the same way she did with lady laena... some, by singing to her. others say they shared a bed as well, and prince daemon was more than happy to share his wife with his bedsheet companion from driftmark. such was the renowed delight towards evelyne, that she awarded her two sons lands and title, and her teenage daughter was betrothed to her son joffrey, and a signature was made that the moment lady nyra fell turned ten and six, she and prince joffrey would marry. in the meantime, she'd be a companion to her sons.

queen alicent, not wanting her most favourite ward to be upstaged, betrothed her granddaughter alysanne to heleana's son maelor. this decision was approved by a delighted helaena and a dejected aegon. but tides would turn during the events of rook's rest...

[horizon-verizon]

Isn’t it kinda weird that people ship daemyra? I'm not targeting daemyra, but the shippers. Though their relationship was acceptable in their era, I see many fans using this as a pretext to actively endorse it, which is problematic. It's one thing to acknowledge the historical and cultural context of a relationship, but it's another thing entirely to romanticize or ship it when we now have the knowledge and understanding that one of the individuals involved is a child.

Need your opinion on this

DISCLAIMER: I am a Daemyra shipper. Read with caution.

You're essentially asking why it isn't a dealbreaker? You could refer to my post HERE, but here it is in short:

Perhaps I'm going to be flowery, exhaustive, and "purple prosey" again, but I think it is basically that that very context creating the exploration of a tragedy of forces stronger than oneself. People love tragic tales, esp doomed ones. It's almost always validating in that there is a persistence of self against outside pressures that may or may not (but usually does) have said pressures be compulsions to conform against one's own happiness or authenticity, even and sometimes especially when the couple dies at the end. That in of itself is a sort of "resistance" that's supposed to coincide with GRRM's whole thing of "choosing life in spite of death" or "we found love in a hopeless place" sort of thing in ASoIaF, but for royals and in a royal iteration.

Rhaenyra's story is a doomed one not because she was the entire cause of the Dance pr some evil temptress but bc the historical actions of her ancestors and the feudal-patriarchal system they all live under has already set up designs against women and those the women could use to occupy the positions granted to men. GRRM loves his tragic tales of love; look at Rhaelya! But they also tend to--long way forward--lead to strains of hope in later generations...which works to make the whole thing even more bitter sweet and melancholy. They also both buy into it of course, which certainly contributed, but from the jump we know these two will not succeed. So from there it's a thing of enjoying the couple as they are and what they serve in the narrative. Oh, and of course the true star is Dany, and Rhaenyra had to die for Dany's story to be what it was (death of the dragons, women subjugated, Targs losing their sense of self leading to the Rebellion).

When there is no or mostly and actively morally upright party like a Daenerys, humans will root for the most impressive, thrilling, or aesthetically beautiful story/characters/relationships that scratches that itch some. You can certainly whack GRRM for creating so many ships that are this too-taboo thing(s), but people are very prone to misleading some things about people-as-people that I think (even with the historical inaccuracies GRRM defends as "accurate" about ages when noble people married) the writer does convincingly capture between this "conversation" in his work about the relationship between environment and choice. At least for enough people that there is something to how he's doing it.

And then, yes, sometimes people will over-romanticize, and much more than I think you're imagining it, anon. I've read some fics...let's say that sometimes people feel the need to dramatically change the characters that always puts me off bec it erases what was fun about them in the first place.

Here it is written in another way:

A)

The draw of Daemyra for a lot of people is that CONSIDERING THE CIRCUMSTANCES AND EVEN DESPITE/BECAUSE OF THEM, they had one of the most the strongest bonds for the longest time (and yes, even with Daemon loving Laena) in the orig story and they matched each others' drive/fire/pride (the last in all its meanings). They seem (operative word here) to understand each other the most, were the most comfortable with each other, and were the others' biggest support.

Again, it's not exactly the incest but what the incest/age gap (IN THE CONTEXT GRRM CREATED) does for the bond that comes to be.

Daemon for all intents and purposes could have become a perfect culmination of patriarchal privilege and male pride: one of the best warriors of his time, access to one of the most formidable and impressive creatures through his state of birth, action-oriented but not opposed to using strategy tactics, nearly irresistible to women an attitude and inspiring enough to men both in the story and in the fandom with his charisma, blah blah. And he certainly still had all those things or was written that way.

The kickers are that he's forced to acknowledge his truer desires to support his family towards prosperity and survival--where his loyalty to Rhaenyra comes in--and those desires are so much a priority he basically shuns much else, or at least removes himself from that, and thus he cannot/does not bother to put on much airs or try to gain approval...which is a very common thing amongst nobility who often curry favor or imagine themselves to be "good" people because they follow an honor code. There's a "purity" to that, an shameless honesty that draws people in similar to how some people feel about Oberyn and Jaime. And it especially is very attractive to people who have quite a bit of shame themselves over love and sex (for whatever reason, religious shame, queer shame, female shame for sexuality and desiring a stronger partner even anyway) and are (at first or never) inclined to not to try to ennoble it but are lonely and looking for a story of a strong connection/ride or die. That loyalty to Rhaenyra is a "flaw" that some men in the fandom never forgave GRRM for.

Rhaenyra similarly could have been a typical or ideal princess--either way, people wouldn't have liked her or found something to say was a damning "flaw" to say she deserved her fate-- and in some ways, she was. Loved wearing luxurious things and showing off her beauty, beautiful, fertile. But she's inplacably different from the ideal of Andal patriaechy be

Rhaenyra "replaced" Daemon as heir, yet instead of really planning her downfall and committing to his ire against Viserys (yes after being forced away), he appears accept his subordinate position towards the middle and end of his life, even before they marry and fully commitsd to her without losing his own...je-ne-sais-quoi. Despite her loneliness and the surrounding doubt around her for being a female heir, Rhaenyra never seemed to seriously lose her belief in her right to occupy that sort of space and never demurred like some other female characters we (pre-the rise of YA fiction and the Capable+Alluring MC Girl/Woman) were familiar with WHILE not being that kind or good a person (the trope of a Steel-Under-Silk strong, Lady usually has the Lady be good or kind of selfless, sometimes to the point of self effacement). Both had a sort of belief in themselves to a degree and under contexts that put off both readers and their own contemporaries--for different reasons...sometimes the same ones. that sort of symmetry is very appealing BECAUSE OF AND UNDER THE CONTEXT of a world and system (unequally, but the closest it's gotten and could get).

B)

The argument of "for the time/environment", I think, is for use of when we have people claim that some characters like Ceryse Hightower, Larra Rogare, Daemon, Viserys I are pedophiles...when we have Robert Baratheon, Craster, Walder Frey, etc. right there. that they go out of their way to mess up children or teens bec they are genuinely want them for their teenhood/childhood. The childness (full knowledge of childness) is exactly what they aim for.

Sure, none of these characters do not and cannot have the exact same moral systems or values as real moderns (sometimes Western people) do...because they simply do not have that framework to live on and through. So automatically saying a character is a pedo or a groomer can be hasty and inaccurate.

SOMETIMES (again, Walder, Craster, Robert).

It requires one to think about what a groomer or a pedo really is. Which I've squared down to the person wanting to prey on what is known to them and everyone around them as a "child" or "too young" that is socially excluded from every practice and dynamic of sex and romance that adults are expected to participate with each other, and not with said child (or simply manipulate them away from their security/non-security to do so) because the "child" cannot develop psychologically/physically when said adults interrupt their development and/or make them think is one thing when it is the other. Characters like Daemon, Viserys, etc. do not try to seek out what is recognized as "children" or "childlike" (and the "young maidens" or virgins the text states weirdly juxtaposes the lack of Daemon continuing said behavior into his adulthood, which true groomers/pedos always do). All this is strictly against the idea of him being a "groomer", even though like other men and a few women, he gets into something with 14/15 yr old Rhaenyra...

HOWEVER, it is true that patriarchies tend to apply sex-purity values in ways that inevitably encourage attentions on teens (as these are the closest) AND this ALSO doesn't mean that GRRM wasn't/isn't trying to say that this is still a wrong thing for 111 A.C. Daemon to have done and that it wasn't potentially screwy. (I think this is kinda what also "saves" it for some people, that the narrative acknowledges this particular crazy as crazy).

And just as with Dany and Drogo and the age revealed at her first pregnancy, even with Dany having been a bridal slave to Rhaenyra's princess and thus presenting a more visceral stake the latter doesn't have, determining how one sees Dany's regard for Drogo as blatant victim-mindset. For Daemyra, though, it's still not exactly the same and it's just that there isn't much for a claim, story-wise not life wise, of blatant you-know-what-it's.

There are about 4 main theories as to why Daemon of the bk does what he does with Rhaenyra:

he wanted to get back at Viserys for all the years of his ignorance and the recent event of his shipping Mysaria off only her her to lose what would have been Daemon's first kid (so a denial of person, position, and his own heir/family when he seemed to start trying to make himself after a long series of war in the Stepstones, also trying to make some "glory" for himself that Viserys--for him--keeps preventing or ruining)

he thought that the issues of succession Rhaenyra or even Viserys might have with the burgeoning greens, esp Otto, would be better handled if he forced Viserys to have him and Rhaenyra marry and combine lineages...tag him in, coach, he's been ready and you're not doing the job right, so let me in (ironically, I think this is very Visenya-coded...no one is going to be as competent and dedicated as me...just [ugh] with all the male trappings and privilege that shaped his...all that) -- a burgeoning storm they all had to prepare for, and he has to be there for them to survive -- he sees Rhaenyra at court surrounded by greens and is so offended he's even more determined--some might read "desperate"--to handle things even with such little...grace, shall we say

he was "tailoring" and "preparing" Rhaenyra to become more like the wife/partner that would make him most happy and rationalized that he would pay her back with his "hand" and sword, bc they were the best bet for their house...yeah...

when he got there and saw Rhaenyra in her "marriageable" state, he became attracted to her and similar to Laena and the duel, decided to "risk" the damage to his own rep...without letting himself onvder over the possible damage to Rhaenyra

or, ALL OF THE ABOVE...SOME OF THE ABOVE

Whatever Daemon did with her/to her (sex, kissing, near-sex, groping, etc., we don't know what happened but I think it was either sex or something that looked like it would definitely lead to that), it wasn't based on a habit and intention of straight up p*dophilia. More so him being very selfish, continuing the pattern of Targ men Targ-menning against their female counterparts. Using Rhaenyra against Viserys, putting his foot down, whatever.

Therefore he was still abusing his experience and relation with her, the "child-not-child-who-should-have-been-seen-as-a-child-but-wasn't-bc-society-and-patriarchal-selfishness/advantage". So I don't fault or perfectly disagree with people who say "groomer!" After all, their priority is not allowing other crazy people or out already-male-scorched world in further footholding for nonsense in the real world. Can't call them stupid or morally incorrect for that or being concerned. However, I still think there's a misunderstanding of what's being conveyed by the text versus what such a thing would be in real life (Watsonian vs Doylist) AND we can't stop ourselves form writing or showing even the odd and taboo or genuinely concerning stuff when there's something to be shown/told.

It changed to what it needed to be, became what was its potential, AND Rhaenyra was set to marry someone else (before the confirmation that it was always gonna be Laenor, and she didn't know it was him until last minute) who she would likely never be able to trust because of her position, men, yada yada. Might as well be someone she cared for her entire life and we know would not go out of his way, even shift for someone he thought was "worthy", and whoo-boy, was Rhaenyra "worthy" to Daemon. Again, refer to the doomed narrative.

Now Daemon here is so not exactly a good guy if he:

was willing to use his own about-to-married-off-and-subiect-to-purity-politics-standard-that-could-affect-her-reputation both as a girl/woman-as-a-female-heir niece in this way, even if it was after Viserys basically caused him and Mysaria to lose their first kid and came after years of Viserys basically ignoring Daemon--Daemon's eyes, bk and show--in favor of a man who could never hope to be as loyal as Daemon....IN FACT, THIS PROVES HE WAS NEVER THE "GOOD" GUY (I'm yelling at some fics)

prioritizes "sameness" and it comes off as arrogance--"only people like me can handle all this"...however, he'd be not totally incorrect (just annoying to some, charming to others, a little bit of both and feeding-into-each-other for others-others). He's not only a person who grew up, like both female and male nobles, value having the highest classed and prestigious person as a potential mate even if it may contradict "obedience" and he like others wishes to, he also. Again, the appeal of SYMMETRY. And sameness (albeit, in lesser degrees) does have an importance in how many people define what their ideal partner is. Not have the same hobbies or ways and color of dress, but values. Which Rhaenyra and Daemon have the potential of to the max.

If a potential partner's "worth" to be of a certain category or class...but it's fun to see shamelessness at a point AND such shamelessness works to, again, support said female character bc it's a great pair to loyalty, which Rhaenyra needs a lot of and assurance of from. And, no, I don't think she got enough of that from Harwin for all that she did love him (if they did become lovers...but I know you know they were, come on now). Those two had to hide; Rhaenyra's not a hider, not where it doesn't concern her kids' safety at least.

C)

Ironically those assurances come from the reversed--or at least done a little topsy turvy--familial relations, feudal constraints, AND the reality of Targaryens being both a part of this society but also not really on part because of their dragons/innate magicness but also because they are the ruling family.

They are apart from most people around them and find more things in common between themselves, us against the world (yes, in the bk, too); isolated always--unless you're like Rhaena, Dreamfyre's 1st rider, who could and did find female friends everywhere and discovered more freedom and comfort in them through their woman-ness than anyone in her family...but even then, she was more or less emotionally isolated just by being such a woman and a Targ, and the male stink still manages to encroach its way in through Androw Farman and the love she had for Androw's father/her lover's love for said Androw. and as royals, they are by social definition not in physical proximity, thus not as easier seen as any more than political figures/leaders. I mean, sure, we might say "boo hoo", and we'd not be totally wrong, but there is still an effect of treating people not like people that humans have never been able to rein in, and it's important to how the Targs handled many things and were perceived, thus how they responded--queue Jaehaerys I. When we especially talk about the costs to oneself and to how others treat you under the nonphysical protections of power. Whether for good or ill.

Contrast to Jaehaerys and Alysanne, who, thought GRRM notes as one of the greatest pairs, also end up separated by Alysanne's & Jaehaerys' fights over their children's safety and places in the succession, with the obvious running line of it going back to misogyny for the sake of assimilating/holding power instead of using it for making the said society a little better/a lot better.

Contrast to Daario and Daenerys (yes, yes, why would I compare PoV character's observations of a person vs a history book, we get it), Daemyra/RoguesDelight has Daemon knowing and giving more suggestion of longevity bc it's suggested in the text that he had access to the most intimate stirrings of Rhaenyra's head (final letter at Maidenpool as well as all I said above) in a way Daario never did or wanted to with Dany. Oh, of course Daario knew Dany loved her people, was lonely, was all that and the 3rd; but I trump that up to be his observation of what she needed and wanted so he could indulge in being with such a woman and profit from it. Even though he wasn't exactly terrible or whatever, or impatient. This is far from Dany's fault, tbc. Daario is gonna Daario. But, as one person kind brilliantly explained about Dany being a goddess in Twitter:

Part of her struggles is w being dehumanized as a symbol of power but she constantly subverts that by placing the weight of her responsibility/influence into liberating ppl.

Jaehaerys I sorta sets himself and his later scions, by contrast, even with it having had the desired effect of getting people off his back about sibling incest. So does Aegon I, tbh, when while it left the Targs the ability to adapt to their necessities concerning succession, his and his sons leaving it open to duking-it-out...then Aegon named heir over Rhaena...made way for the first stone against women in their house....those most necessarily it seems (after the Dance).

Anyway, they were pretty solid until Rhaenyra's kids started falling like dominoes and were caught in a deceit.

D)

I remember an ask I got once about Daemon showing Rhaenyra explicit imagery in S1E4, where anon said that him doing so proves he is a groomer in the show, where Rhaenyra is 19 instead of 14-15. And adult but just barely AND a lot of people hold that grooming--nonsexual, too--can happen to people to people as old as 34. Personally, I think that the latter is more general manipulation more than "grooming", but I digress and it doesn't really work for 18-20 year olds and up, who again, are practically teenagers.

But I brought up my misgivings about Daemon wanting to abuse children/children adjacent for its own sake already, and it's less evident in the show where the show makes it a point that he wanted Rhaenyra at most stages of her life (when again, she wouldn't be a child-child to them, scowl at GRRM, not me):

the beach scene in S1E7 with adult Rhaenyra, we all saw them heave for each other

we hear/see nothing of his messing with too-young girls after said marriage...the narrative implies he was likely imagining it as some "perfect" Valyrian bride...who happens to be around the same age as state as his niece (still problematic for all the implications of Rhaenyra's significance to him----both in the nature of sex work affecting women/girls AND we really didn't need to hear of that without proving how old those girls usually were to be so used like this as proxies…this is where I personally would have rolled my sorry self out) -> -> -> the probable immediate recall of Jorah doing similar with Dany OR simply Mysaria's observation of this unconscious/repressed desire/teasing him and show!Daemon never having actually done these things -> -> -> of course this could be due to any number of reasons, like his frustrations with Viserys manifesting in looking for a companion in the closest person possible more than that sort of desire

Mysaria: What troubles you, my Prince? I could bring in another. Perhaps a maiden. I have several. I could even arrange one with silver hair. [pause]

This included language of "could" and "perhaps" and "even" (as if this were a thing that she knows it's out of the ordinary) plus her solicitousness to meet his silence and disappeared enthusiasm indicates that show!Daemon was not in the habit of messing w/very young sex workers as bk!Daemon is rumored and told (A Question of Succession):

"and was said to have an especial fondness for deflowering maidens"

Language is important these types of documents. We're given an entire description of his philandering and the contrast of "he sampled" (definite, final, statement-to-not-be-doubted), but there is room with "was said" for Daemon to not have gone around this particular act of seeking out virgin girls. Like how one would say now "I heard such and such also went pulling people's pants down after Marcus saw him go into a strip club" or "people say that Marsha went to Payless for her prom shoes".

Active ("he sampled") vs passive voice ("he[...]was said") can be pretty important to indicate what def happened vs what people believed and could have happened but was never proven. But what do I know, I'm just a probably too-biased Daemyra shipper (this genuinely was not to be snarky, really, you can take or leave my points).

END

For me, it's more when Rhaenyra & Daemon both get older that they shine and I "approve" or really most enjoy Rouges Delight (bk ship name some have taken to call Daemyra) whatever you want to name and distinguish the couple. (I prefer their younger interations [pre E6, S1] in the show not bc Emma is a bad actor--they re not, they're just underutilized and Rhaenyra is written so...terribly that I can never get as into it...I liked Daemyra when they reconciled in S2, for example, but I hated how they got there and not bc of "the ship is sinking" but bec it genuinely was not written well and depended on diminishing both characters). I'm not, however, out here trying to say that anyone else should love this ship, this couple, this story just as much as I don't really mind people not getting into GRRM's writing.

The 111 A.C. issue, there is a certain odd quality it of being obviously out of line and manipulative...while evidence of being a convergence of long-held tension, a beginning towards an inevitable outcome years down the line. SYMMETRY and good writing. I suspect that part of the appeal for some is that push-pull of the delight of "matching freaks and the moral conflict of "but....he's her uncle and he's 2x her age and/or they probably did things when she was way too young", but that's a whole other thing. It keeps people engaged and is perfectly symptomatic of that quality of medievalesque/historical fiction, sure, but bc humans love to play with taboos in fiction...to a certain point. (Personally, again, it is that later timeline that "saved" Daemon for me, as flawed as that may be.) They can indulge in the curiosity of the play of "what ifs" GRRM writes and the subsequent quandaries safely in fiction without getting openly judged & misunderstood for wanting such stories. Sometimes we "play" too close to the sun, though, I admit.

So unless someone's gone off the deep end trying to say that they wouldn't be bothered by a 15 yr old and her 2x older uncle smooching in real life, or try to deny that Daemon was performing, it really doesn't discomfit me that much in the grander scheme of things to me.

Again, I can't blame HotD for uping Rhaenyra's age AND people for just not jiving or hating the ship just as there are those who cannot ever get into ASoIaF for the incessant (to them, too often unpunished by the narrative) incest even outside of the Targs alone. And I get how this is just not going to be enough or that he later is her strongest supporters is enough for a lot of people. But I do want the air cleared a bit and explain the position from where I'm standing. Could change, but I dunno about that. Perhaps this all too biased a breakdown. I warned ya.

This is all in regards to shipping, of course. 😉 Anyway, watch out, there might be more freaks about you in your everyday life like Daemyra shippers, anon!