#Rhaenrya x Alicent

[lady-ashfade]

Hi could you please do yandere house of dragon x Helena twin and when Luke takes Aemond eye he also accidentally cut reader neck, and when they everyone’s gathered Alicent going crazy, reader faints making everyone extremely worried. Luke felt terrible ?

More Then A Eye

Yan!Various!HOTD Characters x Fem!Reader

Made this were the reader was the only one injured because that makes it more fun, and also might make a part 2 so that will come into play if I make that. Also feel like if it was just the reader it would be more interesting.

Warnings: Blood, gore, knifes, violence, yandere actions, reader being injured, me going slight into-depth on how the reader gets cut. Pretty much the whole thing.

Reader wants the family to all get along while the chaos is going on. She is sweetheart like her sister, but she doesn’t have the sight as her sister does. So she notices most of what’s happening, the other half of her sister.

Reader stops Aemond from getting picked on when she’s near because she has the power to make the boys calm, and the rest of the family at that. So she can get mad and upset so aemond feels at ease when his sister is around. But all the boys long for her affection and love, so they all cling to her.

The funeral is a very sad time for her since she loved Laena and the thought of her cousins losing their mother. Or her uncle losing his wife.

So to the readers surprise when she see aemond and jace have a small moments it brings a warmth to her chest in this dark time. Hoping that this was the gods way to bring her family together, but her hopes soon vanished when night came.

She had heard the others walk through the hallways as she tried to fall asleep, opening her door and their whispering calls. They got her attention and claimed someone stole vhagar so she went with them.

“I think we need to wake up our parents.” But her words were shoot down as they dragged her through the halls and down through the castle.

As soon as she saw the white hair she knew it was aemond and she wished she stayed in bed. The kids started to shout, while aemond replied in a time she never heard before, not shy. But proud and filled with venom.

When the fight broke out and all the reader could do was scream and cry for them to stop, but her body froze up. As soon as aemond grabbed ahold of Luke she ran towards him and grabbed ahold of his arm.

“Please, do not hurt them anymore. We- We can all stop this madness,” she looked around at all of them with tears. “Let us all be family.” Aemond was so caught up in his own wrath he pushed the reader back so she wouldn’t get in his way.

He threw Luke to the ground after calling jace and Luke “Strongs.” Then throwing the younger boy to the ground. Jace pulled out a small knife and the reader gasp as they fought again, but the knife was thrown elsewhere.

She watched as Luke crawled to the knife with a interesting to hurt aemond so her body moved on its own. “Aemond!” Just as she shouted she was cut off with the sound of flesh being cut with his blade and gushing sounds. They watch the horror in front of their eyes go down. Blood rolling down her throat and gasped of failed attempts of air when she fell to the ground with her hands clawing at her own throat.

Luke dropped the knife and steps back in disbelief of what was happening. Aemond caught his sister and laid her down in his arms trying to stop the bleeding. “How could you! I’ll kill you! I’ll feed you to my dragon.” He started to cry as did the others.

“What’s going on here?” The guards shouted as the walked up on the children and soon realized the princess. They took her in their arms and sent for the maester and the king at once. Everyone soon garnered in the hall for what had happened.

Alicent screamed when she first saw her daughter and it was loud that everyone in the castle heard. Running to her daughter with tears in her eyes she started to move her hair out of the way as the maester worker. Viserys screamed at the guards to answer who had done it but he wasn’t expecting his own grandsons. Aemond sat at his mothers side while handing the readers hand. Healana looked at the ground with a sob. She had saw it in a nightmare once’s that felt so real, this exact moment.

The boys stayed back and far away. Luke not even daring to look at the reader knowing he caused her harm and pain. All of them wondering if she would be dead soon. Alicent was so focused she didn’t even pay attention to anything but the reader being life and to keep her that way.

When rhaenrya entered it was hell to pay. Reader had just got done with her stitches while still knocked out cold as her body tried to heal itself. “You,” Alicent screamed and pointed at the princess. “You’re filthy sons did this.” Rhaenrya had not see the reader yet as she looked at her sons. When her eyes looked onto the readers body her eyes went wide and looked back at her sons not believing a word.

“They did this?” She asked around the room as the boys tensioned up. “It’s true, jace brought the knife to the fight and his brother, Luke, did the deed.” Cole spiked with a snare. Luke tugged at his mother’s sleeves, “But I did not mean too. Aemond was going to kill jace! The reader got in the way.” All the children started to scream their own defense as everyone watched.

The king was mad but not at the children but at the guards for not doing their jobs. Saying this would have been avoided if they were watched closely. “She would not want us to fight and surely you all know it.” He turned to look at young Luke in the eyes. “I know you did not mean it boy, things can be forgiven.” Alicent looked at rhaenrya as she smiled softly and pull her sons behind herself and listened to Viserys plead of forgiveness and family.

“He deserves no forgiveness,” Alicent stood up and let go of your hand. “The knife was brought to the fight and one of our children could have been killed- Y/n almost died, or might not make it.” She inched closer with a glare and her hands made up into a fist. “Our little girls life being stolen can be..Forgiven?”

“It is what’s right! I love her with my heart but it has been decided, no more blood needs to be shed. Do not let your hatred blind you Alicent.” She stared at him as he spoke so calmly and started to walk away. Her eyes went to the dagger on his hip and her mind filled with red to see her daughter avenged. Moving quickly she took the blade from his side and held it up going for Luke.

“If you will not see to justice then I shall.” Rhaenrya pushes her sons back and caught Alicent before she got closer. They held each other, pushing and pulling to get what they wanted. “Another insult to my family and you get away with it? Just under falling under that pretty foot. It is not far, where is duty? Where is sacrifice?” Rhaenrya looked at the blade as it reflected off the fire light.

She was about to say something but a loud metal sound caught them off guard. They both looked back as the reader laid on the floor with her eyes open and reached out for them. Her head shaking as she tried to speak out but nothing was coming out. Aemond coming to her aid and helping her up but she had used her the rest of her strength to get out of the chair. Reader looked at her brother for help to help and speak her mind, pleading to do the right thing.

“No more blood shed mother.” His spoke but his eyes do not match his words. “She does not wish it.” Helaena came rushing down to her twins side and held her hand. Alicent looked back at rhaenrya one last time before pulling away and dropping the knife. Slowly inching back she looked around at her husband, only with anger and devastation.

Everyone was quiet as she ordered someone to carry her daughter out of the room with the maester. The kids walked with her and held onto their sisters hand as she fell back into a deep sleep. No one could speak a word as they all stood stocked.

For years that was the last time rhaenrya and her kids saw their aunt, along with Daemon. But letters where sent in private from the reader to all of them with updates and her forgiveness. But luke refuses to open and read them as his guilt rotted away at his soul. But each week for years new letters still came from her. The next time they all saw eachother, they all grown so much. But they all remembered the first acted of war.

One side trying to make amends and the other full of revenge.

[slaughter-kin]

just realized i have not made one of these since season 2 has aired

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

RHAENICENT 1.07 | 2.03

their love language is: knives.

[sideysvault]

‧˚ʚ Unwavering commitment ɞ˚‧

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 1847k

Warnings: [sfw] mature themes & slight canon divergence.

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Rhaenyra had always kept you by her side. From the suffocating walls of the Red Keep to the isolated Dragonstone, and to wherever the vying for the Iron Throne took her: You were right next to her. A fanciful promise made in childhood had turned into an everlasting oath the two of you kept close to your heart.

However, to the untrained eye the relationship between the pair would look like nothing more than a servile friend orbiting around the all encompassing presence of the Queen. But there had always been something unspoken lingering underneath the surface. And anyone with some tact and who paid attention enough could see it.

It had all started innocently enough. As a young girl, you naturally admired the Realm’s Delight. Everyone could see the strong values and sensibilities in her that are often found to be lacking in other members of the Royal Dynasty.

As a childish friendship between the two emerged, so did the excitement before any interaction, the sensation of flusteredness whenever the two of you would touch. Your heart saw no difference between a sweet, intimate embrace or the slightest brush of hands while walking down the garden. Anything was enough to ignite agitation, and the eagerness that you felt to serve and protect the Princess transformed into something more personal, more intimate. All these feelings were brushed off as merely inocuos admiration for a girl who was brave enough to live outside the bounds that were forced upon her, a girl charming (And powerful) enough to get away with it.

Everything culminated when you gifted her a pin with your family's badge, not only symbolizing the unwavering devotion you had in her as your queen and confidant, but as family as well. Even still, you tried to spare no thought about it. It really did not matter if you were in love with the Realm’s Delight or not. Either way, the result was the same: A tight bond that would keep the two of you together no matter how grim the circumstances. A kind friendship based on respect and honesty. That was all that really mattered.

⋆

Life in Dragonstone transcurred in a simple routine. The volcanic island had a certain air to it: It was filled with tradition and legacy, which would occasionally become a painful reminder of the impossible path that Rhaenyra was thrown into, dragging you in it as well.

Still, on certain lights, when the bay is calm and the wind blows strong, the intimidating presence of old Valyria can transform into a beautiful sense of hope and possibility. Maybe not everything was lost, and perhaps there could be a future for the family that you held so dearly to your heart.

While your blood was of noble descent, power and influence had never been curses inflicted by the Gods on your family. You had taken the pursuit of knowledge as your calling. Remaining determined on learning, your closeness with the Royal Family had allowed you to remain a maiden, occasionally acting as a personal advisor to the them, advocating for the righteous path when needed.

There had been transient moments where you would almost feel certain that Rhaenyra might feel the same way you did. Especially when the youth’s intrepidness still ran through your veins. Drunken admissions, reading together in the forest, the way her eyes would trail down on your body and how her smile always seemed softer when it was directed towards you. But as the years passed, the men did too. Even Alicent, to some extent. You’d finally accepted that the Gods would never gift you with even the smallest brush of lips, or any undeviating affection. And so, you stayed by the family's side, lovingly taking care of her sons, and balancing time between your studying and long conversations with your Princess.

When the devastating war for succession began, you never left Rhaenyra’s side. No matter how seemingly insignificant your loyalty was to her during these trying times. The strong feeling of devotion never left the two of you, but the Queen had less and less time to spend by your side, filled with sorrow and duty. Those years of unspoken thoughts and undefined roles began to weigh over the two of you.

But following Daemon’s silent departure, the routine in Dragonstone shifted.

The Queen would often find herself on the balcony of her private chamber, observing the landscape that the coastal body of Blackwater provided. She figured that the mild wet air and the periodic disturbance of the water was as good as any stimulant for thought and contemplation.

On the other hand, your favorite pastime was observing Rhaynera’s dragon-like features twitch and turn in synchronization with her thoughts. The Queen was a sight to behold. With the wind blowing tiny silver hairs that had managed to escape the tight grip of her braids, her light blue eyes, ever calculating. And her painfully firm side profile that left no room for speculation.

You were a central piece in the dance of the family again. Commonality now consisted of long conversations at night, mornings filled with you lovingly braiding her hair, afternoons occupied with advising Jacaerys in whatever new feat he felt like pursuing that day. You loved that boy as if he was your own. You had loved him as a vivacious happy child, as a defying teenager, and now, as an unhappy young adult.

For a little while, you tried to mediate between the boy and his mother, but he’d never listen.nHe was a youthful man eager to help and prove himself. A dangerous combination for mindfulness. He wasn’t receptive to what he considered cowardly advice from frightened officials. You had promised him he’d have his vengeance against the Targaryen demon. After what he did to Lucerys, you’d hang his dismembered head by its silver hair yourself. But nothing could make the boy understand that before that could happen, you all had to play the game first. So you would just accompany him, give him reassurance when needed and restraint when necessary. Just as you always did with his mother. In somber days, all they both needed was someone to be truthfully kind to them. To bring some sense of normalcy and wisdom to the situation.

But offering companionship and practical support was a full time role. Even if you held no formal position in the dynasty’s structure, Deamon had unknowingly left a vacancy open. The one of The Queen’s Consort. Providing wifely duties was too much to bear, no matter how much you loved it. You had never been this close to the thing you desired the most. Being on the sidelines was much less sickening than yearning and having a taste of a precious thing that would never become.

⋆

A strangely harmonious night, Rhaenyria had asked you to come to her private chambers. By her bed layed a beautifully crafted black gown. With all the old traditional Targaryen features except for one key detail: The embroidery that was reminiscent of dragon scales was made in your favorite color.

You softly caressed the embroidery, afraid that it would crumble under your touch. You furrowed your eyebrows as you softly asked “Nyra, what is this?” Your friend gave you an enthusiastic smile as she said “You must try it on”. Happiness was not a look you had the privilege to see on her face, so you obliged.

As you undressed, the cold wind made your skin burn with anticipation. Or perhaps it was the presence of your friend that even while facing the wall you could still catch her occasionally glancing at your body through the mirror. It felt dangerous, and you weren’t sure where this was going. But one thing was for certain: If every tissue on your skin came alive with a simple glance from her, it would be the end of you if she’d ever touch your unadorned flesh. Maybe the Gods were being merciful, after all.

You stand in front of the mirror next to her, as you turn to get help with tying up the back of the gown, With a deep look on her eyes as she helps you get it fully on. You were trying to concentrate in holding your breath in, in a futile effort to get a hold of your heartbeat. You weren’t born of ash and dragon blood. You weren’t cut for games like this.

The queen was standing behind you, observing you through the honest lense of the mirror. Feeling the warm breath on your neck felt like Paradise. Until you saw the image reflected in the mirror: A scene that could only be interpreted as a loving couple. Rhaenyra seemed to be in a sort of trance; with a proud smile on her face as she ran her hands through your body's silhouette. The fabric hugged your body perfectly. Just as you were starting to feel accustomed to her touch around your waist, she grabbed something in her left pocket, and a small worn out metal object appeared. It was the pin with your family’s badge. She’d kept it all this time. Even in war, even in famine. She lovingly pinned it on your new gown and grabbed your left hand to place a soft kiss on its palm. Wearing a customized Targaryen dress was one thing, but adding your house to the mix was making you feel overwhelmed with a mix of confusion and hope.

You were dangerously close. The mirror reflected a royal pairing, and in typical Targaryen extravagance, a royal pairing that could afford to be truly in love. The image reflected a softness only reserved for our dearest. You sighed and pulled away from her embrace. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears began to run through your face instinctively, embarrassed and angry, you pleaded “Don’t be cruel, I beg of you.” Nyra looked hurt, but she immediately took you in her arms, trying to apeace you, but you just covered your face with your hands. The Queen, however, quickly pried them off, she was looking at you in a way you couldn’t decipher. Concern was present, but there was something else. You suddenly feel the way her breathing changes as she leans down to your face. She pushed you against the wall as she kissed you. It was heated and frantic. Filled with the powerful relieve of years of buried desire. There was no return to the suppressed modesty anymore. Your breath became irregular and your stomach turned in excitement as you explored each other.

Whenyour palms reached to cup her face, your skin came in contact with the warm tears running through her face. It was real. You could feel the warmth in Rhaenyra’s body as she intertwined her fingers with yours.

It was in her private chambers on that cold night where she filled your body with tender chaste kisses as she whispered “Always” while humming your name again, and again against your buzzing skin.

“I love you”.

Nyra had said it like an oath.

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Notes: This is my first wlw writing, I’m so nervous and excited. This fic is very dear to my heart. I’ve been with girls before but I feel like I can finally be open about it! Please everyone take care of yourselves and take care of each other! Feedback is appreciated but queerphobia will get you blocked! This is a safe space -Sidey xxo

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober '24

Hello darlings!

This is my first Kinktober, and I’m excited to do something special for all my lovely followers! I’m aiming to post every day in October (wish me luck!). Each piece will be short and sweet, ranging from 500 to 1k words.

Rules, character list & kinks list below the cut...

Rules

I'm excited to take your requests until the 27th of September! After that, I'll be putting together a schedule for what I'll be posting each day.

When making a request, feel free to choose your favorite character, add as many kinks as you’d like {but don't be greedy}, and specify the reader’s gender, sexuality, or pronouns. No need to include any graphics or gifs—I’ll be creating custom headings for each fic.

A quick note on dubcon: I keep it light—nothing beyond a kiss or some gentle touching without consent. No rape scenes. If you’re looking for something rough, it’ll need to be consensual.

Most importantly, have fun and get creative! If there’s a kink you’d love that’s not on my list, just let me know. But please remember, I don’t write anything extreme, degrading, or that strays from canon {e.g., scat play, mpreg, non-con...}

If you’d like to use my list to create your own works, be sure to tag me—I’d love to read and reblog them!

[vanilleandclove]

rings of fire | prologue

ser erryk cargyll x targaryen! reader | prologue: the realm's craving

In honor of Queen Aemma's labors beginning, King Viserys the First and his two twin daughters, Rhaenyra and Y/n, host and sponsor an heir's tournament. The Realm's Delight was a title owned to Rhaenyra, rider of Syrax and the King's cup bearer, the older twin. Though Y/n wore the title: The Realm's Craving, rider of Nymeria and wielder of Blackfyre; Y/n made her reputation known for being the princess whom was outspoken and untouchable, wielding the conqueror's blade just after Jaehaerys.

word count: 2.4k | warnings: reader is described to have pale white hair and to look like visenya (plus largely endowed in the chest…), graphic descriptions of violence, y/n is otto's biggest opp, viserys you fool, slight misogyny. | author's note: welcome back! i fear i will not get over elliott tittensor as ser erryk, i hope you enjoy this series and it will be much longer! also, i took the liberties to spice up the reader. - i will update the meadow in which you lay soon!

next

"Since the dawn of our birth, father has exceedingly taken an interest in marrying us both off to a Valyrian house dear sister" you teased to your sister just before you saddled onto your dragon mounts, "And solemnly for us, Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys have only one male child".

Nymeria was a pale purple dragon, reminiscent of your eyes that passed down through generations of Targaryen lineages, your sister's eyes were painted blue, just as your mother's and father's. The townsfolk all spoke of your appearance in great detail in the days they ever saw you. "The favorable yet quieter and fiercer twin", "The twin with more Targaryen than Arryn in her", "The Princess with the mounds of Valryia", "The actual Dark Sister", and your personal favorite, "*King Maegor as a consort".

"I love our father dearly but I do not wish to be married off… especially to someone of father's tastes" Rhaenyra spoke as she pet Syrax, earning a light coo from the dragon. Nymeria was larger than Syrax though smaller than Vhagar due to age, the Dragonkeepers all spoke of Nymeria being the dragonseed of Meraxes or Vhagar.

As your sister and yourself took off on riding into the skies of King's Landing, jesting one another into a race. Nymeria outshined Syrax though both dragons were quite fond of one another, sisters though did not share an eggs hatch. If Rhaenyra were to be the daughter of Westeros, you were the daughter of the dragons. Though your father was staunchly disagreed with your attitude and the lack of conformity both you and your sister paraded, he wished you both to be near silent and seen sisters, rather than heard.

The clouds felt soft against your skin, your hair braided strategically and your dress flowing in the wind, the fabric straining against your body leaving little to the imagination of what you were gifted with when you came of age. Your father always ordered your clothes to be modest, fearing the great houses and his council were to mistake you for a whore he would say, though you defied him endlessly, giving the king no ounce of rest. The high-born folk and townsfolk were the same when it came to you and commenting on your bodice, horny men clutched to their belts in restraint and shifted in their seats or stance whenever you were present in court, jealous women who were displeased by your body as their husband's had lack the respect for their wife, it was not your problem you told yourself. It was nature's design to be given a body like yours, your mother tiredly reassured you, being of Targaryen and Arryn lineage, your body was evidence of years of warriors. Though, she refrained from calling you what everyone else did, "Visenya's twin".

You did not see being compared to Visenya as an insult, though not your direct ancestor, Visenya was still a beautiful woman- who's beauty matched her brain. She is the reason your father has a Kingsguard by his side, the reason Daemon now has Dark Sister, the reason for your own beauty. You wore it as a badge of honor rather than a distasteful insult, often wondering if Daemon did not stain and smear your family name with his unfiltered temper that aged well before you and Rhaenyra were birthed, if you were to be named Visenya as well. Daemon's temper was compared to that of Maegor and his mother's, when you came of age of six-and-ten with Rhaenyra, your father once joked, "Now we must wait and see whom Visenya will be, and whom will be Maegor". His eyes landed on you at the instance of saying Maegor's name; you remember viscerally crying in your chambers that night, questioning if your father saw you as a nuisance of the family. Twins only meant that one child was not planned, and Rhaenyra was the older twin.

They used to speak of Aegon's feats as a soldier and warrior, though never of him being a husband or a father. Rumors and tales were spoken of Targaryen men, they are either fierce knights, or wonderful fathers. You'd wager your father was neither, but only under your breath you'd say such a thing. They would also speak of Aegon's love for his wives, for every one night he'd spend with Visenya, he'd spend ten with Rhaenys. They'd also speak of Visenya's unfaltering fidelity to Aegon, but how there were whispers at court that Rhaenys took younger men to her bed on the nights Aegon would be with Visenya. You almost felt pity for the woman, her son abused and neglected whilst her sister's sired kin were cherished and respected. Underneath it all, Visenya was still an amazing queen and consort, even with the wicked feats of Maegor, that was still her baby, even so as she waged the revenge of her younger sister's death. Though you were technically younger than Rhaenyra, you were her Visenya.

"We should see ourselves back, to check on mother" you spoke up to your sister, shouted as she was a distance away from you. She nodded at your advisement, both of you delving down into the ground, racing once again. Upon reaching the ground, met with Ser Harold and the dragonkeepers, along with a carriage that revealed Alicent. You were never too fond of Alicent, though she was your sister's dear friend and lady-in-waiting, your fondness resided in Laena, forming an inseparable bond as she rode Vhagar and you rode seemingly, Vhagar's closest kin.

"I am taking you are here for the tourney our fathers are planning Alicent?" you questioned as you removed your gloves and slid off Nymeria's mount, petting your dragon once more before touching her with your forehead in order to bid farewell as she was taken by the dragonkeepers. Walking up to the Lady before looking back to see your sister dismounting from Syrax. Alicent only nodded at your question, you could barely earn a few words from Alicent, often wondering if it was because you were the second daughter to the king, yet still a higher-born daughter than any great house of Westeros. Or if it was due to the desire her brother held for you, though you always shut down his advances, it was insult to you that he felt the privilege to speak to you, the eldest son of the second son to a noble but not great house. You'd never soil your family's name and heritage to wed a Hightower, it was not your taste.

As you walked off, Rhaenyra and Alicent engaged in conversation, you mounted yourself on a horse before looking at Ser Ryam, you were fond of him though, wildly attracted to his newly appointed kingsguard, the Cargyll twins. Tall lads they were, only two-name days older than you and your sister, their hairs match each other's short and disheveled but strategically disheveled, almost as if they both wanted to appear more desirable. Though your desire for the new brothers did not blind you of the health of Ser Ryam, noticing his energy and will to live deplete as the days pass.

"Will you follow me to the castle Ser Ryam? You look awfully tired" you asked, earning a nod from the knight, before he was named Lord Commander once again, your father had him as your sworn shield for several years. As you rode back to the Red Keep, taking sparing glances back at Ser Ryam, just as you wondered into the woods just before reaching the Keep, slowing down in order to conversate with Ser Ryam.

"Anything on your mind dear princess?" Ser Ryam questioned, his horse taking small gallops.

"Do you believe me to be inept?" you asked for his opinion, "I am taunted with the fact that I am in the body of a woman, yet I decline every Lord's hand, including the handsome Stark boys, though the only man to ever catch my intrigue…" you nearly spoke too much yet too little.

"Is bound to another?" Ser Ryam questioned in confusion. You looked up at the sky in defeat, sighing before shaking your head, chuckling in the depravity of your mind.

"Bound to oaths" you then broke the pregnant silence, "Ser Erryk makes a fine knight, does he? Seeing that he and his brother were sworn in just under a year of training. He is quite the handsome man the townsfolk yelp about" you bit your lip, allowing yourself to vent to the knight.

"He may not take a wife I am afraid, my princess" Ser Ryam begun, only earning a somber look from your face, "I too loved a woman before being knighted, she had gone off to marry one of the Tully lads due to my oath. I see her once every blue moon, my love never faltered or betrayed me. I do not blame her for going off to marry, she deserved to be loved in more ways than words, stolen kisses, and nights".

"Do all members of the Kingsguard follow the vow of chastity?" you questioned further.

"We do. Granted I was not in a sticky situation being that of equal ranking to the maiden, though her honor was one I did not want to take lightly. I do pity her husband, it should have been him to be the one to take her maidenhead, not a kingsguard besmirching both her's and I's honor. Our vows are sworn under the seven, as every woman is a picture of the mother, no matter how much we wish it to be individual" Ser Ryam answered honestly, "I am to guard your secrets as well my Princess, any words spoken in this moment are under the eyes of you and me. Though I do advise you, being unmarried puts you at odds if you fall pregnant".

You laughed at the knight's comment, "It is only a crush I am afraid; I am too socially inept to talk to him more than the simply escorts to and from my chambers in the morning and eve".

As you and Rhaenyra walked into the chambers of your mother, being met with kisses on your forehead. You quickly made way to apply warm towels to your mothers' legs as they were swollen, kissing your mother's forehead before moving her hair out of her face as the sweat led it cling onto her skin. You did not envy your mother though she was carrying the burden and joy of life in her. It was you and Rhaenyra who held royal wombs, as your mother would say.

"I will be in the council mother; I will see you in the eve" you told her before dismissing yourself. You never could stomach seeing your mother in agony, Rhaenyra knew it, your mother and father knew it.

As you were met with the knight of your dreams, you smiled carelessly, "May you escort me to the council room, Ser Erryk? I find myself craving conversation to someone who isn't completely eager to marry me off". The knight offered his forearm for you to hold, escorting you to the council room across the Keep and floors down.

"Are you enjoying the preparations for the tourney Princess?" Ser Erryk asked you, both of you never were sure of what to talk about.

"I do wish I were involved in combat I must say, I envy you men for being able to succumb yourselves to violence for a day" you jested, earning a soft smile from the knight, "Are you and Arryk participating? Perhaps I can bless you both with my favor or offer you to hold Blackfyre".

Erryk was stunned greatly of your offer, Blackfyre was a noble sword, the Conqueror's no less, "You honor me more than I deserve princess, though yes, Aryk and I are participating, hopefully we do wish to not have to face your uncle, the prince".

You scoffed silently, smirking at the knight, "Which is why I offered Blackfyre" you instigated the knight as you made your way through the halls. "Daemon wields Dark Sister and I envy him for it, it is an easier fit for a woman's hand. Though, Blackfyre was sworn to me instead of my father by Jaehaerys himself".

Once you made the way to the council room you dismissed Erryk before stating once again, "If you wish to take upon my offer, you can meet me in my chambers tonight" the bold words flowed out of your tongue as if it were familiar to you.

The knight nodded, hand finding purchase on the small of your back as you stepped onto the stairs that led into the council room. You bit your lip once again, holding his eyes for a bit too long before Ser Rickard Thorne took notice, clearing his throat in the process. As you straightened your back and bid him a farewell in a glance, moving your body to enter the council room. Noting the heat that electrified between you and the loyal knight. Only choosing to distract yourself with the bland conversations held at your father's table before Rhaenyra made her way into the council room, only then you found yourself amused once again. Tomorrow will be the heir's tournament, a babe outshining you and Rhaenyra, though you hoped to the god's that tonight, the knight of your dreams finds himself taking your offer.

taglist: @wolvestitches

[nyeisha95]

Alicent: I sacrificed everything for my House and the realm and none of it matters. I am powerless, no one respects me, I have lost any voice I may have had in the council and no one will listen to me.

Also Alicent: I can convince the whole of Kings Landing to lay down their weapons and peacefully welcome you in Rhaenrya. I can convince Aegon to surrender even though it means his death.

THIS is what I mean by the writing being trash. There was literally no reason for that last scene in the finale and it blatantly disregards Alicents entire arc this entire season.

[tamayakii]

Their Angel. Yan!HOTD x Reader

I've been having so many thoughts about yandere house of the dragon x reader, how the 3 big houses (Targaryen, Velaryon & Hightower) would fight for the darlings' affection. Platonic, Familial or romantic. I feel like they would, of course, all fight over what colours you would wear, what house you represent until a very annoyed and exhausted council member suggested white.

"like an angel," Viserys adds, it was said that the gods had sent you down to bless them so dressing you in white seemed the best option... but that didn't stop them from gifting you jewellery that had the colours of their house.

The Hightower jewellery had the most expensive Jade and Emerald on top of gold, these pieces can range from delicate rings to big statement necklaces that encompass your neck. Alicent prefers to give you these gifts in person, alone, perhaps in her or your chambers. Presenting you with the beautifully engraved box as she opens it, showing you a new necklace with a beautiful dark green emerald. Otto's gifts never cease to awe you in how quiet that man is in his actions, a small indiscreet box upon your pillow when you ready for bed. Inside lays a note, upon which Otto describes the moment he found this beautiful ring and knew he must get it for you, the handwriting almost as beautiful as the peridot ring you now proudly wear on your pinkie.

The Targaryen jewellery is almost always extravagant, having connections to get you the best out of everything. Viserys gifts you capes, crowns and veils but unlike the others, he almost always keeps them in white, unless they have jewels. His favourite thing to see you in is crown veils, the jewellery hanging down and framing your face makes you seem like you stepped down from heaven's gate. When Aemma was still around, she gifted you rings and earrings, she wasn't able to give you much before she passed in childbirth. So you hold these gifts quite dearly to your heart, always sporting the dark ruby red ring on your thumb, twisting it when you get nervous. Rhaenrya, oh dear Rhaenrya, she wanted everyone to know that you belong to the Targaryens. To the Blood of The Dragons, her first gift to you was a cloak clasp that show two dragons on each side, her second gift was a crystal bracelet that had a chain connecting to a ring, it was a simple design but by the gods it made you feel exquisite. There was one gift that set the nail in the coffin, it was a gift from Rhaenrya and Aemma, a dragon that wrapped around your neck. Signifying the hold that House Targaryen has on you.

The Velaryon jewellery is often pearls or other sea gemstones as they sit on driftmark and have a hand over the trading routes, Rhaenys upon her second meeting of you, gifting you a pearl ring slipping upon your finger herself. Corlys gifted you a relic that was been with the Veleryons for ages on your first birthday with them, the beautiful necklace made with blue topaz, moonstones and blue chalcedony, wrapped beautifully with Valeryon silver. Vaemond... never was quite as fond as you as his brother and sister-in-law were, you were no Targaryen or Velaryon but for small moments he forgot that and adored your sweet smile.

I would love to draw male and female outfits of what this au's darling would look like, i can also do a part two of the other things the other characters would give you as i excluded a lot as to not make this any longer than it is. Should i make a fic with this idea? pls send me an ask if you're interested in this au

[felrija]

Older queen Rhaenyra and queen consort Alicent, sketch for someone here thank u <3

[nastyc2nt]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Masterlist

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ꨄ This is only smut page! So keep that in mind while clicking!

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¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

[lady-ashfade]

Yan!Mother!Alicent targaryen x Crybaby!Fem!Reader. Vs other Yandere house of the dragon characters.

Just a small idea for the AI picture, it gave me a few ideas and might write more.

Warnings: Yandere content, bullying to get attention, reader being a massive cry baby

The sound of bare feet echo through the halls and many people gasp as a child runs passed them. The young princess covered in mud and her dress ripped, her eyes rolling with tears as she sobs. Her body hit a few on the way but kept running up the stairs to find her mother or anyone she can. The boys had pushed her in the mud when she asked to play, they had never been so cruel to her before. Her sweet nephews were always so kind and let her do what she wanted, but Aegon had always made fun and poked at her. The young girl made her way to the floor, she didn’t care about the meeting and all she wanted was her mother.

Pushing open the door she ran into the room and stoped to look around for her mother. The table turned quickly and their eyes widen in shock and confusion. “My dear girl,” Alicent stood up immediately and pushed her chair to the side and rushed over to her crying daughter, “What’s has happened.” The mother bend down and rubbed the mud off her face. The girl just continues to sob and wail. Viserys stood up at the table, Rhaenrya feeling sick and waiting for her moment to comfort the sweet girl. “It- It was Jace, Luke and Aegon.” She stuttered with her small voice.

“They pushed me into the mud, and I ripped my dress falling all on it.”

Rhaenrya placed a hand on her belly at the image of her boy’s hurting you. She raised them well and they wouldn’t do that, at least on their own since they loved you so much. Alicent pulled her closer and kissed her forhead even if it was still dirty. “We are to have a meeting later about what happened after she is cleaned and calm.” The queen stood up and looked at her husband and then glared at rhaenrya. “Your boys will be there.” All Viserys could do was sigh and rub his face. He dismissed the council, rhaenrya looked at her father but he shrugged and agreed with Alicent.

The princess was bathed fully and placed in her favorite dress, her mother getting her all her favorite food and treats. Aemond found out and hugged his sister while she continued to cry about how she didn’t know what she did. Aemond was furious how they picked on his perfect sister. As they awaited for rhaenrya and her children the princess hugged her mother tight and refused to let go. Alicent was ready to behead them all or exile them since they dare hurt her child. Then Aegon…who had puffed red cheeks from a slap he earned from his mother, and getting screamed at by his father too. He stayed quiet and looked down.

As soon as Rhaenrya entered with her sons the room shifted into a deep tension between everyone. You still stood by your mother and cling to her dress, too upset to look at your nephews eyes. Aemond walked closer and beside you, placing a hand on your head as you sniffled. Alicent looked at the young boys and then to their mother with a suspicious glare on what she would do. “Tell me boys, why have would you do such a thing.” The queen asked them. Their eyes shifted from the queens to her eldest son who refused to look up feeling their presence.

“The boys have said that it was a way they could earn her affection. I believe the words spoken to them were “Treat a woman rough and like a toy and they’ll be forever grateful.” along those lines. And I do believe your son, Aegon told them so.” Alicent looked over at Aegon. She had just got done dealing with him and now this? “It was just a bit of teasing, we did not think she’d actually fall and get hurt.” Alicent fumed and the mouth and tried to control herself again. Jace and Luke looked at the princess head and tried not to cry. Luke started to tear up at the memory of her crying and screaming, Jace couldn’t believe he was mean to her. Even if it was to get her affection.

“You’ll all apologize to her, now! Do you understand me? I shall speak to the king for a harder punishment for this acted but for now you can no longer see her.” Rhaenrya gasped and looked at the sweet princess she loved. When if Alicent was her mother she still had no right. The boys pouted. “My queen, please rethink-” Alicent stopped her by lifting you up and turned your face around to reveal the smallest cut on your chin that was once covered by mud. “She is injured. There are bruises already showing up and the maesters tell me she could have broken a arm! So no, I do not think I will reconsider.” Luke was the first toe break.

“We are truly sorry, Y/n. It was never intended for you to get hurt we promise.” He cried as his brother agreed beside him. You look at the boys crying and apologizing for your forgetfulness that it makes you forgive them a bit. “I- I forgive you.” You mumble so soft before turning away and back into your mother’s embrace while still being mad at them. Thought you didn’t fully forgive them it was a start and you expected their apology. They could make it up to you soon if they can see you again. Aemond looked at the crying boys and smirks a bit while reaching for his sister to pull her into his arms. The princess expected his gesture and wrapped her arms around him for comfort.

Rhaenrya looked at Alicent who stared back at her. The boys all looked at each other with glares over the princess. Aegon who hated that he would hurt his precious sister who was the only one nice to him.

[slaughter-kin]

the brain rot has taken over so here’s this

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

matt and fabien saying "i'm so sorry" and laughing in an interview for 2:56 minutes.

DOES CRISTON'S HATRED OF RHAENYRA INFLUENCE ALICENT? DO CRISTON'S FEELINGS ABOUT RHAENYRA AFFECT HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ALICENT?

[cateyesinlove]

I will forever be insane about this specific scene because the dialogue and JUST EVERYTHING from Alicent flaunting how perfect she wishes to be perceived to Rhaenyra showing her how truly flawed she is and the duty and sacrifice speech as if Rhaenyra hadn't sacrificed her happiness and wasn't obligated to lay with a man who despised women anatomy and both felt something similar to rape every time they layed together, both forced to be there and do their duty and only when they give up trying, she then had to sacrifice Harwin as a father to her children and be nothing than someone kind to them.

and while I am a fully team black and Rhaenyra stan I find show Alicent a fascinating character because I understand she is as much of a victim as Rhaenyra but the way she transformed and the pipeline from being in love with Rhaenyra to despising her and hoping to humiliate her and be seen as everything good and pure while having an affair with her sworn sword and being unable to see past her nose of all the suffering she inflicts on Aegon and Helena along side Rhaenyra is craaaaaaazy

[hiatuswhore]

♕ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥

♕ A/N: If you cannot see it clearly, the title says, The Prince and The Street Rat. I really enjoyed writing this. No shade to other HOTD writers but all the plots be relatively the same so I tried to shake it up. Feedback pleaseeee.

♕ SUMMARY: The world works in mysterious ways and so does the residents of Kings Landing. One never knows what they find in the alleyways and rooftops. Whores, drunks, knights, thieves, sometimes even Princes.

♕ WORD COUNT: 5K

♕ WARNING: None🕺🏽

previous — Masterlist — next

Kings Landing. Home to the vile, cruel, and everything in between. You fall somewhere in the middle, a gray area—child thief. But where do petty thieves and struggling patrons fall in that spectrum? A child struggling to eat as the Targaryens sit in their fancy castle with more food and resources than necessary. This reality plagues you on the most challenging days and hardens you on the coldest nights.

"Stop that girl!" A man screamed, expertly sliding beneath a merchant table. You duck down an alleyway. Your heart hammering in your chest as you struggle to keep your hood from blocking your eyes. A sea of splintering colors and faces blend into a mix of nothingness, your focus evading the angry voice behind you. As you march forward, you turn a final corner, your eyes over your shoulder.

"Hey, watch it!" You grimace at the blinding pain, stumbling backward. In front of you, a boy groans, rubbing his forehead. His tunic worth more than everything you own, and his boots resembling a pair you stole a few moons back. He carries nothing visible to the eyes, nothing to quick swipe.

"You ran into me," He scoffs. Rolling your eyes, you push past him with your shoulder. In one swift motion dipping your hand in his pocket, nothing. His hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back, allowing you to skim his other—still nothing, "Are you thick in the skull, girl?"

"No, I'm in a hurry, so bugger off, would you!" You swing your hand connecting with his cheek, the smack echoing through the busy road. He releases your wrist with wide eyes, ignoring his face; glancing over his shoulder, your eyes widen at the sight of the Gold Cloaks. They carefully scan the road as you duck down a deadend, planting your back against the wall.

Still, the boy watches you curiously, his hood hanging loosely on his head, revealing the rest of his face. He narrows his eyes at you before glancing back toward the Gold Cloaks. You grit your teeth, ignoring his gaze as you listen to the approaching clink of armor.

"Prince Aemond, it is not safe for you to be beyond the gates unattended," Narrowing your eyes the boy grins. He removes his hood with a smug fire in his eyes as you stare at his pure silver hair. You have indeed done it this time. You struck a Prince—a Targaryen Prince. Every part of your brain screams to make a run for it, mentally preparing to scale the wall behind you as the Prince commands the Gold Cloaks to seize you, but none of that happens. Instead, the Prince merely chuckles under the knight's gazes as you stand behind them.

"Of course, Ser Harwin. Will you escort me back?" He says. The knight nods his head, turning toward the way of the castle. Aemond does not move immediately, and the two of you stare at each other. You offer a half nod before turning to the wall, carefully climbing it before disappearing altogether.

That night you laid in your hammock staring up at the stars, the moment still fresh in your mind. You struck the Prince, and he—he helped you? Shaking off the thought sleep found you almost faster than the painfully bright sun the following day. Walking through the market with most of your coils and curls pulled into two tight braids, the coins you stole the day prior ready to purchase today's breakfast.

"Thank you, Daltis. Tell Cayde I said hi," You say, handing him your coins as you turn toward the stairs with bread and a pail of water. The sun beams restlessly as you walk without a care through the streets. An occasional hello to locals who know you and a few choice words between yourself and the patrons you have stolen from. Nearing the closest thing you can call home comes to a halt as the familiar tight grip holds your bicep.

"Oh, come on, Lord Strong. I didn't even do anything today," Your matter-of-fact tone earns a sigh with a pointed stare. He backs you up onto a wall, a soft look in his eyes despite the patronizing finger he points at you.

"Kid, you keep it up, and I will have to deal with you. Here. Stop stealing. Do I make myself clear?" He holds out a pouch to you. Rolling your eyes, you snatch it from his hands.

"You keep doing this, and I keep telling you—I'm not your problem," You fail at pushing past him the strength of a ten-year-old girl, nothing compared to a grown man. A huff leaves your lips as you glare daggers up at him, "You're not my father, okay? Just leave me alone."

Harwin stares down at your small stature; opening his mouth, he closes it as nothing leaves his lips. He takes a step back, unblocking your path. You roll your eyes a final time before marching off. Back at the dead-end alley, you scale the wall, balancing carefully as you run to the next roof. There you plop onto your hammock, closing your eyes and placing your foot on the ground to slow the rocking. The busy chatter of the city melding into one indiscernible mix of movement.

"Ow," You mutter, opening your eyes just as another rock soars through the air—a few feet short of the hammock. Then, as another flies whizzing past your head, you stomp over to the roof's edge. Down below stands the boy—the Prince, his hood covering his hair. "Are you crazy?"

"Says the one who struck a Prince?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as you roll your eyes, muttering touché. You stare down at him, furrowing your eyebrows as he stares back at you.

"Have you come to stalk me in the streets, or do you need something, my prince?" Your mocking tone earns a dry chuckle as he shakes his head.

"Show me how to get up there. I saw you go down the deadend, but I can't figure out how you got up," Aemond says, furrowing your eyebrows. It's now your turn to chuckle.

"And why exactly would I do that?" You ask, watching as he puffs up his chest. So many people in the streets ignore the two of you—just another pair of Kings Landing's bastards.

"Because as your Prince, I command it," He says, his voice cracking as he squares his shoulders. You tilt your head back as a loud laugh leaves your lips, his stiff stature faltering.

"Oh really? You Targaryens are a riot. What's next shall I curtsy and fetch you a cup of wine? Oh, let me apologize before you bring your dragon and melt me from existence," You taunt, resting your chin on your elbow that you prop against the edge. His eyebrows pull as he clenches his jaw, all semblance of amusement leaving him as his eyes sharpen.

"How dare you! You're nothing but a stupid street rat!" He exclaims, scoffing. You spit down at him, narrowing your eyes before returning to your hammock. Mentally scolding yourself for once again disrespecting the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. You ignore his demands for you to return, despite the possibility of dire consequences.

"Bugger off, you boorish oaf!" You yell. After dodging a few more rocks, he throws up at you, he seemingly gives up. You are fuming at the nerve of him. Even as you sit high above him, he finds a way to look down on you, a stupid street rat.

The pouch of coins Ser Harwin gave you affords new furs, a cheap tent, and a week worth of food. You do your best to ration the remaining funds while looting unsuspecting patrons. It had been a fortnight since the Prince's last visit, and you did your best to not dwell on the unpleasant conversation. A huff leaves your lips as you walk back toward your home with empty pockets. The Gold Cloaks litter the streets leaving you little to no opportunity to make a quick coin. You stop by Mysaria to look for a bounty hunting job, but for the first time in your work with her, she has nothing. Not a single person to hunt down for owed funds, the Gold Cloaks ‘cracking down’ on crime.

“Dammit, Harwin,” You mutter, taking a deep breath as you turn down your road. The clear plan for the next few moons now squandered to mere weeks. Rounding the building into the alley, you pause, eyebrows furrowing as Aemond lifts his head. His face tomato red with his back against the wall as he sits on the ground. You watch as he sniffles before looking back down, hiding within his cloak. Closing your eyes, you whisper royal problems only bring trouble. Repeating it like a mantra in your mind as though you fear it will leave you.

You open your eyes immediately, groaning at the tug in your chest. While the Prince happens to be a douche, you are not. You walk over, begrudgingly joining him on the ground. Neither of you says a word at the other’s side or even looks at the other. Just mindlessly watching people pass by on their daily tasks. The silence setting ease between you, laughing as a woman screams at her husband, as a man fails to flirt with a woman, as Gold Cloaks patrol with an allusive, almost lurking nature. So many moving parts in such a small area.

“Hey, uh—if you want, I can teach you how to climb up—but only if you promise not to tell anyone,” You say, turning to him with a tight-lipped smile. Then, for a second, you both just stare, furrowing your eyebrows in an awkward huff before turning away. A pause ensues before Aemond lifts his fist toward you, “Deal.”

You bump his fist with yours before rising to your feet. At first, you both chuckle nervously as silence dances between you both. Then, you scale the wall, giving him a view of how to do it. Then, you laugh as he insists on being able to do it after just a demonstration alone.

“You know it’s okay—I failed plenty of times befor—“ You say leaning on the wall at his third failed attempt.

“I can do it myself!” He growls, glaring daggers at you. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you huff. Why the hell did I do this? You cross your arms, scowling at the back of his head as he fails a fourth time. He hunches down, hands on his knees, as he pants heavily. Turning his head, he catches your gaze, visibly sinking at the sight.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. My brother and nephews they—“ He inhales sharply, fiddling with his fingers with sunken eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, watching him rock on the balls of his feet. A poignant stare in his eyes before his eyebrows pull together, and he scoffs, “They gave me a pig.”

“A what?” You furrow your eyebrows as he avoids your gaze, a look of defeat in his eye.

“My dragon egg didn’t hatch. They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig. Pink dread, they called it,” He murmured, staring at the ground, leaving you to sigh heavily. Your own taunts rang in your ears at the sight of him, "They all laughed at me."

“You want to talk about it or learn how to climb the wall?” You ask, chewing on your inner lip. He huffs, biting his lower lip before pushing it into a pout as he gives the wall a look over, “Can you please show me how to climb the wall?”

“Okay,” You nod. Joining Aemond's side, you point to the chipped-in crevice. You use your left foot to boost off and swing your right leg over the wall. He tries again, getting the motion down but not swinging his leg high enough. On his second try, you nearly cheer prematurely as he almost makes it.

“Oh no, no, you’re going to get it. I promise,” You exclaim, folding your hands in front of your face with a nervous smile. Aemond sighs, running up, freezing as his leg goes over, and he sits on the wall. A large smile breaks across your face as his jaw drops. “You did it!”

“Yeah,” He chuckles. You direct him which way to cross before following behind him. At the top, you freeze as he stands in the center of your things, glancing around curiously.

“Uh yeah, this is me—“ You massage the back of your neck with a sheepish grin. Never have you brought anyone into your space, let alone a Prince. He points to your hammock, looking at you. Nodding your head, you watch as he sits staring at you. “The Prince and the Street Rat. We are disgustingly cliché friends. So how does this work?”

“I think we could figure it out,” He says, chuckling as his confidence glimmers through his meek exterior. You join him in the hammock, looking up at the sky.

“I despise your family,” You say. Neither of you turn to the other as he shrugs, “That’s fair.”

“No Royal drama,” You say, turning your head toward him. He meets your gaze nodding vehemently. Placing your foot on the ground, you swing the hammock, “So essentially, you’re saying your family is as awful as I imagine them to be.”

“Not necessarily. Not my mom. My brother and nephews mock me, father ignores me, and Rhaenyra has never seemed to care much for us,” Aemond lists off, his voice wavering as he stares at the waning sun.

“Sometimes us forgotten children have to pave our way on our own,” You shrug your shoulders, watching the sky as he eyes you. “You should start heading home, Aemond. Remember, no royal drama.”

“Of course. I will try to visit you tomorrow,” He says, crouching down to descend the wall. Opening your mouth to warn him of the particular way to go down, a loud grunt stops you.

“You okay?” He immediately responds, leaving you to giggle silently as he scurries away.

Keeping his word, he visits the next day and the day after, almost as if it were a part of his royal duties. He always arrived with something he conveniently non longer needed anymore, so thought you’d want it. The gestures were kind, but an ache raged in your chest.

“Aemond, thank you for everything. Truly but you have to stop bringing me things,” You say softly, taking his hand in your lap.

“Why?” He frowns, and you grit your teeth, speaking slowly, “I feel more like your charity case than your friend, and I detest it.”

“Oh, my apologies, I never meant—I’m sorry,” He says, casting his gaze down as he fiddles with the ends of his tunic.

“Don’t fret over it. You’re my friend and will continue to be so,” You shrug with a lopsided smile as you stare at each other. Your grin grows as he nudges your arm, whining for you to move over. “For what? So you can practice brooding as I relax?”

“I actually brought a book,” You playfully snore as he explains the philosophy text and his interest in the subject matter.

“You will one day wish you taught yourself this,” Aemond says, opening his book, and you lean back, still looking up at him.

“I’m busy learning the art of surviving. I’ll take street smarts every time,” You say matter-of-factly. He scoffs, a grin on his lips as he shakes his head.

“You’re smart. You could do more,” Aemond’s optimism earns a chuckle that does not meet your eyes.

“Don’t be ignorant, Aemond. It is so easy to dream so frivolously when the world was built for you,” He frowns, nodding his head cautiously as your words sink in. The visits rarely deviate from the same pattern, but you both savor each and every one. Even if the entire visit consists of bickering, the next visit carries on as though nothing ever happened.

For a time, this carried on until word spread through the kingdom about the death of Laena Velayron. The Aunt of his nephews, Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys. His presence in Driftmark required him to support his family. As you awaited his return, you continued your usual daily schedule, and without a doubt, it was odd not hearing the short Prince grunting up the wall. Or laughing at his seemingly always disheveled hair.

When word traveled of their return, nothing came for you from Aemond. For a time, you grew bitter, the sting of his absence and the death of Ser Harwin feeding a deep seeded disappointment. Rounding the corner down your street, you falter while approaching your alley. A Gold Cloak stands at the opening as another climbs the wall.

“What the hell!” You mutter as a replacement Harwin stands before you. When he calls your name, you cut back to make a break for it, only to find another Gold Cloak behind you. Your heart hammers in your chest as they lead you through the streets, the sun waning as your mind explores every punishment ever sentenced to thieves.

Worst case scenario, they take a hand, walking through the Red Keep a loud ringing sound in your ears. You wish Ser Harwin would round the corner as he often did and assure his peers he could take it from there. Instead, your breaths are shaky as your eyes sting from dryness and your lips burn from wetting them too much. Through the massive halls, you hold yourself carefully, clearly standing out from others in the corridor. Down a second hall, the Cloak stops at a vast door knocking twice before saying, “Your grace, we’ve come with the girl.”

“Come in,” A woman’s voice calls out, cautiously pushing the door open, you enter at a slow—cautious pace. The Queen stands with furrowed eyebrows at the sight of you, her green dress more expensive than your life. Aemond sits by the fire blocking his face as he stares forward. You glare daggers at the side of his head, the room's coziness doing little to ease the tension in the air.

“You liar! You promised!” You seethe, your face scrunching as the Queen gasps.

“You may not address the Prince like that girl!” Alicent exclaims, her eyes furious as you stare blankly at her.

“No, mother, it is okay. This is her, remember? She’s my friend—the one I told you about,” He says, turning toward you. He offers a weak smile as your face falls. The prominent stitching draws attention to a little over a quarter of his face. “The one I told you I want to help.”

The Queen’s annoyance dissolves as she looks at you, Aemond’s tales of your life plaguing her thoughts. She places her hands on your shoulders, an overbearing expression oozing in a suffocating waft of pity. “There’s a place for you here in the court if you ever decide you want it.”

“I don’t,” You say immediately, keeping your gaze on the floor. Alicent joins your side with a motherly shine in her eyes as she looks at you.

“I know. I just want you to know the offer is always there,” Alicent's words soothing as she excuses herself, leaving you to glare at her son.

“You promised,” You whine, hanging your head. Aemond swallows thickly while you bounce on the balls of your feet.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to see you, but as of late, I always have someone watching me,” Aemond speaks barely above a whisper when he turns to you. For a second time, you take in his sewn-up eye, red and puffy. Then, your glare dissolves, eyebrows furrowing while taking two cautious steps forward.

“What the hell happened?” You ask slowly as a servant stands by the window, avoiding looking at either of you.

“Like you said, my family sucks. That bastard Lucerys took my eye because I gained a dragon,” He says. Your eyes widen at his words, sending a smile across his lips.

“You finally got your dragon. See now, you truly are a pompous Prince,” You curtsy mockingly with a wide smile. In the back of your mind, the defeated, teary-eyed Prince you have befriended now finally getting his heart's only desire. “I’ll forgive you this time, only because you got your dragon. Which one is yours?”

“The biggest one, Vhagar,” He says, grinning as you take his hand, offering a squeeze. You do not stay long, nor do you miss the Queen’s presence by the door. She had been listening.

“(Y/n),” She calls out. Stopping in your tracks, you offer her a terrible curtsy. You bite the inside of your cheek, saying yes, your grace. “To my knowledge, you have made my son very happy. I am more grateful than you know. I understand refraining from the court, but I am Queen. I must ensure my son's safety, and hanging with you on rooftops is not good enough. Your belongings have been moved to the Inn Keep not far from the castle's main gates. Word is already spreading of his mutilation; he will no longer be able to continue venturing deep into the city. So you will be accessible to him outside the main gates. You may show yourself out.”

You frown, watching as she walks down the corridor. At the Inn Keep, the man at the desk bounces around nonstop. He avoids your gaze and chuckles sheepishly into the silence as he scrambles through his things. Upon handing you the key, he bows. Frowning, you leave him without another word. Your room's at the very top floor, and you do a spin taking in the enclosed walls. Comparatively small in regards to the room Aemond sat in.

On the desk sits a pouch and sealed parchment. The Targaryen wax seal staring back at you ominously.

By order of Viserys Targaryen, first of his name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm.

You stare poignantly at the words of the King—you are sure they were written at the Queen’s behest. Battling the strong urge to be sick in your sweetly decorated cage. The parchment declaring you officially in service to the Prince. You slam the parchment on the desk turning to the tiny fireplace and bed with more furs than necessary staring back at you. A suitable living arrangement, but at what cost?

When Aemond finally musters the courage to arrive outside the gates, you show him the decree. He only shrugs it off, muttering there are worse situations in the world.

“But now I cannot tell you to bugger off as I please,” You say, matching his pace as you both walk through the market.

“You were never allowed to do that. You just lack manners,” Aemond chuckles, pulling his hood down carefully, hiding his face. You walk past the tables in awe of your options. No longer patrolling to steal breakfast but to pay for it.

“What do you have for me today, Daltis?” You say, grinning widely at the old man. He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he disappears inside. “Street knowledge. When it comes to imports and exports, Daltis is your guy for food, clothes, and people. He almost always has a connection if you need something done quickly and quietly.”

“Here you are, little lady, and for your friend. Not certain about the name, but it’s sweet. Just came in from Dorne,” He says, digging through your pouch; you freeze as Aemond hands him more coins than necessary. Daltis’s jaw drops as his eyebrows furrow, but Aemond only shrugs, ducking his head down to avoid the man's gaze. You watch as Daltis thanks him profusely. Aemond turns on his heels biting into the almost fuzzy substance. You follow suit furrowing your eyebrows as the sugary flavor melts on your tongue.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen the generous,” You tease, and he scoffs, the corners of his lips tugging. In the corner of your eye, you note the guard watching you both. You frown, retracing your steps—has he been following us the entire time? Whether Aemond knows remains a toss-up as he gushes about Vhagar. “All that crying like a baby only for you to get the largest beast ever! Do you feel silly now?”

“I was not crying like a baby!” He exclaims. Outside the Inn, you drop to your knee, a sardonic smile on your lips.

“My apologies, my Prince. Please accept the remnants of this Dornish treat as penance for my foolish ways, your grace,” He slaps your hand, scoffing as a laugh bubbles from deep in your stomach. Up in your room, he falls back on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You join him, watching the unremarkable walls.

"Isn't this highly inappropriate for you to be in here with me alone?" You ask, turning your head to face him. He only chuckles, pointing out that it applies more to you, but you are not a high-born lady, so it does not matter.

“Would it be wrong to say I miss your rooftop?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow reminding him losing the rooftop was his fault. He sharply nudges your arm with his elbow, laughing to yourself, both of you basking in the silence. It stays like this until a knight retrieves him.

The years fly without a hitch between you both. However, you have the singular misfortune of meeting Prince Aegon. About a year after Aemond lost his eye, it became apparent the court was aware of your existence. Aegon laughed giddily at the sight of you, admitting he always thought his brother was lying.

"You never bother her! Ever, do you understand me?" Aemond exclaimed, not caring about being seen in the middle of the markets. Patrons gawking at the sight of the two.

"Relax, little brother, we just exchanged a few words. You see when I bite, she bites back. A sharp-tongued little friend of yours. I am curious to know her other talents," Aegon laughed as he offered you a half nod before disappearing into the city.

Unlike the eventfulness of that day, typically, Aemond teaches you court etiquette and aids in refining your reading skills, while failing to teach you high Valyrian. You keep him humble, reminding him that an entire world exists outside his palace.

Offering the desk man a wave, you rub your eyes while marching up the stairs. In your room Aemond sits by the window, not bothering to turn or acknowledge your arrival. The fireplace you have never touched crackles, warming your entire room. You are certain the desk man has given him a key, but the Prince ignores you each time you inquire about it.

“Do you break into every girl's chamber to brood, or do you honor me, my prince?” You tease, setting down your woven bag on your desk. Unpacking the water, bread, and fruit you purchased from the markets.

“Is it breaking in if I pay for it?” He asks, unmoving from the window. You remind him that the King pays for it, removing your tunic and pants, switching into the only gown you own. You halt at the sight of a box on your bed.

“You know I hate gifts,” You say, ignoring the smirk on his lips as you eye the box.

“You hate lots of things. It's your sixth and tenth name day. Shall I expect suitors at your door?” He asks, a tight-lipped smile on his face. Rolling your eyes and walking to your bed, you run your fingers over the intricate detailing of the box. The Targaryen sigil expertly carved on the top. Inside sits a beautifully sewn green gown. “My gift for your name day is still in preparation. That is from my mother.”

Holding up the gown, your eyes narrow, raising an eyebrow as you meet Aemond's eye, “And what is it that she wants from me?”

“Must there always be a motive with my mother?” He sighs, shamelessly you nod your head.

“She’s your mother, the Queen. So I respect her out of my respect for you and my responsibility as her subject. But I don’t trust her or any royal particularly,” You say, running the dress between your fingers. A silence lingering in the air as he watches you.

“Do you trust me?” His question brings a stillness to the room. Fiddling with the intricate detail in the chest area.

“Would you like the honest answer or the expected one?” He frowns at your words, biting his lower lip into a pout at your question.

“Since when did you differentiate the two?” He asks, shrugging, you take a seat on your bed under his waiting gaze.

“I’m no longer that ten-year-old girl who can get away with such a brutal tongue to those far above my station. I speak to you as I please out of our mutual understanding. I do not share that with your family, but because of our friendship, I must be prepared to address your family. I hope that day never comes but realistically, I must,” You shrug your shoulders, sighing at the chains that appear as a gown—binding you to the Greens. He says nothing for a long while, leaving you to inspect the dress, “There is turmoil in your family, Aemond. You know it, I know it, and so does everyone else. When the King leaves, he will leave behind royal drama. I have only asked two things of you and you already broke one. Please do not break the other. Your mother sending this gown all but confirms my fears. She intends for me to wear this, and I am certain it won’t be for the markets.”

“I’ll speak with my mother,” He rises to his feet, taking commanding strides to the door making your eyebrows furrow. You call out to him, but he does not turn back, saying, “I’ll be around soon.”

[vanilleandclove]

rings of fire | chapter two

ser erryk cargyll x targaryen! reader | chapter one: the twin of politics

After your mother is laid to rest alongside your brother Baelon, your father's council is urging the King to choose another heir, though to Otto Hightower's and the council's distaste, the heir and the spare, are both women. The princess's as fierce and ruly they are, they are still women at the end of discussion.

word count: 2.6k | warnings: reader gets her lick back over viserys, reader gets compared to daemon (when i catch you otto), reader also only cares about honorifics if they aren't used by people she hates | author's note: i kept listening to "grace" by jeff buckley and "so tonight that i might see" by mazzy star while writing this, that is why the reader is progressively irritable. AGAIN (just in case you didn't see my update), preaching to the choir, never talk to or engage into a situationship with a man who plays guitar, even if he looks like kurt cobain.

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Upon hearing the news of your mother's death, you remained staying at the godswood, standing still, looking intently on the branches that grew above ground. The leaves that were painted crimson, a pop of color from the trees white and pale branches. You've been here time and time again, often gravitating to it whenever you needed an extra-bit of seclusion from the outside world. It has been a day since your mother's death, you awoke from the handmaidens removing the blood-soaked birthing blankets and Otto Hightower announcing the death of your brother, Baelon. You remained in your chambers as you heard your father's curses ring through the Keep, your wails were whispers amongst the walls.

"Y/n" a voice spoke up, a voice belonging to none other than Alicent Hightower, "It is time to ready yourself for the funeral, your father is looking aimlessly for you". You closed your eyes, sclera's both damp and dry from crying endlessly. You did not look back, or show any sign of acknowledgment, simply just walked off from the godswood, when you brushed shoulders, you simply stated.

"Princess".

Walking the halls of the Red Keep, you were only met of looks of pity and fear, fear for your consequences that may become of you from your father's yells and shouts of your name, pity for the obvious reason, you were a motherless child, whose father hardly treated her like that of a daughter. Once you walked past your father's chamber in the Holdfast, you simply nodded at Ser Ryam, who alerted your father of your presence before you wandered to your own chamber. Only then you were met with the likes of Erryk, his brother guarding your sister's chambers.

You nodded whilst looking into his eyes, he saw your pain, your anguish, he only wished to carry it rather than let you go through it on your own. Though he feared it would not be his place, as you entered your chambers, closing the door almost immediately, your handmaidens quickly ran to your side.

Undressing your clothes, to change into your funeral attire. Your handmaiden, Hana gave you a look, seeing the littered healing bruises that were cascading down from your breasts to your inner thigh, only then taking note to the almost fully faded bruise on your neck. You closed your eyes as Hana excused all the other handmaidens out of your chambers.

"I take you had company not so long ago" Hana clicked her tongue, before she helped you dress, carefully choosing her words, "Perhaps some makeup can cover-". You shook your head, knowing your hair would easily cover the lovebite that looked like a near tiny mole. Hana did not press you on the matter only helping you dress before aiding you on your hair. Truth be told, Hana was a second mother to you, in the gaps Viserys left you with as a father, Hana doubled as a mother and father, but amongst all the things she was, she was a trusted confidant.

After dressing, you exited out of your chambers, meeting the gaze of Erryk. "I did not think you would still be taking post Ser Erryk" you broke the silence, stepping out and taking his arm that he held out, keeping eye contact only led for your heart to begin to thump erratically.

"I keep my vow to protect you princess" Erryk answered, "That means both physically and emotionally. Arryk is escorting your sister to the pyre as we speak" he continued as you both walked throughout the halls, "I meant to return Blackfyre to you princess, but I do not believe it to be appropriate at this moment" you glanced over to his hips, where two swords laid to rest. You nodded before responding to the knight.

"I fear Blackfyre dons better on your body than mine" you exasperated as chills ranked throughout your body, "Though the distaste I earned from the Hightower's might spill onto you Ser Erryk".

"I believe it to be worth it, my princess" Erryk told you, upon making it outside, the cold air rushing against both of your faces. He gracefully placed his hand on your waist, situating itself comfortably amongst the fabrics, he squeezed lightly. It was like the stagnant spin of electricity between you, every time you met eyes or laid touch on each other; a spark or multiple.

Once reaching the pyre, Erryk excused himself to be stationed next to his brother and the Kingsguard as you stood next to Rhaenyra- just in front of your father. Daemon muttered to you and Rhaenyra as everyone made their positions upon the pyre, you began to muster a few sobs under your breath. Rhaenyra held your hand tightly; Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder. They wanted you to do it, to burn your mother and brother. Though, Nymeria laid in the Dragonpit, you would not be able to command Syrax.

You bit your lip tightly, looking to your left to see the Kingsguard standing in position, Erryk staring at you intently before nodding at you. Unbeknownst to you, Otto Hightower took note to the glances, as all Kingsguard stared at the pyre, Erryk only stared at you. You nodded to yourself as you let go of your sister's hand, stepping up. Rhaenyra shall be the daughter of the Seven Kingsdoms, whereas Y/n, shall be the daughter of the dragons. Just as Rhaenys and Visenya.

"Syrax" you spoke up, "Dohaeragon issa" you became to gulp, staring at the graves, hearing the voices of your sister and Daemon, looking back at them, earning a simple nod of proceeding from both of them, "Dra-Dracarys" you ordered, Syrax did not relent, seeing to the cremation of your mother and brother, to become ash.

Taking place back to your sister you spoke up, "Visenya, istan se kostōba se nēdenka tala- nykeā diplomat se nykeā drēje jentys" looking at her with glassy irises, "Muñnykeā va moriot compared issa naejot zȳhon, se ao naejot Rhaenys. Though, nyke pāsagon zirȳ naejot sagon keskydoso, ziry iksos Visenya qilōni iksos honored syt zȳhon cruel yet nēdenka temper" your voice did not falter as you spoke to your sister in your mother tongue, earning looks of those around you, "Baelon would emagon issare se prince naejot sagon idealized hae Aegon, lu īlon raqagon ziry nykeā daor" before ending your speech to your sister, "Avy jorrāelan jorrāelagon mandia, īlon issi ry īlon emagon hen each tolie. Ao shall sagon dāria mēre tubis; nyke shall sagon se idañnykeā hen diplomacy".

"Perzys se ānogar" Rhaenyra told you, your house words. Fire and blood.

"Perzys se ānogar" you repeated, looking back at the fire that burned.

Walking the halls of the Keep, hearing the indistinct mutters of your father's meeting as the council posed the question of the succession. Looking across the hall to see Erryk and Arryk walking the way to the chambers of you and Rhaenyra, you sensed Erryk caught a glimpse of you, though he kept to his direction. You sneakily snuck your way into the halls of the council room, a window peeping into the room, just as you overheard more distinctly the conversation.

"Daemon would be another Maegor- If you pass the title of heir to Rhaenyra, if she does not have children, we will see Y/n- another Visenya and Maegor- ascend the throne" Otto pressed. Your jaw clenched tightly; you have shown nothing but peace to the Hightower's. Otto quickly saw his advantage of besmirching the name of your house and forebears.

To hell with 'Maegor the Cruel', whether you liked it or not, he was still of Targaryen blood. Visenya's direct blood might not be flowing through yours, her appearance was yours, her attitude, pride, and drive. Visenya, rider of Vhagar, a woman of politics, a conqueror, a warrior, though only remembered for being the mother of Maegor. Maegor was born cruel they said, though they forget the lack Aegon was a father to Maegor, even as Maegor wielded his blade and rode his dragon- Aenys, as much as a spectacle his parentage was, was Aegon's favorite. Say what you may about Maegor, but for Visenya, she loved and cared for her son and house, for the betterment of each- to the very fucking end.

You would be a mad woman to allow a cunt such as Otto Hightower to blatantly attempt to shame and dishonor your house's name and forebears in order to usurp. You were aware of Otto's other attempt to bring his daughter closer to your father. Your father was weak. Your mother always kept him somewhat strong, she made a man out of him, without her, he was lost puppy. Nevertheless, you left the council room, heaving with anger but with a new sense of pride. They would rather be clueless enough to tear the entirety of the realm apart, than sit a woman, your sister in question, on the Iron Throne. Even though it is the women who conquered the realm as their brother made them as a spectacle for jealously or rivalry, only exemplified in their sons that followed. It is women who united the realm, it is men who want to tear it.

"Valar morghulis" you muttered under your breath.

It was a quick gesture, inviting Erryk into your chambers shamelessly. Undressing yourself in front of him unabashedly, undressing his armor and detaching his cloak, all quick with no regrets. You stood naked and bare in front of him, not a care for oaths sworn to your father. That shameless behavior extended to the fire that ignited within the two of you as Erryk made love to you. He knew what made the daughter of dragons burn.

Your nails clawed at his back as his cock kissed the innards of your walls, his hand finding itself rubbing your clit slowly as it led you tightening on him, it was a fair exchange. Your back arched in response to his cock hitting the anchor of your pussy, though it hurt, the pain was overwhelming masked with the carnal bliss. Kissing his lips intently in order to soften the moans that exuded from both of your mouths. It was a treachery that sex was frowned upon for women who had not been betrothed or married, you had him once, now you cannot get enough. You envied the married and the men of the realm, not enough to find yourself wanting marriage, but enough that you wished you could scream at the top of your lungs the name of the man between your legs.

"Where do you want me to finish princess?" Erryk groaned as his thrusts unrelented, your eyes, the once pale lavender, were closer to black from lust. Your irises were glassy and your face glistened under the candlelight.

"Inside of me" you moaned, Erryk hesitated, afraid of the repercussions, "Please" it was until he sees your face, though mourning, needy, nonetheless. He obeyed your request, seed spilling into your pussy, filling you with enough warmth to keep you warm for the winter. You stood still for a minute, bones shaking with the pleasure. Erryk grunted as he removed his cock from you, breathing erratic as he laid next to you.

A moment of silence ensued before you broke it, "Do you believe it to be true?".

"What to be true princess?" Erryk quirked an eyebrow, repositioning himself to be facing you.

"Valar morghulis and dohaeris" you further stated, "all men must die-".

"And all men must serve" Erryk cut you off and sighed, fixing your hair to be out of your face, "I believe I must believe it in this line of service princess" you looked him intently, "Being a knight, a Kingsguard no less, you must serve the royal family even with the looming idea you might die serving them".

You shook your head in disagreement, "It must be torture to succumb someone of such service" you hand found itself on his peck, as his heart thumped, "I do honor the tradition of the Kingsguard as Visenya wrote it to be true, though living your life in service to another is just as much as a slave and their master".

"You and I see it differently".

"Then, help me understand" you whispered, looking into his eyes once more.

"I took an oath, I chose my path as a knight, granted Arryk and I were chosen" Erryk told you, "Just as they say Targaryens are closer to the gods than that of man, the Kingsguard are their protectors, what makes us different than men?" he posed the rhetoric question, "There are thousands of men roaming the realm, none of whom know how to protect the King and his family, or on my chances, protect the princess who needs no protection".

"It is a great service" you said before teasing, "Though no man in the realm can also, make the princess cum as you do" Erryk's eyes shined of sin, you were an addiction to the man.

"The King has not named an heir" your handmaidens spoke up as you awoke mid-morning, your face urged intrigue, "Daemon shall be the heir interim, though everyone believes and hopes it to be Rhaenyra before the moon turns".

"Daemon?" you spat at your father as Rhaenyra stood idly in the background, your father remained at his model of old Valyria. "Rhaenyra and I have endlessly shaped ourselves to be the heir to the Iron Throne and Dragonstone, that was our seat as it was since the moment we breathed" you started, "You killed mother for your urgency of siring a son! Unless you plan to marry-".

"Y/n!" Viserys shouted, standing up from his seat, "Daemon is my brother-".

"We are your children!" you screamed, "Rhaenyra is your first born, I your second, you forget yourself! Our grandsires Alyssa and Baelon would have proudly sat a woman on the throne!" you continued only before saying the words you needed your father to hear, "Daemon will not be another Maegor, I will be. I will proudly, take back the crown that belongs to my sister as she is more suited for such role, not a man who draws his sword before thinking. Nymeria is much bigger than Caraxes, do not forget, heirs are a diplomatic decision, you choose Daemon, you lose your strongest asset".

"And what would that be?".

"Your second born daughter".

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