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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 2 months

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The Prince - Chapter One

A/N: Hello! I have been working on this since the season started, so it seemed only fitting that I got the first chapter out before the finale. This fic is fully written, and will be posted every other day. (If you know me, this is unheard of, I usually post as I write.) Anyways, I hope you enjoy! This chapter is a little heavy on the world building, but I promise we get into the good stuff quickly. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.6k Synopsis: Jacaerys fell in love with the reader years ago when they first met in the Vale. Five years later, the reader comes to King's Landing and tries to deny her growing feelings.

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Arnold Arryn was imprisoned in a sky cell after trying to contest the inheritance of his cousin, Jeyne Arryn. You were young at the time, and watching your father get arrested made very little sense to you. Jeyne was fifteen, and your closest friend in the world. You didn’t understand fully what had happened to your father. One day he was there, and the next gone.

Jeyne tried to explain it to you the best she could. She was a woman, and women very rarely got the chance to rule. She needed to make an example of your father.

What you came to learn, in the years that passed, is that banishing him to a sky cell was not the only example Jeyne was setting. As part of Arnold’s punishment, he – and all his descendants – would be disinherited from the Arryn line.

A testament to your friendship, Jeyne kept you in the Eyrie, kept you by her side. She let you wear the type of gowns she wore, you ate the same decadent meals, and she made sure everyone treated you as a lady, although the title no longer belonged to you. It was the only change that you really noticed in the coming years. Your father was gone, yes, but otherwise, life went on as normal in the Vale.

Jeyne had been three when she inherited the Vale. Of course, she would not be able to rule for years. So, Lord Yorbert Royce was elected to rule in her stead, until Jeyne became of age. As Lord Protector, it was Royce’s duty to see that the Vale remained prosperous.

In the final years before he died, when Jeyne was just coming into her role as Maiden of the Vale, Royce arranged a marriage proposal for you. House Blacktyde had visited the Vale when you were thirteen, and their second eldest son, Barun, had taken a liking to you immediately. Royce informed the family that you were without title, without dowry, but Barun was not to be dissuaded. Royce crafted an arrangement that would allow you to gain a title, becoming a lady of Blacktyde, that would also result in allegiance for the Vale.

It had been a win-win.

But after Royce had passed, and Jeyne had taken on the mantle of the Vale, it crept in how wrong the arrangement was. Barun Blacktyde was your same age, but he looked ten years your senior. He had strong arms, corded with muscles, and a sheet of blonde hair that covered his wicked face. In the few times you met, his hands wandered, prodded, and bruised. He was sinister.

Now, at twenty-one years old, there was no more stalling to do. Jeyne had told the Blacktydes that she needed you at her side, that you were still too young, anything she could think of to put off the wedding. She was stalling until she could find a way out of the arrangement, but your hopes were fading as time was.

On the morning when you were to meet with your future husband and sail away to the Iron Islands, a different guest arrived in the Vale.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon was sixteen the day he saved your life.

War was brewing in Westeros, all the houses knew. After the death of King Viserys, the fight between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon had ignited anger across the realm. In the Vale, Jeyne assured anyone who asked that she was devoted to the rightful ruler, Rhaenyra. Yorbert Royce had gone in Jeyne’s stead years ago, swearing fealty to the future queen.

When Jacaerys arrived in the Vale, he had arrived on a mission for his mother, coming to strengthen and call upon the alliances that Rhaenyra had gained years back.

Jeyne needed absolutely no persuading, but she took a liking to the young prince immediately. Nearly ten years younger than her, she delighted in the pride he already carried, the future heir to the throne. If he had been anyone else, she would have laughed him out of the Eyrie. But Jeyne believed that women needed to stick together, and this was Rhaenyra’s son.

She also believed in always keeping her mirth. And few things delighted Jeyne the way the prince’s affections for you delighted her. You had been at her side when the prince came to call. The way Jeyne tells it, she could have said anything to the prince, and he would have nodded his head in agreement, so enchanted by you was he.

You remember it differently.

When Jacaerys had arrived in the Vale, you were at your breaking point. Bleak was your outlook on life. But when you saw his green dragon in the sky, it felt like hope for one shining second.

You were at Jeyne’s side and listened to her discussions with the prince. You would disagree that his attention only lingered on you. He was a proper gentleman and gave Jeyne the respect due to her title, but every so often, his attention would flit back to you.

Jeyne invited him to stay in the Vale for a few days, enough time for them to discuss what aid the Vale could provide, and time for he and his dragon to rest. The prince agreed, smiling – perhaps your way, but you couldn’t be sure. You had been smiling, too, because you knew that the prince’s stay here would put off your move to the Iron Islands.

Back in her chambers, Jeyne nearly squealed when she shut the door behind the two of you. Immediately, she poured two goblets of wine, thrusting one into your hand. This was not uncommon behavior for your cousin, who enjoyed any and all delights, but what you couldn’t understand was why.

“Oh, Y/N,” she said, breaking off with a laugh, “His eyes never left you!”

“Whose eyes?”

“The prince’s, who else!”

“That is not true.”

“It is! I think I just witnessed love at first sight,” she says with a snort.

“I think I’m just the first woman he’s seen who has not been related to him,” you say, making Jeyne burst with laughter. You can’t find it in you to belly laugh the way she was now. Jacaerys had been kind to the both of you, mocking him seemed wrong.

“Are you going to send aid?” you ask, hoping to change the subject.

“I’m sure,” she says, taking a swig of her drink. “I just need to figure out what he’ll have to offer to get me to agree.”

“What more could we need here?” you ask with a shake of your head.

“What indeed,” Jeyne muses.

In his short stay, Jacaerys imbedded himself in your life. Jeyne always overslept breakfast, typically still in her cups from the night before. That first morning after his arrival, you came to the dining hall to find Jacaerys sitting with a few lesser lords of the Vale, a wide, handsome smile on his face. When he saw you, you can’t deny that a light flared in his eyes. He stood up and pulled out a chair for you, inviting you into the conversation.

Over the next few mornings, his attention strayed from the lords and focused almost solely on you. He told you stories about his dragon, Vermax, and adventures they had gotten into with his younger brother, Lucerys. He explained the training he had been going through since he was a young boy. He even confirmed the legend of how Prince Aemond lost an eye, although that one was told at a hush.

Because of his dedication to speaking with you, you knew Jeyne’s initial assumptions were correct. Although never venturing into anything uncouth, Jacaerys always found a way to compliment you, to make you laugh, to make you feel seen.

His presence was a beautiful distraction from the future that was awaiting you.

The prince didn’t know of your betrothal to Lord Barun, and both you and Jeyne were happy to keep it from him. The lord had already voiced his complaints about returning to the Islands once more without his bride, but with the prince and his dragon here, it felt like nothing could touch you.

The morning that Jacaerys was meant to leave the Vale, you come down to the dining hall to find that he wasn’t there. You pretend that you are not disappointed. Spending your mornings with him had been a welcome change of pace, but you had known they would be coming to an end.

When you stand to leave, the doors opened at the opposite end of the hall. Prince Jacaerys walks into the room, a smile on his face the moment he spots you.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” you say, curtsying to him. He studies the dining table, the maids scurrying to clean up the mess, and his smile falters a little.

“I’m sorry to have missed our last breakfast,” he says. “I am leaving shortly. I only came to say goodbye.”

“Of course,” you say. He is to fly north to Winterfell next, fulfilling his promise to his mother. “It was an honor to have you here, My Prince.” He smiles and takes your hand gently in his, pressing a soft kiss.

“I hope to see you again soon, Y/N.”

“Good luck, Your Highness.”

Once Jacaerys and Vermax had disappeared over the horizon, you made your way to Jeyne’s receiving room. You are welcomed in immediately, and find your cousin slouched over on a couch, groaning quietly to herself. She is not a morning person by any means. You are not sure you had ever even seen her up this early.

“Good morning, cousin,” you say, drawing her attention up to you. She grimaces at the light shining through her windows.

“What has you so chipper so early?” she asks.

“I’m always like this in the morning,” you say. She makes a noncommittal sound as she sits upright.

“The prince just left,” she says.

“I know. He came to say goodbye.”

“Of course he did,” Jeyne says with a smirk.

“Did the two of you come to an agreement?” you ask, pouring her a glass of water. She doesn’t answer until after she’s taken a sip and looks up at you with grateful eyes.

“Yes. He’s agreed to send a dragon to protect the Vale.” She takes another hearty drink of the water, before deciding she doesn't like the taste. She motions for the wine, and you bring it over. “He also agreed to take you on as ward once the war is over.”

“What?” you ask, your head snapping to her face.

“Well, not his ward,” she says with a laugh, “Although, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Rhaenyra will allow you into King’s Landing under her watch.”

“Why?”

“I made up some lie about learning more about the realm, so that you could become a greater aid to me. But what matters is that it will get you away from Blacktyde. With the war coming, I can keep him at bay for the length of it, assuring him that I need you here. But once it comes to an end, I want you in King’s Landing. He’ll have a harder time getting to you there.”

“Jeyne,” you begin, but she wavs a hand to silence you.

“When you get to King’s Landing, you will need to make it your chief task to marry as quickly as possible. I don’t know that he’ll ever stop,” she says quietly. You nod your head, the reality sinking over you. The single spark of hope you felt at seeing Vermax in the sky seems to light again within you.

“Thank you,” you say, crushing her into a hug she wants no business in returning.

In the coming weeks, Westeros changes, and The Vale with it. Within a year, two, the home you had grown up knowing and loving, transformed before your eyes.

No longer could you recognize the faces around you. Servants and guards you had grown up with your whole life were disappearing, either as a direct result of the war, or because of the conflict growing between families as different Houses pledged their allegiances to Rhaenyra or Aegon.

In the last year before the war ended, Jeyne ordered that you go to Gulltown. Jeyne had asked years prior in her deal with Prince Jacaerys that a dragon be sent to protect the Vale. Weeks after that agreement had been finalized, Queen Rhaenyra sent word asking that the Vale also foster her younger children, until they could be safe with her again.

Jeyne had accepted, and with their cousin, Princess Rhaena, the three youngest princes, came to live at Gulltown. She asked that you go there, as the war efforts struck closer and closer to the Eyrie. You begrudgingly agreed, because she was your Lady, but also because she didn’t often wear that look of panic in her eyes. After everything she had done for you, it was the least you could do in return.

And that was when you met Rhaena. She was just a few years younger than you and had just had a dragon of her own hatch. She had named the little pink creature Morning, and she was as beautiful as the sunrise.

Rhaena quickly became your close friend. With few friends around anymore, the two of you bonded quickly. You fantasized about the end of the war: what kind of dresses you would get to wear again, the foods you would eat, and mainly for Rhaena, seeing her family again.

The boys were her family, of course, and she doted on them as if they were her own, but she longed for her sister, for adult company. She had confided in you about her struggles to get a dragon of her own, and you knew she wanted to proudly show off her beautiful Morning.

You also dreamed of the end of the war, but for different reasons. If Queen Rhaenyra remained true to her word, you would be going to King’s Landing with Rhaena.

It seemed like the war would never end, until one day, it did.

Jeyne came to Gulltown. She was unexpected, but that wasn’t uncommon behavior for her. She often showed up and left without a warning. When she arrived, you and Rhaena were in the nursery with the younger boys, Aegon and Viserys, now seven and three. You were seated on the floor with Viserys, a dragon figurine in his hand and a horse in yours. You raced away from the dragon, but still Viserys swooped upon your figurine. You cried out playfully, making the younger boy laugh, just as Jeyne walked into the room.

“Jeyne!” you say in surprise, quickly standing. “I didn’t know you were coming to Gulltown."

“The young prince takes a liking to you,” she says with a smile. “Must run in the family.”

“Oh, aren’t you over that by now?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” Rhaena asks, turning both of your attentions.

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, “She’s just making a bad joke.”

“I am not,” Jeyne says proudly, knocking your shoulder with a hand, “You should have seen the crown prince when he saw her.” Rhaena looks at you curiously, and for some reason it makes you feel guilty.

“Her opinion alone,” you say, tidying up around the room. Rhaena gives you a small smile, seeming to accept this explanation, and then turns back to Jeyne.

“What brings you here?” she asks.

“Good news.”

She informs you both that the war has ended, and before the two of you can run off to bag your bags, she holds you back and tells you the best news of all. Barun Blacktyde grew tired of waiting and had married another.

Jacaerys awakes with a smile on his face. He is in a strange bedroom, one he hadn’t been in since he was a little boy. The room had been his mother’s, when they had lived in the Red Keep. It had passed through owners, many of whom Jace didn’t want to think about now.

Today, all of his thoughts were to be consumed by one thought: his family returning home.

It has been years since he has been able to communicate with his brothers through any other means than letter. And since the younger boys are still little, most of his letters go to his brother, Joffrey. He will be thirteen now, and Jace can’t even imagine what the boy will look like. What the younger two, or even Rhaena will look like now.

He imagines he has changed much, too, in the last five years.

When he sees them again, time stands still. He recognizes Joffrey first, but only because he looks so much like Luke. Jace races to him first, wrapping him in a bone crushing hug. His brother hugs him back just as fierce, and when they break away, there are tears in his eyes to match his own.

“You’ve gotten big,” Joffrey jokes.

“So have you,” Jace says with a smile.

He embraces Aegon and Viserys in turn. The boys had been so young when they left, he’s not sure they recognize him. They hugged him back, but it seems more so because Joffrey did first, than anything else.

Lastly, he sees Rhaena. She has grown in the last five years and is more beautiful than he remembers. He convinces Baela to let her go for a moment and embraces her, too.

“Welcome home,” he says. She doesn’t respond other than with a sob-like sound but rubs a hand over his back. She is smiling when they break apart.

They start their day at the dragon pit, those who had gone to the Vale wanting to show off their dragons, Rhaena especially. It has been years since Jace has flown with any of his brothers, and flying with Joffrey now, he feels a weight lift off his chest.

His mother wants them close all day, and doesn’t let them stray too far. When Joffrey asks for specifics about the war, Jace has to tell him in hushed tones from the corner of Rhaenyra’s chambers.

At the end of the day, a feast has been arranged for the family, as well as a few of his mother’s trusted advisors. Jace sits next to Rhaena, across from Joffrey. Rhaena speaks animatedly with Baela about Morning, and the pride in her voice brings out his own. He remembers what it was like when Vermax first hatched, when he realized the honor he had been given, to become a dragon rider.

So lost in these thoughts, he only catches the last few words of Rhaena’s story.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, just a story that Lady Jeyne told Y/N and I,” she says, as if it’s a passing thought, something completely inconsequential, and turns back to Baela. Jace stares off into nothingness, until Joffrey chuckles into his food. Jace glares at him, kicking him discreetly under the table.

“What?” Baela asks, looking between the two.

“Nothing,” Jace says firmly.

“Have you been to see her yet?” Rhaena asks, looking at Jace.

“Seen who?”

“Y/N,” she says with a shake of her head.

“No, of course not.” He knows he says it too harshly, but he is actively trying to fight off an embarrassed flush, and to figure out a way to choke Joffrey from across the table without his mother knowing.

“Oh,” Rhaena says, “Seemed like she took a liking to you.”

“Did she?” Jace asks, his heart rate accelerating.

“Well, I wasn’t there,” she says with a laugh, “But Lady Jeyne certainly thought so.”

“Ah.”

“It would be good for one of us to greet her,” Rhaenyra says, across the table. “In welcoming the children home, I fear she got lost in the commotion.”

“I’d be happy to,” Jace says. Joffrey is barely breathing across from him, holding back laughter.

“Thank you, Jace.”

When supper finally ends, Jace makes sure to grab Joffrey and hold him back while the others exit.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“What did you say to Y/N?”

“About what?” Joff asks, brushing him off. “Your eternal crush on her? Nothing.”

“Why did Rhaena make it appear otherwise?”

“Because Lady Jeyne liked to joke about it,” Joff says. “I swear, I never talked about it except with you in our letters.” Jace nods, centering himself. He ruffles Joff’s hair, frustrated with himself for badgering him when he only just got him back.

“Sorry,” he says gently.

“Don’t worry about it. Are you going to go see her?”

“I told Mother I would,” he says, straightening. Joffrey smiles at him, a little bit in jest, but also with enough encouragement that assures Jace that he can walk up the steps to your chambers.

“Good luck,” Joff says with a pat on his back.

When a knock comes from your door, one of the maids assigned to your quarters opens it. You hear her gasp in surprise but then she says, “Your Highness.” It’s the only reason you are able to connect that the man standing in your doorway is Prince Jacaerys.

You adjust your dress as you walk towards him, trying to see the boy you met so many years ago. He is taller now, maybe even broader. His hair, somehow, has gotten even curlier.

“Y/N,” he says with a smile. For some reason, the sight of it sends your stomach into a summersault.

“My Prince,” you say, curtsying to him. “What a lovely surprise.”

“It’s wonderful to see you in King’s Landing,” he says, the smile still on his face.

“It’s wonderful to be here,” you say. “I wasn’t sure I would ever get to see it.”

“Would you like to see more of it?” he asks quickly.

“What?”

“I could give you a tour, if you’d like,” he says. “The Keep is vast; it took me months to figure out all its hiding places.”

“I’m sure you have much better things to do than give me a tour,” you say abashedly. He steps forward, looking at you with kind eyes.

“You and your house safeguarded Rhaena and my brother for years. It would be my honor to show you my home,” he says. Something about the look in his eyes, the passion behind them, makes you think that this is a bad idea. But you also know, there is no way to decline your prince.

“The honor is all mine, My Prince,” you say. He smiles at you, a dimple forming in his cheek you hadn’t noticed before. You take his outstretched arm.

He guides you out of your chambers and into the hall. Outside, the sun has begun to set, casting shadows all along the airy halls.

“I apologize for not coming to welcome you sooner,” he says.

“You were reuniting with your family, there is no need to apologize, Your Highness.”

“Just Jace is fine,” he says, drawing your gaze to him. “You’ve known me long enough.”

“Have I?” you ask with a laugh. “I knew you for only a matter of days, five years ago.”

“It seems like longer, but I suppose that’s true,” he says, “And you did not know me when you saw me at your door.”

“What?” you ask in surprise.

“You didn’t recognize me.”

“Well, the prince I met five years ago was a boy,” you say, heat rushing to your cheeks for some unknown reason. “You do seem like a completely different person.”

“Maybe I am,” he says with a coy smile.

“What about me?” you ask, lifting your chin to him. He says his next words softly.

“What about you?”

“Did you recognize me?”

“Of course. The years have made you more beautiful, but you still look like Y/N,” he says. A chill passes over you at the casual way he says your name. You briefly try to make sense of what you are feeling, but more than that, you want to stay in this moment.

He turns you down a hallway, guiding you towards the great hall.

“So, what truly brings you to King’s Landing?” he asks. “Your cousin was adamant about it years ago.” Something in his expression makes you think you could tell him; makes you believe you could tell him anything.

“Jeyne is more than my cousin, she’s my best friend. She has done me a great honor by keeping me in the Eyrie. But she also knows that we are somewhat . . . sheltered there.”

“Sheltered?” he repeats.

“There’s not much more I can learn there.”

“They’ve seemed to have taught you well enough. Joffrey says you were a great sparring partner,” he says, making you laugh.

“He’s too kind. Or he’s a liar,” you say, a fluttering in your stomach when Jace smiles at you. “I was more of a dummy for him, I think.”

“He was always quick with his sword. I have a scar on my forearm from sparring with him.” He turns over his wrist, his arm still linked with yours, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal the miniscule scar. You laugh at him. Jace’s eyes are on you the whole time, alighting at the sound from your lips.

“A warrior’s scar,” you tease.

“Indeed,” he says, his smile falling.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, “I didn’t mean to discount all you did in the war, Your Highness.”

“I know,” he says, a soft expression on his face.

You fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence as he leads you through the gardens.

“Is continuing your studies the only reason you have in coming to King’s Landing?” he asks.

“There are not many prospects for marriage in the Vale either,” you say, dropping your head.

“Ah,” he says stiffly, “You know, I find that hard to believe.”

“What?”

“That no one in the Vale would want to marry you,” he says, making you blush.

“Well, having absolutely nothing to offer in the way of a title, or even a dowry, I’m not the best candidate.”

“Even so,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How about here?” you ask, “And hope for me here?”

“I think so,” he says, looking at you intently.

“We shall see,” you say, casting your eyes away from him to look upon a rose, nearly as red as you feel.

When you get back to your chambers, all you want to do is write to Jeyne. You promised yourself you’d wait at least a week before writing to her, but after the evening you had, you aren’t certain you can wait that long.

The prince had taken you out for nearly two hours, showing you all around the Keep, asking you questions about yourself, and completely confusing the memory you had of him.

Even five years ago, he always had a way with words. His affections were clear and sweet. They were apparent still, visible in the way he looked down at you, the tender way he held your arm to his.

But what had changed was the way his actions made you feel. Before you had blushed at his brazenness and laughed along when Jeyne made fun of it. It wasn’t funny anymore. Prince Jacaerys was a man now, and whatever feelings he had would be as grown up as he was. Even with the news of Barun’s marriage, you were still here to find a husband, quickly. That man was never going to be the prince. You vowed to yourself then that you wouldn’t see him again, unless absolutely necessary.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction

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flowerandblood · 2 months

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Paradise Fruit (1)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: watching each other masturbate, soft, poetic smut, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After being treated by King Saladin's physicians, King Baldwin begins to leave his chambers. The people of the court whisper around her that the young ruler will not even live to be thirty years old. As a lady of waiting of his sister, she attracts his attention. ]

Author's Note: I said it and I did it: I know this isn't your typical Ewan Mitchell character, but I couldn't resist. I'm glad I wrote this because I had too many thoughts after watching this movie and now my soul is at peace! For those who haven't seen Kingdom of Heaven, I highly recommend it, it's an amazing production.

Word count: 3.900

Part 2 – White Marriage

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Jerusalem seemed to her at once a paradise and a hell on earth, both beautiful, sublimely sacred, as much as broken, dirty and cruel. The reign of King Baldwin IV was a reign of restraint and peace, the greatest evidence of which was his rich diplomatic correspondence with King Saladin himself.

Baldwin gave permission for the Muslim part of Jerusalem to hold prayers as it wished, on payment of appropriate taxes – a huge step towards reconciling the city's disparate population and a cause of contention among the Christian knights.

As lady of the court, she accompanied the royal sister, Sibylla, like her shadow, serving her with conversation, reading books in her company, being the equivalent of her friend and confidante, watching over her welfare.

She was the third daughter, and was therefore a burden to her lord father, who sent her to Jerusalem to the royal court when she was thirteen. Her father hoped that Sibylla herself would find her a suitable husband and put up the coins for her dowry, allowing her family to glory on the Old Continent in the fact that her chosen one was favoured by the God in the Holy Land.

Looking at Princess Sibylla's marriage, she prayed that she would never meet her fate, preferring to eventually fade into old age in a monastery.

Her Lady abhorred her husband: not in a physical context, for he was not unlike other great knights in stature or appearance, but in his heart, which was filled with the lust for power.

Although he believed that he was acting in the name of Christ on the Earth, he represented neither his mercy nor his prudence, being a simply unkind and spiteful man.

Sibylla was given in marriage to him at the age of 15, and she watched her sufferings and humiliations in silence, only being able to allow herself occasionally to close her hand on hers, giving her encouragement.

It was known that her husband's dream was the death of the King, for it would then be his wife who would become heir to the throne. Someone might laugh at this wish, knowing that King Baldwin was only 16 years old when she arrived at court.

However, despite such a young age, it was known that the King would probably not live to see his thirtieth year.

The cruel disease that had descended upon his body when he was still a young child, leprosy, was the reason why his whole body was covered, and his face was adorned with a beautiful silver mask – the only thing visible through it were his eyes, bright and wise, the skin around his eyelids all red.

His sister despaired at his undeserved suffering, at the thought that his body was falling apart, his skin peeling and pulling away from his muscles, causing him excruciating pain. He could not touch anyone or be touched directly because his disease was contagious.

Thus, one of the greatest rulers of Jerusalem, a man who had accomplished the impossible and ushered, at least for a while, the Kingdom of Heaven into this forbidden holy land, suffered daily torment.

As she prayed for the health of her family and his sister, she also prayed for him – since Christ was able to miraculously cure lepers, as the Bible itself said, perhaps there was hope for him too.

As a sign of respect and friendship, the Muslim King Saladin sent a retinue of his best physicians to relieve the King of his pain, which must have helped at least to some extent, for although she had previously only seen him in audience standing by his sister's side, now the King began to walk through the palace gardens on his own.

One day, when Sibylla noticed him standing next to one of the monks, she approached him immediately, praising his name, and she moved humbly to follow her, feeling grateful at the thought that the King was indeed feeling better.

That perhaps her prayers had been answered.

"Brother. It rejoices me to see you in the fresh air, away from the suffocating comfort of your chambers full of books and parchments." Sibylla said, pulling her shawl from her mouth, revealing her face to her brother.

As a married woman, she covered her face out of sheer decency, as her husband was a jealous man, but she, as a maiden, in addition almost always being in the presence of her Lady, did not have to do so.

"Your judgement is too harsh, dear sister. Books and parchments are my solace in the hardest of times." He said calmly and lazily, effortlessly – it was the first time she had heard his voice this close and she thought the words coming out of his mouth were like humming.

He had a white linen cloth draped over his head that reminded her of the headgear of the pharaohs, a richly embroidered white robe and gloves on his body, a silver mask portraying the features of a handsome, masculine man on his face.

She swallowed hard as his gaze shifted to her, catching her looking shamelessly at her ruler's face, causing her to lower her head immediately.

"Let's take a walk. We should take advantage of the beautiful weather." Said his sister, wanting to take his arm, he however moved away immediately and shook his head.

Pain and sadness crossed Sibylla's face, but after a moment she only nodded and forced herself to smile, walking ahead with him, letting her and the King's servant walk a few steps behind them.

That evening, for the first time, the King summoned her.

"Do not fret." Sibylla said. "My brother is a man of decency and sensitivity. Rest assured, he will not set upon your virtue or force you to do things unworthy of a lady. He confessed to me that he would like to look at your face for at least a moment longer and asked me to convey his wish to you, indicating that you may refuse."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling the blush of embarrassment appear on her cheeks at her words, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad.

"If it is the will of our beloved King, I will do so." She said, and Sibylla nodded, giving her one satisfied smile.

She wore her most beautiful robe and hair adornments as if she were about to attend a nuptials – the material cast over her body was blue, fastened at the shoulders and waist with golden buckles, in her hair at the sides jewellery resembling a wreath of laurel leaves.

As she entered his chamber, candles burned all around, she was also struck by the intense scent of lavender – she noticed immediately his white, seated figure bent over thick tomes. His head turned towards her, in his mask she was able to see the reflection of everything around him.

"Do not be afraid. Come closer." He said softly and she nodded, feeling her heart flutter in her chest like a bird.

Her footsteps on the stone floor echoed through his chamber, the rustling of her robe as she sat down opposite him made her sound similar to the rustling of leaves.

She swallowed hard as she watched him sigh and spread out comfortably in his chair, looking her straight in the eye – she immediately looked away, unaccustomed to such confidentiality with anyone.

"No." He said. "Don't deny me this pleasure."

She tightened her fingers on the material of her garment, lifting her gaze to him again, feeling herself involuntarily begin to breathe through her mouth.

She could see the calm and curiosity in his eyes – his head was tilted slightly to one side, as if he was thinking about something, silence all around him.

"I'm making you uncomfortable." He concluded.

She shook her head quickly, horrified, thinking that something in her posture or gaze had discouraged him.

"No, Your Grace. I just don't know how to behave. What is appropriate for me to do or say in your presence. Silence is safe." She confessed in shame, lowering her eyes to her fingers again, reminding herself after a moment that she should not do so.

The King hummed at her words.

"Do not take my words as my attempt to mock you, however, knowing how little time I have left in this wretched world has made me tread lightly in courtly etiquette." He said with amusement, not taking his eyes off her, something flashed in his gaze as if someone had lit a candle inside them.

"We waste time feigning care and respect, hiding what is true, arising from the depths of our hearts, because that is what etiquette demands of us. When we stand before God, will we say to him: I have never really loved or sympathised, but my lips have left many beautiful, great words?" He asked, and she looked at him in disbelief, completely surprised by his approach and what she had heard.

Some part of her knew he was right.

"In this world, only the King can afford to lack beautiful words." She muttered, hearing after a moment that something akin to a chuckle had left his lips.

"You are mistaken. One word from the King can either create or destroy."

She lowered her head, wondering if he had just rebuked her, he, however, seemed satisfied.

"My reign will end with my death, which will be in a few years at the latest. I will not beget an heir to whom I can pass on my philosophy of ruling, the values that are essential. My sister's husband and his greed will sit on the throne, and Jerusalem will fall." He said calmly, as if he were telling her about the weather, his fingers clad in a white silk glove tapping rhythmically against the table top.

She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her heart, wondering if perhaps the reason he had summoned her was quite different from what she had suspected.

"What shall I do, my King?" She asked, and he laughed again, louder this time, looking at her as if something in her question gave him pleasure.

"Your devotion rejoices my heart. Do not think, however, that you will hear from me an order that would condemn you to eternal damnation. I could not then leave this world in peace. No. I wish that when I disappear, someone will watch over my sister. To help her escape when all is lost here, no matter what her husband will desire. Do you understand what I have in mind?" He asked softly, and she nodded, thinking she felt more respect towards him than ever.

"Yes, my King." She replied.

He smiled at her words, she saw it in his gaze. She lifted her gaze higher, towards the windows by which the shoots of dried lavender hung, surrounding them with a pleasant, refreshing scent.

"I had these beautiful flowers brought in from far away. They mask well the unpleasant ailments of my illness on hot days. The smell of rotting flesh is one of the most disgusting to man, for nature equates it with spoiled food from which he can die." He explained, and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling hot shame ripple through her body at his words.

His suffering must have been unimaginable.

"Knights praise their own greatness and bravery during battles wishing for songs to be sung about them. I, for one, hope to hear songs about Baldwin IV, a wise and prudent King, a merciful Monarch who fought each day with his own suffering and triumphed. I do not know the words that can convey my admiration for your person." She mouthed in a trembling voice, feeling that her hands lying on her thighs were quivering all over with emotion, burning tears for some reason squeezed under her eyelids.

The King looked at her for a long moment in silence, something in his gaze that made her feel a pleasant tingling in her fingertips.

"Your soul is as beautiful as your body. You are like a breath of cool wind on a hot day. I am grateful to you for allowing me to experience this joy."

As she left his chamber, for some reason she burst out crying.

She could not understand why: it seemed to her that her heart squeezed all over in pain, not only out of compassion, but also out of a sense of injustice that a man so great and enlightened was experiencing undeserved torment every day.

Or was it through his ordeal that he became such a man, such a King?

If the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven were to open before anyone in the second life, it was before him, she thought.

That night she could not sleep: she was ashamed of herself for thinking about him. She tried not to pay attention to men, knowing their nature, knowing that they might consider it an invitation on her part to sin.

However, the time she spent with him, although she might perceive his words as ambiguous, seemed to her something almost spiritual, a moment of awakening, as if she had been in a half-sleep until the moment she looked into his eyes.

His gaze would find her in the audience among the other servants and ladies of the court. She knew this because his eyes stopped on her face, and although he listened intently to what his subjects were saying to him, she knew that for that one moment he was focused only on her.

The flutter of her heart shamed her, allowing her to realise that, like a flower, a warm and pleasant feeling was blossoming within her, coming from God.

"You occupy my brother's thoughts. He follows you with his eyes." Said Sibylla as they walked together through the corridors of the great, cold stone fortress.

"It was not my desire to distract him from the affairs of the Kingdom." She confessed with shame, entwining her fingers on her womb, looking sadly at her fingers. His sister snorted at her words.

"Jerusalem is destroying him. It is the Kingdom that is his disease. He has taken upon himself all its sins, purified it. He gave it years of peace and dignity." She said with a pain from which she felt a sting in her heart.

Why was it that whenever she thought of him she wanted to cry?

"I want to relieve him." She said finally, looking at her uncertainly, afraid of how the words sounded when they left her mouth. Sibylla stopped, looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Don't be a fool. My brother will not condemn you to a fate similar to his own."

"There are many ways to experience relief. You said so yourself, Princess."

Sibylla looked at her thoughtfully and after a moment nodded, giving her wordless consent to whatever she wished to do.

The trust she had in her intimidated her.

As the siblings' chambers were next to each other, walking along the corridor from one quarters to the other was not a problem for her – Sibylla dismissed her guards so that no one could see in what negligee she went to the king's chamber.

Her long hair was loose, her body covered only by a thin nightgown, rubbed with fragrant oils, on her shoulders a cashmere shawl with which she covered herself to protect herself from the cold.

When she closed the door behind her and turned to face him, his eyes were wide in shock. He was silent for a moment, clearly not knowing what to say.

"No." He said finally. "Go back to your chamber."

"I have not come to you to sin. Does the sight of me disgust you, my King?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling that she was breathing heavily through her mouth, her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

She saw something in his gaze that looked like he felt pain, his figure creased slightly, as if he had run out of strength.

"God created you to subject me to the ultimate trial. He is torturing me like Job."

She felt a single, warm, heavy tear run down her cheek at his words, her body trembling all over, hot and cold at the same time with desire, though she did not know what kind or what was causing it.

"God sent me to soothe your suffering." She whispered.

They looked at each other like that for a long moment that lasted an eternity, and only after a while did she realise that his silence was due to the fact that he wanted whatever she was going to do to be due to her free will. Therefore, she moved tentatively towards his bed, on which she saw a clean, snow-white sheets, and lay down on her back, putting her shawl aside.

She looked up at him – his gaze was fixed on her, his silhouette sitting in a chair by the window frozen in stillness, the whiteness of his attire seeming to her to shine amidst the candles and the surrounding darkness of the night.

She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat as her fingers lifted to the ties of her nightgown – she untied the knot, a pleasant squeeze spreading between her thighs, something sticky beginning to leak from it onto the sheet beneath her buttocks.

"– does what I am doing disgust you, my King? – is it a sin? –" She asked, sliding the thin material off her shoulders in a gentle, soft motion, unashamedly revealing her plump, sweet breasts. His gaze fled to them, as if what he had just seen simultaneously terrified and excited him.

"– looking at you, all I feel is desire – it's me sinning in my mind, not you –" He whispered so that she barely heard him, his hand sliding from the table top to his thigh.

Though she knew it was wrong, her whole body screamed, wanting him to touch her, to check for himself how soft and warm her flesh was, her moist, swollen womanhood, pulsing around nothing in desire.

"– not just you, Your Grace –" She muttered in a trembling voice, shamefully mimicking his movements, her long, small fingers sliding down her belly between her thighs, sinking into her warm folds like the moist flesh of an exotic fruit.

His head bowed as they both made a strange, unnatural sound full of surprise at the same moment, a moan as if they had caused each other pain, but yet all she could feel was a wonderful, hot tingling in her quivering womanhood, in her lips, in her nipples, in the tips of her fingertips.

He did not allow her to look at what he was touching under the material of his robe, she could however see the shape of that part of his body outlined on the material – his manhood was long and fat like a piece of stick, growing larger and larger with each squeeze of his hand.

She threw her head back, imagining feeling something that big inside her, in an involuntary reflex finding with her fingertips her puffy slit, slick and tight, resisting her as she tried to slide it inside her.

"– let me see –" He whispered, as if asking for something dirty, disgusting, repulsive.

She, however, felt only the heat of pleasure at his words shake her body – her thighs involuntarily parted, her legs bent at the knees allowing her nightgown to shamelessly reveal all that only her husband should be able to look at.

She felt tears under her eyelids at the thought of wanting to be his wife.

"– you have my love, my King – you have my heart –" She breathed out, digging her fingers deeper into the delicate structure of her folds, teasing again and again the small bud from which her body went through shivers of wonderful, familiar pleasure.

His eyes were fixed on what was between her thighs, his gaze hazy and hot, his breath heavy, the sound of his hand smacking against his flesh sticky and lewd.

"– like the inside of a ripe fruit – like Eve in paradise –" He breathed out, staring at her as if he were looking at something delightful, accelerating the splats of his hand with a low grunt of pleasure. "– so beautiful –"

She felt a thrill of pleasure shake her, shivers ran through her cheeks, breasts and legs at his words, so shameless and yet poetic, beautiful, like the Song of Songs of King David.

"– her breasts are like two fawns –" She hummed, quoting one of the biblical verses, the gaze of her King again fixed on her face, full of fire, heavenly or infernal. "– like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies –"

"– her lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb – milk and honey are under her tongue –" He whispered in reply, quoting another of the songs from the manuscript, making her involuntarily allow her own fingers to invade her insides at last.

She threw her head back with a girlish moan, her free hand gripping the frame of his bed, rolling her hips back and forth, stretching her tight interior with the sticky clicks of her wetness.

"– she is a spring enclosed – a sealed fountain –" He muttered and let out a low, helpless groan of relief, leaning down, his hand lying on the table top clenched into a fist.

She felt a wonderful convulsion shake her body at his words, her fleshy, moist walls beginning to throb and clench around her own fingers.

She imagined that her body had just sucked his seed deep inside her, which would take root in her like a tree, giving him a future and an inheritance.

She moaned as she felt her pleasure reach its peak, seeing for a moment only the darkness before her eyes – her fingers, all wet with her moisture stroked for a moment more the little spot deep inside her, her whole body hot and sweaty from the exertion.

Her release was wonderful and sweet, as if she had tasted the most delicious of fruits.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, his figure relaxed and spread out comfortably on the chair, his hand laid back on its armrest, his glove sticky with something pearly and shiny.

They breathed loudly for a while, just watching each other – she decided not to cover her body, wanting to give him that pleasure, wishing only his gaze could see her like this.

Bare.

He sighed quietly, cocking his head, his gaze satisfied, indicating that he had clearly made a decision in his heart.

"– I will marry you tomorrow at dawn –"

She blinked and raised herself up on her elbows, horrified.

"– my King – that's not –"

"– I know that this was not your intention – I also know that you will understand that it will be a white marriage, which I will declare to all and sundry – you will not lose your maidenhood – you will not bear me children – the Kingdom will treat you after my death as a saint who stood by the dying King in his misery – when I join my Father in the Heavens, you will be free to remarry –" He explained and she shook her head, feeling offended by his words.

"– I will not take another husband –"

He fell silent and swallowed hard, as if something in the certainty in which she said this moved him deeply.

"– very well – I have only one condition: you will never take off my mask – not even after my death – you will see me as I am only in the Kingdom of Heaven –"

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peavhyshy · 7 months

Text

𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡. (oneshot)

Pairing: Prince!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader

Summary: Royal/Arranged Marriage AU - in which you find yourself thrust into an arranged marriage with a handsome yet unpredictable prince.

Warnings: mild language, explicit language, period typical language, dubious consent, smut, angst, fluff, suggestive/sexual language, power dynamics/manipulation, classism, misogynistic behavior, possessive behavior, traditional gender roles/expectations around marriage, character development, rough sex, oral sex, fingering, dominance and submission, hair-pulling, marking/biting, and unprotected vaginal sex

Words: 10,863

a/n: this has been in the works for a while, it's kind of long but I hope you enjoy and I also want to make blurbs for this on the side because I didn't want to make this into a series with parts because that too much work and I'm lazy.

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Honeymoon (song it's based off by lana del rey)

The sunlight filtered through the windows of the lavish bridal room, its gauzy white curtains blowing softly in the afternoon sea breeze. You stood before the three-way mirror, your dress and hair only half done as your friends flitted around you, pinning and primping. Your eyes looked anxious despite your gentle smile.

"I don't know if I can do this, girls," You fretted, brow furrowed. "Rafe seems so...intense. And our families barely know each other! What if he doesn't like me?"

From behind you, Sarah chuckled as she twisted your long curls into an elegant updo. "Trust me, my brother likes what he sees well enough. He may be a cocky jerk sometimes but he could do way worse."

Kiara added dryly from the window seat, "Yeah, like get stuck with somebody boring instead of a kind heart like you. Try to relax. Just be your sweet self and I'm sure you'll win him over."

You sighed. "I'll try. It's just all so much pressure, you know? An entire life and future riding on a few short hours." You turned to peer at your reflection, barely recognizing the woman in the gown. "Do you think I look okay? Not too plain?"

Your friends assured you with smiles. It was almost time. For better or worse, Rafe Cameron would soon be your destiny. You steeled your nerves and prayed this royal match may prove to be no prison, but a partnership made in heaven.

You held your breath as your mother swept into the room, eyes scanning your gowned figure in the mirror with a practiced critical eye.

"Hmm. The dress is adequate I suppose, even if a touch too modest," Lady Smith observed. Her gaze shifted to your face, tightening slightly. "And do try to look a bit happier, darling. A man does not want a sullen bride, no matter her dowry. Remember - you are representing our entire family today. Do strive to be pleasant."

You swallowed back a sigh. "Yes, Mother. I will do my best to charm Prince Rafe and make us all proud."

Your friends' faces radiated empathy. Even they knew how rigorous Lady Smith's standards could be. But then the older woman surprised you all with the barest hint of a smile.

"Have faith, my dear. A marriage is what you and your husband choose to make of it. Now, come - it is nearly time. Chin up and smile as if you've won the lottery. Which, in a way, you have."

With that, she whisked from the room, leaving you to draw a steadying breath. Your friends gave encouraging smiles and squeezed your hands. This was it - for better or worse, your future began now.

The ceremonial hall was awash with sparkling lights and fragrant flowers as dusk fell. Rafe stood tall by the altar, tugging irritably at his stiff collar. His gaze roamed restlessly over the assembled guests while Rose droned on beside him about proper etiquette.

"And remember to look her in the eyes when you say your vows," Rose nattered. "The audience will be hanging on your every word."

Rafe scoffed under his breath. As if he gave a damn about any of these stuffy traditions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ward approaching, lips pursed in that familiar disapproving frown.

"Try to pay attention, son," Ward rumbled, handing him a small scroll. "These are the terms your betrothed's father expects you to agree to. Mind you, hold up your end of the bargain."

Rafe scanned the endless stipulations with a curl of his lip. As if he was some prize mare to be sold to the highest bidder. But he knew better than to argue.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, tucking away the scroll. His gaze fell on Wheezie's small form near the front, watching him with wide eyes. At least one Cameron was on his side, the innocent little dove that she was.

The trumpets sounded then, signaling the bride's arrival. Showtime. Straightening his uniform jacket, Rafe pasted on his most rakish grin and steeled himself to meet his political match.

His gaze drifted to the double doors at the end of the hall, anticipation and annoyance battling within him. No doubt some meek little flower they'd chosen to shackle him to for the sake of power and status. Still, a small part of him was curious to lay eyes on this Y/N Smith his advisors claimed would make such a perfect royal match.

When the doors swept open, Rafe straightened and schooled his features into a haughty mask of indifference. But the sight that met his gaze gave him pause. There, being escorted down the aisle on your father's arm, was a vision in ivory silk and lace. His brows lifted in surprise at the beauty gliding toward him with eyes demurely downcast. This was his intended bride?

The closer you came, the faster Rafe's pulse raced. Your cheeks were flushed, lips painted pink. Your curls spilled over your shoulders, begging to be toyed with. His gaze roamed lower, taking in the enticing curves and dips of your figure through your gown. A slow smirk spread over his face. Perhaps this evening would prove more enjoyable than anticipated. By the time you lifted your gaze to meet his at the altar, Rafe's ice blue eyes gleamed with heat and the thrill of the hunt. No meek flower here - only a rare, exotic bloom ready to be plucked. And if your quick intake of breath was any indication, the feeling just might be mutual. Excellent.

Rafe's smirk widened at your reaction, noting the pretty blush that rose to your cheeks. His gaze swept over you appreciatively as you took your place beside him, leaning close to murmur in a low, husky tone for your ears alone. "Well now, aren't you a tempting morsel? I do believe I'll enjoy unwrapping my gift later this evening, Mrs. Cameron." His eyes flashed suggestively at the way your breath caught, enjoying how flustered you seemed by his proximity and blunt words. Perhaps the little dove wasn't quite so meek after all. All the better.

Rafe barely paid attention as the pompous old minister droned on, too focused on watching emotions flit across your expressive features. Annoyance, uncertainty, even a spark of temper in those fathomless eyes. His new bride was no giggling debutante, that much was clear. When the time came to recite your vows, his were short and to the point. But the words he chose made your gaze snap to his in surprise.

"To have and to hold, for better and worse, as long as we both shall live. I vow to worship you with my body, protect you with my sword, and share with you all the spoils of my conquests. You are mine, now and always." His thumb brushed your wrist in a possessive caress as he slid the ring onto your finger. "With this ring, I pledge to you my heart, and swear you shall never want for passion."

Rafe couldn't resist adding in a husky undertone as the minister pronounced them man and wife, "Pucker up, princess. Time for the fun part." His arm slid around your waist and he dipped you dramatically, sealing your vows with a searing kiss as your audience erupted into raucous cheers.

Your eyes went wide as Rafe's arm wrapped around your waist, and before you could protest his lips descended onto yours in a scorching kiss. Your first instinct was to squirm away, unused to such public displays of affection - but his strong arms held you in place, and after a moment you found yourself melting into the kiss. By the time Rafe lifted his head, Your cheeks were flaming and you were breathless.

Rafe's smug chuckle brought you back to yourself. "Cat got your tongue, wife?" He teased, eyes gleaming. You huffed, straightened and attempted to smooth your disheveled hair and gown.

"Must you always be so…so…" You struggled for the right word, and Rafe quirked a brow.

"Charming? Irresistible? I can't help my natural talents, love."

You rolled your eyes. "I was going to say incorrigible."

Rafe laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Ah, there's that spark I've been waiting to see. Don't worry, I'll have you swooning in my arms soon enough."

"You're certainly confident in yourself, aren't you?" You remarked dryly. Rafe's grin only widened.

"With good reason. But come now wife, no need to be shy." He leaned close, breath fanning your ear. "The bedding ceremony awaits us, unless you'd care to give our guests a show right here?"

You gasped, shoving at his chest though your heart raced at his words. "You're despicable!"

Rafe caught your hand, bringing it to his lips. "All part of my charm, princess. Now, shall we?" He offered his arm, eyes dancing with mirth at your discomfort.

You huffed, pulling your hand away. "Must you be so arrogant and crass? There are proper ways to speak to a lady, as I'm sure you know."

Rafe's grin only widened at your annoyance. "Proper is boring. I prefer to speak my mind, and right now it's full of how ravishing you look in that gown. Can you blame a man for being eager to peel it off?"

Your cheeks flamed at his bold words. "You forget yourself, Your Highness. We've only just met."

Rafe leaned close, breath hot on your ear. "We're man and wife now, pet. No need to stand in the ceremony." His gaze swept over your figure appreciatively. "I always get what I want, and right now that's you in my bed. But we'll take things slow…at first."

You bristled at his arrogance, grasping for a retort, but found yourself speechless. Your heart raced with a mix of irritation, anticipation and uncertainty. You knew your duty here today, had steeled yourself for a political match and indifferent spouse. But Rafe Cameron seemed determined to sweep you off your feet, whether you willed it or not.

Rafe chuckled at your loss for words, offering his arm. "Come, the revelry awaits us. And after…" His eyes gleamed suggestively, "The real fun begins."

You swallowed hard, slipping your arm through his. Your mother was right, this marriage was what you chose to make of it. But something told you life with this wickedly charming scoundrel of a prince would be anything but boring. For better or worse, your destiny was sealed - and as Rafe led you into the cheering crowd, you couldn't deny a thrill of excitement amid your doubts. Your story was only just beginning.

Rafe guided you into the lavish ballroom, nodding at the trumpeters to announce your arrival. As the first strains of a lively waltz filled the air, he turned to you with a roguish grin and swept you into his arms.

"Time for our first dance as husband and wife, princess. Try not to swoon, I know I'm irresistible." Rafe's eyes gleamed with mirth at your huff of annoyance, though you had little choice but to follow as he led you in the steps of the dance. His hand rested scandalously low on your back, holding you close as you spun and dipped across the floor.

By the time the music ended, You was flushed and breathless in his arms. Rafe smirked, enjoying your flustered state, but before he could tease you further a throat cleared behind them.

"If you don't mind, I'll take over from here."

They turned to find your father, Lord Smith, eyeing Rafe sternly. Rafe gave a curt nod, handing you off to the grim-faced man.

"Of course, father-in-law. I was merely warming her up for you." Rafe's sly undertone earned him a reproachful glare from you before you allowed your father to lead you in the next dance.

Rafe stood back, crossing his arms over his chest, when Rose appeared at his side. "Must you provoke her so? She is your wife now, try to be kind."

Rafe scoffed. "She knows my nature well enough. Life would be dreadfully boring without challenges." His gaze drifted back to you, a smile tugging at his lips when you dared a glance in his direction. Rose sighed, patting his arm.

"Be gentle to her.” Rafe's gaze landed on Ward approaching, lips pursed in disapproval as usual. Before his father could lecture him, Rafe turned to your mother with an exaggerated bow.

"Lady Smith, your daughter is a vision. I trust she'll make a fine princess." His charming smile didn't reach his eyes.

Lady Smith's gaze was coolly assessing. "Indeed. Do try to behave yourself, Your Highness. My girl is gentle bred and undeserving of your…roguish tendencies."

Rafe's smile turned wolfish. "Not to worry, I'll be on my best behavior. In public, at least." His suggestive undertone made Lady Smith's eyes narrow.

"Mother, must you provoke him so?" You sighed as you rejoined them. Your gaze shifted between Rafe and your mother anxiously.

Rafe chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "No need to fret, princess. I was merely exchanging pleasantries with your charming mother."

Ward's voice rumbled behind Rafe. "If you're quite finished, the receiving line awaits you both."

Rafe suppressed an eye roll, turning to greet his younger sisters. Sarah's gaze was assessing, while little Wheezie beamed up at the newlyweds.

"You look so pretty, Y/N!" Wheezie gushed. "I hope you'll still come visit me, now that you're a princess."

You smiled, bending to embrace the girl. "Of course, whenever I can. And you must come see me too."

Rafe watched the exchange with a mix of fondness and annoyance. His littlest sister had always been too softhearted. But seeing your sweet nature with Wheezie gave him hope this match may not prove entirely intolerable.

Ward cleared his throat, Rafe bristled at his father's impatience, but couldn't fault Wheezie's enthusiasm. His littlest sister had always been too softhearted for her own good. Still, seeing your sweet smile as you embraced Wheezie gave Rafe a flicker of hope this match may not prove entirely intolerable. If you could win over even his most skeptical family members, you just might stand a chance.

Rafe turned to his father with a mocking bow. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Mustn't keep the adoring masses waiting." His sarcastic tone earned an eye roll from Sarah, ever the voice of reason. Rose simply sighed, patting Rafe's arm as he passed.

"Behave," she murmured. Rafe just chuckled, offering his arm to you.

"Shall we, wife? Our public awaits." You glanced between your families anxiously before accepting his arm. Rafe patted your hand, pitching his voice low. "No need to fret, pet. I don't bite…hard." His roguish wink brought a blush to your cheeks.

As you made your way to the receiving line, Rafe found his gaze drawn again and again to your expressive features. Your reactions were simply too amusing. While your guests and courtiers showered you with congratulations and well wishes, he watched emotions flit across your face - uncertainty, annoyance, even curiosity. His new bride was an open book, though your courteous smiles revealed none of the thoughts behind your fathomless eyes. Rafe was determined to unlock all your mysteries, one by tantalizing one.

Rafe allowed you to guide him to your seats at the head table, though his gaze strayed often to his friends at a nearby table. Topper and Kelce were regaling each other with tales of previous sailing adventures, no doubt in anticipation of the race Rafe had every intention of winning. His competitive nature chafed at being stuck here making polite conversation when he could be out on the open water.

You seemed to sense his restlessness, offering a gentle smile as you tucked a napkin into Wheezie's lap. "There now, all tidy. I do hope you'll save room for dessert, little dove."

Wheezie beamed up at you, her new sister-in-law. "I will! Cook always makes the best cakes. Are you excited for your wedding trip?"

Your smile turned rueful. "I suppose so. Traveling somewhere new is always an adventure." your gaze flitted uncertainly to Rafe.

Rafe snorted. "Adventure is what I live for, pet." His gaze swept over you boldly. "Though I daresay our wedding night will prove enough of an adventure."

Your cheeks flamed at his innuendo, gaze darting to Sarah in appeal. Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "Honestly Rafe, must you be so crude?"

Rafe just chuckled, leaning back in his seat as servants began delivering the lavish courses of their meal. His attention drifted often to his friends, ignoring the disapproving glares of their parents discussing terms of the marriage arrangement. There will be time enough for politics and responsibility tomorrow. Tonight was meant for revelry and chasing whatever pleasures caught his fancy. And at the moment, his new bride was proving an intriguing diversion.

His gaze slid back to you, watching as you laughed with Sarah and Wheezie. Rafe picked at the lavish dishes set before him, paying little mind to the chatter around him. His gaze kept straying to you, noting how animated you seemed speaking with Sarah and Wheezie. At least his sisters appeared taken with his new bride, if the way they hung on your every word and laughed at your silliest comments were any indication. Their obvious delight gave Rafe hope this match may prove more tolerable than anticipated.

Still, his restless nature chafed at the forced pleasantries and pomp of this grand occasion. He longed to be out sailing with his crew, chasing the thrill of adventure on the open sea. As if sensing his wayward thoughts, Kelce leaned around Topper with a sly grin.

"When's the race, man? This fancy shindig is dreadfully dull."

Rafe smirked. "Patience, Kelce. We set sail at first light, and not a moment sooner. Wouldn't do to abandon my own wedding feast, as tempting as it may be."

Topper chuckled. "Think of the gossip that would stir. The new princess, jilted on her wedding night by a scoundrel of a husband!"

Rafe snorted. "As if I'd miss unwrapping that particular gift." His gaze slid suggestively over your figure, lingering on the curve of your neck and the stray curls that had escaped your elegant updo. Anticipation thrummed in his veins at the thought of finally claiming his passionate new bride.

Kelce followed Rafe's gaze with a grin. "Can't say I blame you, mate. Seems you've landed quite the prize, for a political match."

Rafe's smile turned wolfish. "Aye, and she'll make a fine figurehead aboard my ship."

Topper laughed and Rafe's attention kept straying to you, watching as you chatted and laughed with his sisters. Your sweet smile and gentle manner seemed to put even the most hesitant guests at ease. Though he'd never admit it aloud, Rafe found himself grudgingly impressed by your poise and social graces. You were clearly in your element, greeting courtiers and chatting with servants alike as if you hadn't a care in the world.

A nudge at his elbow drew Rafe's gaze to Kelce, who had abandoned all pretense of propriety and was lounging in his seat with a goblet of wine in hand. "So when's the real party start, eh mate?" Kelce grinned with a suggestive waggle of his brows. "Looks like you landed a lively one. Bet she's a wildcat behind closed doors."

Rafe snorted, taking a swig of his own wine. "Wouldn't you like to know. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"Since when are you a gentleman?" Topper scoffed from Kelce's other side. Rafe shot him an obscene gesture, earning chuckles from his uncouth friends.

"Perhaps we'll have to arrange a private showing for you two scoundrels. I'm sure my bride would be delighted to entertain." Rafe's sarcastic remark was rewarded by Kelce's bark of laughter.

"Now that's an offer I might take you up on!" Kelce's eyes gleamed with mischief as they drifted to you. Rafe's gaze narrowed, a spark of annoyance flaring to life.

"In your dreams, mate. This one's all mine." Rafe's arm shot out to grasp Kelce's shoulder in a bruising grip, smile turning dangerous.

'So, Rafe what's your plans with my lovely Y/N?'' Your father asks.

Rafe's gaze snapped to Lord Smith, who was eyeing him expectantly across the table. He suppressed a scowl at the interruption, forcing his grip on Kelce's shoulder to relax as he leaned back in his seat.

"I plan to show the princess the time of her life, of course," Rafe replied with a roguish smirk. "Starting with a grand tour of my kingdom. She shall want for nothing as my wife."

Lord Smith's eyes narrowed slightly. "See that she doesn't. My daughter is gentle bred, and I'll not have her spirit broken by some scoundrel of a husband."

Rafe bristled at the insult but kept his tone light. "Not to worry, father-in-law. Your daughter is in capable hands." His gaze slid suggestively to you, watching in amusement as you seemed to sense the scrutiny and glanced between them uncertainty.

Lord Smith snorted. "Capable of chasing anything in skirts, so I hear. I warn you now, if any harm comes to my daughter through your…philandering ways…"

"You have my word as a gentleman," Rafe cut in through gritted teeth. "Y/N shall remain untouched by scandal. My duty is to her and her alone now."

Lord Smith seemed unconvinced, but gave a curt nod. "See that you remember that. She is still young, and deserves a chance at happiness." His stern gaze swept over Rafe in assessment. "Do not make me regret this match."

Rafe shrugged off the threat, patience already wearing thin. "If there's nothing else, I believe I shall steal my bride away for a dance." He stood abruptly, pushing back from the table to stride around its length and offered you his arm with an exaggerated bow.

"May I have this dance, princess?'' *Rafe turned back to Lord Smith with a mocking bow and dangerous smile. “Not to worry, father-in-law. I always take excellent care of my possessions.” His suggestive undertone brought a scowl to the older man’s face.

Before Lord Smith could retort, Rafe grasped your hand and tugged you from your seat. “Come, wife. I’ve been patient long enough.”

You glanced uncertainly between Rafe and your father. “But, the toasts…”

“Can wait.” Rafe’s grip on your wrist tightened, brooking no argument. Your gaze narrowed at his peremptory tone but you allowed him to lead you onto the dance floor.

Rafe smirked at your obvious annoyance, spinning you into a lively waltz. “You’ll have to get used to obeying my commands, pet. I’m not a man who takes no for an answer.”

You huffed, attempting to pull away, but Rafe’s arm around your waist held you in place. “Unhand me, you arrogant beast!”

Rafe chuckled at your fruitless struggles, leaning close to purr in your ear. “Now is that any way to speak to your husband, wife?” His breath fanned hot on your neck, and Rafe felt a thrill of satisfaction when your breath caught. “Best get used to my beastly ways, pet. The night is young, and I’ve only just begun to claim what’s mine…”

You gasped at his audacious words, cheeks flaming. “You forget yourself, Prince Rafe!” Your protests only made Rafe’s wicked grin widen.

“Not at all, princess.” His eyes gleamed with heat and the thrill of the chase. “I know exactly who I am, and what I want.”

As the final courses of the lavish meal were cleared away, Rafe turned to you with a roguish grin. "Well wife, time for your tour of our kingdom. I have a surprise for you." He signaled to a nearby servant, who approached with a bow. "Take the princess for a turn about the grounds and gardens. Show her all our kingdom has to offer."

The servant nodded. "As you wish, Your Highness." His gaze slid to you with a familiar smile. "Your Highness."

Your eyes went wide with recognition. "JJ? Is that really you?" You grasped the servant's hands eagerly. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you! I had no idea you were working here."

Rafe lifted a brow, not having anticipated this happy reunion. Evidently his bride and this JJ Maybank were already acquainted. "You two know each other?"

You smiled. "We grew up together, before JJ's family moved into the city." Your gaze shifted between Rafe and the servant anxiously. "I do hope it's alright for us to catch up…"

Rafe waved a hand dismissively. "By all means. You're free to go where you like, I have other matters to attend to at the moment." His gaze slid pointedly to where Kelce and Topper were already deep in their cups, toasting loudly to his good fortune. You followed his gaze, cheeks coloring slightly.

"Thank you, husband." Your courtesy seemed strained. Rafe simply inclined his head.

"Enjoy your stroll, princess. I'll come find you later this evening, there are more…private celebrations in store." His suggestive tone brought a blush to your cheeks as he strode off to join his friends.

As JJ led you through elaborate gardens and courtyards, your anxiousness gave way to delight. "Oh, it's so lovely here! All these flowers, and fountains…I can see why you enjoy working in the palace gardens."

JJ smiled, patting your hand. "Aye, it's peaceful work. I'm glad to see a friendly face, even under these circumstances." His gaze turned sympathetic. "How are you faring, Y/N? I was worried when I heard of this arrangement."

You sighed. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Prince Rafe is…not at all what I imagined." your brows furrowed, uncertain how much you dared confide in your old friend.

JJ snorted. "No doubt. He’s got a reputation for being wild. But don't you worry, I'll keep an eye out and make sure he treats you well."

You smiled at his protectiveness. "Thank you, JJ, but I'm capable of handling my own husband. It may take some getting used to, but this match could secure a bright future for my family. I have to at least give it a chance." your gaze drifted back toward the distant palace, where even now Rafe was likely carousing with his friends.

JJ followed your gaze, brows pinching with concern. "Just…promise me you'll be careful. There’s a dangerous streak in him. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I appreciate your concern." You squeezed his arm. "But Rafe is my husband now, for better or worse. I have to make my own judgments, and hope this marriage becomes more than just political."

JJ sighed, realizing your mind was made up. "You always did see the good in people.”

You nodded and bid JJ farewell with a wave and a promise to visit him again soon in the gardens. As you made your way back toward the palace, a young maidservant approached and curtsied.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but it's time to prepare you for the evening. If you'll follow me, please."

You nodded, allowing the girl to lead you to an elaborate set of chambers. Your eyes went wide taking in the lavish space, draped in silks and velvets of deep red and gold. At the center was an enormous canopied bed, and adjoining the main room were a dressing chamber and bathing room aglow with the light of a crackling fire.

The maidservant curtsied again. "The prince bid me draw you a bath and help you...prepare for the evening, Your Highness. Please, disrobe and I'll assist you."

You blinked at the girl, cheeks heating at the implication. You were no stranger to the wedding night obligations awaiting you, but to have it stated so boldly...

With shaking fingers you began removing the heavy layers of your wedding gown, aided by two more maidservants who appeared. In a matter of minutes you stood in just your thin shift, anxiously clutching the fabric as the servants poured steaming water into an ornate tub and added fragrant oils.

The lead maid turned to you with a gentle smile. "The water is ready, Your Highness. Do not be afraid, we are here to help you bathe and make yourself presentable for the prince's pleasure."

"You look beautiful, my lady," one maid assured her. "The prince will be most pleased."

You swallowed hard, allowing the servants to help you step out of your shift and sink into the hot, scented water. As they began bathing your hair and softly chattering about how beautiful you looked, how pleased the prince would be, your anxiety gave way to anticipation.

"There now, you look exquisite." The head maid gave an approving nod.

Your apprehension slowly melted into calm as the maidservants gently bathed your hair and skin. The warm, floral-scented water soothed your nerves, as did their soft reassurances. When they finished, you stepped from the ornate tub and allowed them to pat you dry with soft towels.

Smiling encouragingly, the maids led you into the adjoining dressing chamber. Lacy smallclothes and a gossamer nightdress were laid out atop the silken sheets. With deft fingers, the maids slid the delicate garments over your frame, then bid you to sit before the vanity while they brushed out your damp curls.

"Just a touch of color for your lips and cheeks, my lady," the head maid murmured, dabbing rouge onto your mouth. "There now, perfect. The prince will be beside himself when he sees how lovely you look."

You studied your reflection, almost unrecognizing yourself. But the muted excitement in your eyes was unmistakable. However brash he was, Rafe's obvious desire flattered your feminine pride. And despite your differences, you had to admit a spark of anticipation for what was to come.

With a last few primping touches, the maids curtsied and took their leave. Alone now, you sat perched on the edge of the bed to wait. Your heart pounded and you twisted the wedding rings on your finger. Whatever happened tonight, your life would be forever changed.

As Rafe strode into the lavish chambers prepared for your wedding night, his gaze immediately found You perched on the edge of the massive bed. The sight of you in the sheer nightdress, hair spilling over your shoulders, sent a bolt of desire through him. His hungry gaze roamed over you, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, your knuckled grip on the bed sheets. Smirking, he shrugged out of his formal jacket and began stalking toward you.

"Well now, what a tempting little morsel we have here," he purred, bracing his hands on either side of you and caging you in. "You look good enough to devour, princess."

He noted how your breath caught as he traced a finger along your collarbone. "What's the matter, love?" Rafe chuckled darkly at your wide-eyed look. "Not to worry, I'll have you singing for me soon enough…"

With that promise, his mouth descended on yours in a ruthless kiss. His large hands grasped your waist, pulling you firmly against him. Breaking the kiss, he murmured hotly in your ear, "I've been waiting all night for this. To finally make you mine…"

Rafe's hands slid slowly up your sides, his gaze never leaving your wide eyes. With a sinful smirk he inched the nightdress higher, exposing more of your thighs. The tips of his calloused fingers grazed your bare hip, relishing how you shuddered at the intimate caress.

"So soft…Have you any idea how long I've waited to get my hands on this sweet body?" Rafe's husky voice dripped with lust.

With tantalizing slowness, he urged you back onto the plush mattress. The silk sheets enveloped your bare skin as Rafe's solid frame covered yours. His mouth found the frantic pulse at your throat, nipping and sucking a mark into the tender flesh.

Rafe's strong hands glided up to cup your breasts through the thin nightdress, thumbs teasing your nipples into stiff peaks. The sensation tore a gasp from your lips, only encouraging him further. Grinning wolfishly, Rafe ground his pelvis down, letting you feel the rigid length of his cock straining against his trousers.

"Feel what you do to me, sweetheart…You're mine now, to take whenever and however I please." His hungry gaze devoured you, eyes burning with lust and primal need. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you're mine…"

A shudder tore through your frame at the feel of Rafe's hardness grinding against your thigh. Your wide eyes flickered between desire and apprehension as his hands slid higher, rucking up the diaphanous nightdress to bare more of your skin.

"So perfect…and all mine," Rafe rasped, ducking his head to capture one nipple between his teeth. You gasped at the exquisite sting, every nerve in your body hyper aware of his Rough palms gliding over your skin. As his mouth blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your quivering stomach, your nails bit into his shoulders.

"Rafe, I—" Your breathy protest was cut off with a squeak as his fingers hooked into your lacy smallclothes, tearing them off in one smooth motion.

"Shh…just feel, princess." Rafe's smirk was pure sin, eyes blazing cobalt as he nudged your thighs apart. The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy tore a strangled cry from your lips. Without mercy, be he devoured you, growling his satisfaction as your hips rocked unbidden against the delicious onslaught.

"Let me hear how much you want this." Rafe's rasping words vibrated against your aching core. Your head thrashed wildly on the pillows, coherent thought lost in a haze of overwhelming sensation. Soon you were re keening and trembling on the brink, utterly at his mercy.

The look of utter surrender in your eyes stoked the fire in Rafe's blood. His tongue lashed your stiff clit as you trembled, thighs clenching around his shoulders. So close now, teetering on the edge.

Rafe slid two thick fingers into your slick folds, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. You wailed, arching violently as your orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned as your pussy walls clenched and spasmed around his pumping fingers, milking them greedily.

Grinning wolfishly, Rafe rose up over you. His heated gaze raked over your flushed, perspiring body as you came down from the high of ecstasy. "That's just a preview, darling," he rasped, fingers swiftly unlacing his trousers to free his straining cock. "Now for the main event…"

With a groan, Rafe buried himself balls-deep in one swift stroke. So tight, so wet and hot for him. He gave you no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace right from the start. Your legs locked around his pistoning hips instinctively. Your broken cries sent a vicious thrill through him.

Rafe fisted his hand in your damp curls, yanking to expose the delicate curve of your throat. His teeth sank into the tender flesh, marking what was his. "Tell me you belong to me now. Say it."

When you only whimpered and clawed at his sweat-slick back, Rafe snarled. His arms caged you in, hips snapping harder. "Say it!"

You yelp and wince when he pulls your hair whimpering and burying your face in the crook of his neck still shaking from the force and intensity of your soft lips part to whimper out.

"I’m yours, only yours Rafe…" just barely above a whisper

Your hands grip his shoulders for support, your body limps under his as you pant softly raising your hips to meet his powerful thrusts.

Rafe gentled his hold in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in reward. You were learning. His other hand slid under your hips, angling them up to take him deeper on each brutal thrust. Your breathy pants and cries were music to his ears.

"That's it, good girl," he panted gruffly. Your compliance pleased him, stroked his dominance. He could feel your body gradually yielding, soft thighs parting wider, hands clutching him instead of pushing away. Rafe kept a relentless pace, pounding into your tight pussy as the headboard slammed against the stone wall. His mouth found yours, swallowing your whimpers in a ravaging kiss.

When he finally spilled with a shout, Rafe made certain to grind against your aching clit, determined to drag you over the peak with him. As you shattered again with a broken wail, he groaned his satisfaction. Your mingled release soaked the sheets beneath you. Rafe remained buried inside your trembling body, chest heaving he stared down at you with possessive intensity burning in his eyes.

"You're mine forever now, Never forget who owns you…"

Your head falls back breathing raggedly, wincing at the burning pain between your thighs. Your body feels used and exhausted. You blink slowly staring up at him with glazed eyes. You knew that your life would never be the same. That this man..this husband of yours would use your body as he pleased from now on. That intense stare of possession makes you shy away, turning your head and closing your eyes.

He grinned wolfishly as you shyly turned your face away, unable to meet his intense gaze a moment longer. Rafe didn't mind; your demure submission pleased him, as did the colorful marks and love bites his rough passion had left on your throat and breasts. His little wife was well and truly his now. Rafe gentled his hold, fingers almost tender as they brushed the damp curls back from your temple. He pressed a chaste kiss there before murmuring gruffly, "Sleep now, You've earned your rest tonight."

He grinned against your heated skin as you gave a whimper of relief. Gathering you close against his chest, Rafe settled you amidst the rumpled sheets. One leg draped possessively over yours, holding you pinned beneath him as his hand splayed wide over your belly. You were caught, well and truly.

As your breaths evened out in exhausted slumber, Rafe nuzzled into your tousled hair with a satisfied noise.

Early morning sunlight filtered into the lavishly appointed bedchamber, sitting up, you drew the silk bedding around your bare form as you gazed around the empty room. Aside from yourself, there was no evidence Prince Rafe had even been there save the lingering ache between your thighs. You couldn't deny a pang of disappointment he hadn't lingered to greet you this morning. Then again, perhaps it was for the best; after last night you felt uncertain how to act around your new husband.

With a sigh, you rose and donned a silk robe left draped across a nearby chaise. You made your way to the window overlooking the palace grounds, hoping the fresh sea air might clear your mind. Your thoughts drifted back to the prior evening. This marriage would require much patience and understanding on both your parts.You nurtured a glimmer of hope. With time and care, perhaps you and Rafe could build something beautiful.

After taking a moment to appreciate the ocean view, you turned and began getting ready for the day ahead. You dressed yourself in a pale blue gown left for you, simple yet elegant. After tidying your hair you ventured out into the opulent hallway in search of familiar faces.

It wasn't long before you happened upon Sarah, Wheezie, and Kiara chatting together in one of the palace's lush sitting rooms. You hesitated in the doorway, suddenly feeling shy. But Wheezie looked up and broke into a delighted smile.

"Y/N! You're finally awake, come join us!" The young girl bounded over to catch your hands, leading you inside. Sarah and Kiara both greeted you warmly as you settled onto a sofa beside them.

"We were hoping you'd surface today," Sarah said with a knowing smile. "After the…activities of last night."

You felt your cheeks heat at the implication and Kiara swatted Sarah's arm. "Oh leave her be, I'm sure she doesn't want to dwell on all that." Kiara's kind eyes settled on you. "How are you feeling today?"

You offered a shy smile. "Still a bit overwhelmed, I suppose. This is all so new." your gaze drifted around the elegant room and you exhaled. "I don't think it's fully sunk in yet that I live here now."

Wheezie took your hand, giving it an excited squeeze. "Isn't the palace marvelous? I can give you a full tour later if you'd like."

You laughed softly at the girl's enthusiasm. "I would enjoy that very much, thank you Wheezie." you felt yourself relaxing, warmth swelling in your chest to be surrounded by supportive faces both old and new. Whatever uncertainties awaited in this unfamiliar life, at least you needn't face them alone.

You smile and say "So..um..did you three hear much noise last night?" you asked embarrassed.

Wheezie tilts her head confused but Kiara and Sarah exchange a look, Kiara says "These walls are quite thick don't worry" she reassures.

Sarah smirks and says "I'm sure my dear brother was a perfect gentleman" sarcasm in her voice,

You felt your cheeks flush hotly at Sarah's teasing remark. You cleared your throat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously.

"Well…I mean, of course everything was proper," You stammered, avoiding direct eye contact. In truth, Rafe had been anything but a gentleman once you were alone together. The memories made you shift in your seat.

Kiara shot Sarah a scolding look before turning a sympathetic gaze on you. "I'm sure your first night together was an adjustment. But you know you can talk to us about anything, right? We're here for you."

You nodded, giving your hand a supportive squeeze. "Don't let my scoundrel brother intimidate you. He may act the rogue, but you have a strength in you as well. I saw it at your wedding." Sarah's eyes were earnest. "You're family now. We'll help you figure each other out."

You nodded, offering a small but grateful smile. Perhaps in time you would feel comfortable opening up about the complicated feelings Rafe stirred in you, the exhilaration and uncertainty. But for now, his vulnerabilities were yours to guard.

Wheezie, bless her smiled brightly. "I'm so happy you're my new sister! We're going to have such fun together."

You laughed softly, warmth swelling in your chest. With Sarah and Kiara's wisdom and Wheezie's sweet spirit, you knew you could face this daunting new future. You were no longer alone.

Just then, the head housemaid approaches the women, curtsying politely. "Pardon me, Your Highnesses, but His Majesty King Ward has requested Princess Lila's presence for a private brunch on the veranda. Shall I inform the kitchens to begin preparations?"

You blink in surprise but nod to the maid. "Yes, please let the king know I would be honored to join him." You turn back to the other ladies after the maid departs. "Well, it seems my father-in-law wishes to speak with me alone. I suppose I should change into something more proper." You stand a bit nervously. This would be your first real interaction with the imposing monarch.

"Father can seem intimidating but he appreciates sincerity. And don't let him bully you into anything you're uncomfortable with."

You bid farewell to your friends and made your way back to the bedchambers to ready yourself for the impending brunch with King Ward. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as you mulled over what he could want to discuss in private.

After freshening up, you carefully selected an elegant mint green day dress with billowing elbow-length sleeves from the wardrobe. You style your hair in a simple yet tidy braided updo and affix a minimal amount of jewelry - a delicate silver pendant necklace and teardrop pearl earrings. A hint of rose gloss on your lips completed the refined look.

Smoothing the skirts of your dress, You exhaled a steadying breath as you regarded your reflection. You hoped your attire properly conveyed the right mix of grace and poise while still retaining your own simple style. As you made your way through the opulent halls towards the veranda, you tried to quell the butterflies in your stomach. You had no reason to be so nervous; after all, you would one day be queen beside Rafe. Proving yourself an able partner who could hold your own was crucial.

Upon arriving at the sunny veranda, you were greeted by the sight of King Ward already seated at a table lavishly arrayed with brunch fare. At your approach, he stood and offered a formal bow.

"Princess Y/N, thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, sit."

You dipped into a curtsy before taking the seat opposite Ward. you met his gaze evenly, resolving to show no weakness. This may be just a brunch, but you sensed the king was assessing your mettle. You would rise to the challenge.

"The honor is mine, Your Majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure of this private audience?" Your tone was polite yet confident. The gleam in Ward's eye told you this was exactly his intent - to take your measure beyond the pomp and flair of the wedding. You straightened your spine, ready to prove your worth.

Ward looks at you curiously before taking a sip of his tea "I wished to speak with you privately, away from the commotion of the palace to get to know my new daughter in law better. This marriage was quick and sudden, but binding our families will be good for the kingdom." He explains.

"Now.." he folds his hands on the table and looks at you intently "Tell me about yourself Y/N, what are your interests?" He asks kindly, wanting to understand your personality and character better.

You relaxed slightly at Ward's polite small talk, offering a gracious smile as you prepared your tea. "Of course, Your Majesty. I appreciate you taking the time to get to know me better outside of all the wedding bustle."

You take a thoughtful sip of your tea before continuing. "Well, I've always enjoyed reading and learning whenever I can. Our library at home was my favorite place to spend long afternoons." A wistful look crosses your face at the memories.

"I also love music - singing, playing the harpsichord. Art and photography are passions of mine as well. Capturing a moment of beauty to appreciate again and again." Your eyes brighten describing your hobbies.

"But I also recognize the importance of being an active participant in the community. I assisted our local orphanage regularly and enjoyed volunteering at functions." You meet Ward's gaze. "I believe those in positions of privilege have an obligation to use their place to aid others. I hope to continue that here."

You pause, glancing at Ward hesitantly. "I know I have much to learn when it comes to politics and courtly matters. But I'm eager to play my role serving the people, and to support Rafe's reign as a strong partner."

You fold your hands in your lap. "I may seem simple on the surface, but I have layers yet to be uncovered. Given time, I know I could thrive here as a princess." You kept your chin lifted, showing sincerity and determination in the face of Ward's intense scrutiny.

Ward considers your words carefully, looking thoughtful as he sips his tea. Finally he sets down his cup and leans back in his seat, steepling his fingers.

"A commendable answer. You show wisdom beyond your years, Y/N, as well as a refreshing earnestness." One corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Far better than the vapid socialites I feared Rafe might foist upon us."

You had to suppress a smile at Ward's dry humor. The king regards you keenly.

"My son has always followed his passions, often recklessly. He will need a partner of substance who can balance his…impulsiveness, and check his wilder whims. From our limited interactions, I believe you may have the mettle needed to temper his nature, in time."

He tilts his head, eyes assessing. "The question is, do you have the will? Rafe can be stubborn, even cruel when provoked. This role will require patience and resilience.

You meet Ward's gaze levelly. "I understand the challenges, Your Majesty. But I intend to face them. Rafe may be impulsive, but he needs compassion to steady him, not control." You keep your voice firm but respectful. "I believe we can forge something stronger together."

Ward stares at you pensively before cracking the barest smile. "Well said. Perhaps you are the making of each other." He lifts his teacup in salute. "I look forward to seeing what unfolds between you two. The road will not be smooth, but you strike me as a girl who finishes what she starts."

You dip your head graciously at the veiled praise, hope blooming in your chest. If you can earn even this guarded man's approval, perhaps you truly have a chance to thrive in this strange new home.

After the brunch you go for a walk around the palace grounds, you hum softly looking at all the flowers. You find a bench under a willow tree near the royal cemetery. Sitting down you close your eyes enjoying the warm breeze. After a little while you hear leaves crunching behind you and turn to see Rafe approaching. His hair is windswept, eyes tired, and his shirt is half unbuttoned. He looks stressed about something. Noticing you sitting there he stops and sighs running a hand through his messy hair. "oh..hey.." he greets plainly, unsure what to say.

You look up in surprise as Rafe approaches, taking in his disheveled appearance and the tension in his frame. You offer a tentative smile. "Hello. Enjoying the gardens as well?"

Rafe drags a hand through his already tousled hair, gaze darting away almost guiltily. "Yeah…I just needed some air. Place was feeling a bit stifling."

You nod in understanding, gesturing to the empty space on the bench. After a pause, Rafe settles beside you, though his posture remains rigid. Silence stretches between them, the atmosphere oddly awkward after the passion you had shared.

Wanting to break the tension, You glance sidelong at Rafe. "I had an interesting brunch with your father this morning. He…seems satisfied with me as your choice of wife." You keep your tone light, hoping Rafe will open up about what's troubling him.

He snorts softly. "Of course he scrutinized you. The great King Ward misses nothing." There's an edge of bitterness to his words. Rafe's shoulders slump slightly as he gazes out at the sun-dappled lawn, tension leaking from his frame.

"I know you two barely know each other. This whole situation is less than ideal." He rakes another hand through his hair, messing the dirty blonde strands. When he looks back at you, his eyes are troubled. "I just hope…well, that you can find some happiness here. Despite my family's meddling."

Your expression softens the sincerity in his words. Gently, you rest your hand atop his where it rests on his knee. "This may have begun unusually, but the future remains unwritten. We have a say in what happens now."

Rafe's eyes widen slightly at your touch, but he doesn't pull away. Tentatively he turns his palm up to lace your fingers, the gesture intimate.

Your heart flutters hopefully. Perhaps your new husband isn't as aloof as he pretends. You sit in more comfortable silence for a moment, hands entwined, gazing out at the peaceful view.

Finally Rafe clears his throat gruffly. "We should head back soon. But…thank you, for understanding." He squeezes your hand gently before releasing it and standing. The air between you feels lighter somehow as you head back to the palace together.

You nod and stand up, smoothing out your dress. You smile softly up at him "Of course..I know this is all still new." As you walk you tentatively slip your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze.

When you reach the palace doors Rafe pulls his hand away abruptly, his face becoming cold and distant again. "I have business to attend to..I will see you later at dinner." He mutters before walking off not waiting for a response.

You watch him hurry off confused and a little hurt by his sudden aloofness again after the tender moment you just shared. Biting your lip anxiously you head inside to find Kiara and Sarah, hoping they can provide some insight on Rafe’s mercurial moods.

Making your way through the lavish corridors, you eventually locate Sarah and Kiara chatting in one of the palace sitting rooms. They both greet you cheerfully, but their smiles fade at your obvious distress.

"What's wrong? You look upset about something," Kiara asks in concern, guiding you to sit beside her on an embroidered settee.

You smooth your skirt, unsure how much to confide about your mercurial new spouse. "I'm just…having some difficulty figuring Rafe out. One moment he seems open and tender, the next he's cool and distant."

Sarah nods knowingly. "Yes, my dear brother has always been moody. Passionate one instant, petulant the next." She pats your hand. "Try not to take it personally. Rafe has trouble reconciling his heart and his duties."

"He's under immense pressure as future king," Kiara adds sympathetically. "It likely makes him feel vulnerable, so he compensates by being remote."

You consider this, comforted by your friends' wisdom. Perhaps Rafe's moodiness stemmed from feeling inadequate, not indifference toward you.

Sarah smiles encouragement. "Keep being patient and meeting him where he's at, Y/N. In time, he'll realize you're a safe place to share his burdens."

Kiara agrees. "Just show compassion and understanding. Your open heart is your greatest gift."

You smile, buoyed by their sisterly advice. If Rafe is skittish of closeness, you would have to coax him out gently, not take his distance personally. Your future depended on bridging this chasm, no matter how long it took.

You smile gratefully "You both give such wise counsel, I don't know what I'd do without you." you say sincerely.

Sarah waves a hand "Oh please, what are friends for? Besides putting conceited brothers in their place that is." She jokes, making you laugh.

"Would you both accompany me to dinner tonight? Having you close by keeps me calm when I have to interact with Rafe and his family. It's all still so intimidating." you admit.

Kiara loops your arms together. "Of course! We'll be right by your side the whole night." She reassures you.

Sarah nods in agreement. "Rafe may be stubborn but he'll come around. In the meantime, we'll make sure you feel welcome here."

Your eyes mist over with gratitude at their unconditional support. With such true friends at your side, you feel able to endure Rafe's unpredictability and find your place in this unfamiliar world.

You spend the afternoon with Sarah and Kiara, their lighthearted company bolstering your spirits after your confusing encounter with Rafe. By the time evening falls and you make your way to the grand dining hall, You feel much more centered and calm with your two dear friends accompanying you.

As you enter the spacious hall, You instinctively seek out Rafe's tall form. Your husband stands stiffly beside King Ward near the head of the table, face an impassive mask. But you notice faint circles under his eyes, hinting at his inner turmoil.

Sarah gives your arm a subtle, reassuring squeeze as you take your seats. Kiara offers an encouraging smile from your other side. Bolstered by their quiet support, You straighten your spine and meet Rafe's shuttered gaze evenly when it drifts your way. You will not cower from his moods.

Dinner passes uneventfully, full of empty courtly pleasantries you have little patience for. Throughout the meal, you make subtle attempts to catch Rafe's eye, hoping to convey mute understanding across the table. But he remains withdrawn, jaw tense as he interacts minimally with the guests.

Your heart sinks at his continued distance, but you refuse to let it show. When the meal concludes, you excuse yourself politely before exiting the hall, chin held high. Your friends move to follow, but you still them with a slight shake of your head.

"Stay, enjoy the festivities. I just need some time alone to clear my head." At their understanding nods, You gather your skirts and make your way out into the moonlit gardens.

The fresh night air soothes you as you find that stone bench under a willow tree again. You tilt your face up to the stars, seeking guidance. Patience and empathy were your only weapons against Rafe's barricades. You could not force him to meet you halfway. Sighing softly, You close your eyes and make a silent wish upon the moon. Bring down your walls, my guarded prince. Let me inside.

As you sit peacefully under the stars, you gradually become aware of footsteps approaching on the garden path. You open your eyes to see Rafe striding towards you, still dressed in his formal dinner attire. He looks surprised to see you there.

"Oh..I didn't realize you'd be out here," he remarks, seeming conflicted about whether to stay or turn back. After a brief hesitation, he moves to sit beside you on the bench, staring straight ahead into the darkness.

"I suppose I don't blame you for wanting to escape that dreadful affair either," he mutters, mouth twisting wryly. "The noble court can be rather insufferable."

You study his tense profile curiously. There is obviously something he wants to express, but is struggling to find the words for. You decide to take a gentle approach.

"The night sky is quite beautiful here. I enjoy having this serene place to collect my thoughts when things feel…overwhelming." You keep your tone soft, hoping he might open up.

Rafe's jaw works, eyes fixed ahead. Several moments of tense silence pass before he speaks again, voice low. "I… apologize for my poor company today. You deserve better from your husband." He finally meets your gaze, remorse flickering in his eyes.

Your expression softens. Gently, you reach over to cover his hand with yours in a gesture of understanding. "I know this transition has been challenging for us both. But we will figure it out, together."

Rafe's eyes widen slightly at your easy forgiveness. After a beat, he turns his palm over to tentatively lace your fingers. You feel your heart lift as Rafe opens up, however hesitantly. You give his hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze, hoping he will continue.

After another strained silence, Rafe drags his free hand through his hair, leaving it endearingly mussed. "I just…I want to be the man they need me to be. My father, the kingdom." He lifts his eyes to the moon.

You feel your heart swell as Rafe opens up, the ice in his gaze melting to reveal vulnerability beneath. You give his hand another encouraging squeeze.

"It's alright, you don't have to be perfect. Just be yourself." Rafe sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I wish it were that simple. But certain things are expected of me, duties I can't shirk." His shoulders slump under the invisible weight.

You nod in understanding. "I know. But you don't have to carry it all alone. I'm here now, to listen and support you. We're partners in this." You trail your thumb over his knuckles, hoping he understands you won't abandon him to his burdens.

Rafe turns to look at you fully, eyes searching yours. He seems startled to find only sincerity and care reflected back at him. "You deserve a medal for putting up with me," he says wryly, but gratitude shines through the humor.

You just smile. "I don't need medals, just your word you won't shut me out again."

Rafe considers your request, then nods solemnly. "You have it. Thank you for…being you." He gives your hand a gentle, meaningful squeeze.

You share a tender smile under the moonlight, the air between you lighter somehow. There is hope for you yet if you continue reaching out in understanding. You know the road won't be easy, but you're willing to walk it with this complicated man who is now your partner. With patience and care, your arranged union could blossom into something real. For now, this moment of connection beneath the stars feels like a promising start.

You smile softly and say "Of course, that's what partners are for. Now…" You stand up smoothing your dress. "Why don't we go for a walk? The gardens are beautiful at night." You suggest wanting to spend more relaxing quality time with him.

Rafe runs a hand through his hair and smiles a little. "I'd like that." He agrees and stands up, offering his arm to you politely.

You loop your arm through his and you begin walking at a leisurely pace admiring the flowers and fountains illuminated by moonlight.

For a time you simply walk in comfortable silence, appreciating the nocturnal blooms and gently babbling fountains surrounding them. You breathe deeply, filling your lungs with the sweet floral scents on the night breeze. After being cooped up in the palace much of the day, it feels freeing to be outside enjoying nature's beauty.

You sneak a glance at Rafe and find the tension gone from his features, replaced by a look of contentment. His eyes seem brighter beneath the stars, and the hints of a smile play at his lips. Seeing him relaxed and unguarded makes your heart flutter with hope.

Eventually Rafe's voice breaks the silence. "Thank you for this. I can't remember the last time I just…existed, without pressures and duties weighing me down."

You smile. "Of course. We all need room to breathe." Timidly you reach over to give his hand a gentle squeeze. Rafe glances down in surprise but doesn't pull away.

The moment feels suspended in time, just the two of you and the hushed music of the garden. You wished you could stay here forever, away from the complications of family and royalty. But for now, this stolen moment of tranquility together feels like a step toward healing.

Keeping your hand covering his, you scoot a little closer, your sides now pressed together.You rest your head on his shoulder tentatively.

"Can we just stay out here a little longer? I don't want this moment to end.." You whisper not wanting the peaceful feeling to disappear once you have to go back inside.

Rafe looks down at you surprised by the contact but doesn't move away. The scent of your floral perfume surrounds him, making his heart skip. No one has shown him such tenderness before. Slowly he rests his head against yours.

"Just a little longer.." He agrees quietly, closing his eyes. For now all the stresses and responsibilities melt away as you sit together under the stars. He wishes he could freeze this feeling and live in it forever.

Rafe's thumb strokes over your knuckles, touch feather-light. The caress sends a thrill through you even as it soothes. You angle yourself closer, memorizing his warmth, his scent, the rhythm of his breathing. This gentle side of him feels like a gift, one you will safeguard.

The hour grows late, the moon sinking low. Reluctantly you lift your head, meeting Rafe's drowsy gaze. "We should head back," you murmur. He nods, reluctance shadowing his eyes. But the new bond between you remains as you slowly rise and retrace your steps out of the garden. Whatever comes next, you will face it together.

As you reluctantly make your way back inside the silent palace hand in hand. Pausing outside your bed chamber door you turn to him. "Thank you for tonight..I haven't felt this content in a long time." You admit with a soft smile.

Rafe rubs the back of his neck "Yeah..me too.." Glancing around awkwardly to make sure no one is around he takes both your hands in his. "Y/N I…I know this whole situation is less than ideal..but I'm grateful to have you as my wife. You've shown me more care and patience than anyone." He says sincerely, gazing into your eyes. "I'll try to be the man you deserve from now on.." He promises softly.

You blink back tears, deeply moved. "All I want is for you to be yourself. The rest we'll figure out together." You offer a tremulous smile.

Rafe searches your face before nodding slowly. Still clasping one of your hands, he reaches up to tenderly tuck a loose curl behind your ear. The affectionate gesture makes your breath hitch.

"Together," Rafe repeats. He starts to lean in, then hesitates. Your eyes flutter closed in tacit permission. A moment later, the barest brush of his lips grazes your cheek in a feather-light kiss.

As Rafe pulls back, your eyes open to find him watching you, desire and uncertainty mingling in his gaze. You give his hand one more squeeze in reassurance before slipping inside your room.

Alone in the darkness, You press a hand to your tingling cheek. Tonight was a turning point for you guys, you feel it. With open hearts, this arranged union just might transform into a true marriage.

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medusapelagia · 1 month

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14 The betrothal

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Lake), @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: prince and princess ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Hand Kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: omegaverse, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Beta Robin Buckley, violence, blood and injuries, vomit Words: 1563

If Steve was a proper omega he wouldn't be on that stupid carriage, to be shipped from Loch Nora's Kingdom to Forest Park like an unwanted pack.

A proper omega would honor his family, stay home, cross-stitch animals and flowers, and learn poems and music. But Steve never was a proper omega and after he rejected his last suitor his father told him that he wasted his last opportunity to choose a proper alpha and that he was going to find one willing to take in a rebel omega like him.

Male omegas are a blessing and a curse: they are very rare, so Steve's father was able to ask for a high dowry from whoever wanted to marry him, but there weren't many alphas willing to tie their life to a male omega.

Steve has heard talking about Forest Park. A lot. And never in a good way.

They have a very bad reputation, but they are rich, so Steve has no doubt that his father got a really good dowry for selling him to those people. Well, not selling, betrothing him.

Thankfully, Robin is coming with him. Moving from one Kingdom to another and being completely alone would have been terrible, at least his beta best friend is trying to make him laugh by making silly comments and distract him from the long journey.

Even if the carriage is big and cozy, spending hours sitting on a carriage isn't that comfortable, and Steve's royal ass is in pain.

He doesn't even have enough space to stretch his long legs because in the carriage with them, there are the two guards King Munson himself sent to escort the future bride.

The guards are heavily armed, as they were expecting something to happen, and Steve isn't totally surprised. After all, Forest Hill has a terrible reputation. Their King was an outlaw before he rebelled and became king by killing everyone and conquering the castle, so Steve isn't really looking forward to moving in the same bed with a notorious assassin. But it’s not his choice anymore.

Savages, that's the kindest word Steve’s mom used to define those people, while what everyone thought but none dared to speak out loud was that King Munson was the new Warlord.

A warlord. Not a high-born, just a man with enough power and money to hire the strongest knight and mercenaries to help him keep his power. And Steve is going to get married to a Warlord’s son, or nephew, he's not really sure. Bloodlines are mixed in their Kingdom and they don't give a fuck about dynasties and the only blood that they care about is the one the blood spit by their enemies.

Steve has heard terrible stories about how cruel and violent those people are. One of Steve's servants has told him that Prince Munson killed his first wife with his own hands because she wasn't too sick to give him a child.

Being a male omega Steve knows he can bear pups, even if his heats are irregular and it's harder for him than for other omegas, but he never thought that the ability to bear a child or not could have been the cause of his premature death.

His scent gets sour and acrid while he thinks about the monster that he's supposed to wed. Maybe he should have been more pliant with his previous suitor. Lord Hagan wasn’t that bad after all. A little bit too presumptuous for Steve’s taste but he doubts he would have had him killed if he wasn’t able to bear a child.

"You ok? Do you want to take a break? Stretch your legs a bit?" Robin proposes, drawing soothing circles with her thumb on Steve's hand.

"Yeah, that would be nice." He confirms, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"No break and no stretching. We are still in hostile territory." One of the guards replies without even looking at Steve.

"Couldn't we stop just for a moment?" Robin insists, "We have been on this stupid carriage for hours!"

But an arrow flying through the window and ending his journey a few inches from her face makes her shut up.

"Stay down!" One guard yells, yanking Steve toward the carriage’s floor so abruptly that he falls badly on his own wrist, spraining it, but he doesn't have time to yelp because the carriage stops in the middle of the woods.

"Stay inside!" The first guard yells, jumping out of the carriage and drawing his sword. For a moment Steve catches a glimpse of a bloodied body staring blankly at him with a long arrow in the one eye socket.

"It's ok. It's ok." Robin tries to soothe him, releasing beta relaxing pheromones, but the other guard stops her, complaining that he can't afford to get relaxed by her pheromones, so Steve and Robin hug each other, trying to hide themselves from the attackers.

"He's here!" Someone yells, kicking the carriage door open, but the second guard is quick to pierce the intruder from side to side, what he wasn't expecting was someone else opening the door on the opposite side and grabbing Steve with no kindness, yanking him by his hair.

Robin screams, reaching out toward Steve, the guard turns his head just for a moment and another attacker takes his chance to stab him in the leg while Robin keeps screaming, but the clenching of the metal armor is so loud that Steve almost can't hear her.

A strong hit on the back of his head makes everything turn a warm black and he loses consciousness.

***

When he opens his eyes, Steve is surprised to find himself resting with his back against a big oak tree. In front of him the bluest lake he ever saw.

He puts down his hand, trying to get up, but immediately desists when a bright pain makes him whimper.

"I would stay put if I were you. Your wrist is sprained and you took a nasty hit to the head. Are you feeling dizzy?"

Steve startles, looking around himself, and finally finds a tall man with dark eyes and a nasty scar on his face staring at him with an amused smile.

His kidnapper!

The omega tries to crawl backward, but the unknown man is right, his wrist hurts too much and he still feels lightheaded.

"I think I'm going to puke…" he mutters, before turning on his side and emptying his stomach on the green grass.

Surprisingly, his kidnapper is quickly at his side, holding his hair out of his face, whispering encouraging words while he holds him to his chest with one arm.

When Steve's body gets limp into the kidnapper's arms, he takes a moment to breathe in his scent.

Embers and earth.

An alpha.

A proper omega should never be left alone with an alpha who's not family!

Steve tries to wriggle out of the stranger's hold, but he gently chuckles and pushes Steve's neck closer to the scent gland on his neck, "You're fine, omega. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm betrothed." He objects in a soft voice, while the alpha pheromones make him pliant and docile.

"That's what you're worried about? your honor?" The unknown alpha chuckles.

He has a nice laugh, Steve decided in his drugged state of mind, and he smells delicious. No other alpha ever smelled so good to him.

Steve must have said something because a very pleased rumble comes from the alpha's chest.

"You don't smell bad yourself, sweetheart."

Steve should be ashamed of himself, but the alpha's sturdy body is holding him tight and for the first time in his life he feels safe in an alpha's embrace.

"That's good. Come on, sip some water for me to wash away that bad taste."

The omega prince doesn't really know if the alpha is using his alpha's voice, or if he's already scentdrunk or whatever, but the only thing he wants to do is obey this alpha.

Steve spits a few times to clean his mouth from the horrible taste and then drinks some water, while the alpha keeps holding him tight.

The man’s wearing a beaten armor, stained with blood, and for a moment Steve wonders if he will kill him, but the way he keeps holding him makes him think that he’s affected by Steve’s scent as he is from his.

They aren't left alone for long. When Steve turns his head someone is riding toward them. Too many people.

Steve turns toward the alpha with eyes wide with worry, "You have to go. My future husband will kill you. He's a warlord! He won't be pleased you kidnapped me!"

"Kidnapped?" The alpha asks, staring with confusion at the omega, feeling Steve's head with gentle fingers, "How badly did they hurt you, omega?" he asks worriedly, and this time is Steve's turn to frown in confusion.

“I might not look so but I’m a prince. And I was on my way to wed the Forest Park’s Warlord's son. If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

Eddie bursts out in a loud laugh, shaking Steve who quietly complains of being jostled by the huge Alpha's body.

"Let me introduce myself," the alpha says, grabbing Steve's uninjured hand and kissing the palm of his hand in the most chivalrous way, "I'm Edward Munson, King Munson's nephew, your betrothal."

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draczrys · 2 months

Note

I know Criston Cole is not who you usually write for and I know he’s not a fan favorite but could you write a Drabble or one shot of Criston Cole x Reader? I love Fabian Frankel and just wish to read something with one of his characters. Much love! 💕

brb just added him to my muse list bc mr fabian is yum & early s1 criston is bearable. and this trope!! my fave medieval theme ever. like wdym i’m not supposed to love a boy w big brown eyes

COURTLY LOVE. ❨ criston cole x reader ❩

the standing of a riverland lord's youngest daughter was nothing of note to the realm. little to inherit, a pitiful dowry, barely a suitor at the door. so, the seven must have blessed you the day queen aemma requested your presence at court. the princess was of age now, and in need of ladies in waiting of noble birth.

suddenly, the world was a different place. thrown into the deep end of the red keep, you had all the dresses you wished for and every suitor at court vying for your hand in marriage. no longer just an unknown lady, but a lady of the crown. still, there wasn't a single lord or son that caught your eye. not since you saw him.

"... ser criston cole!"

your breath had caught in your throat as the young knight shed his helmet and blinked up to the royal box, respects paid to the king before he looks to you.

"i would like to ask for your lady's favour, if she would be so kind," he spoke, voice smooth, eyes never leaving your own. if it weren't for rhaenyra's elbow in your side, you're sure you would have stared all day.

"best of luck, ser," comes your wishes, leaning over the wooden rail to drop your favour over his joust. you had spent a whole day on it, the princess on her's too, weaving daisies and lavender into a pretty ring. "i hope that you win."

"as do i," criston muses, smirking. "if it means speaking with you again, my lady."

a blush burns at your cheeks, hurrying to sit back down. you ignore rhaenyra's teasing and watch the knight mount his horse, readying himself for the competition. he knocks down lord after lord, knight after knight, even defeating prince daemon. the heat in your chest has your heart beating quicker, head somewhat hazy as you watch on in delight.

the chaos of a tourney day sweeps you up from your daydreaming, ushered behind the princess to dress her for the feast. though she speaks to you as you braid her hair, it's barely audible past the heavy thoughts of the knight in your ears. eventually, when rhaenyra is summoned to her mother, you find the time to catch your breath in an empty hallway. leaning against the cold stone, your eyes squeeze shut to urge any romantic ideas from your mind.

"my good luck charm."

the sudden voice startles you, turning quickly to ready yourself in defence. but there, only a few steps away, is your knight. for a moment, you think he's talking about you. noting your furrowed brows and slightly cocked head, he raises the favour you had gifted into view.

"ah," you breathe out, a smile growing on your lips. "i'm glad it was of use."

criston mirrors your smile, steps closing the space between you, his armour clinking as it still rests on his bones. his arm reaches out, offering the flowered ring back to you. "it is custom the knight returns the favour to the lady, if they have survived."

glancing at the branches and petals your hands had tirelessly woven, then back to the warm eyes that watch you so carefully, that strange feeling creeps back into your chest. you shake your head.

"keep it," you urge, cheeks rounding. "perhaps it will bring you luck again."

cole's brows raise, interest obviously piqued at your suggestion. his smile turns crooked, eyes sparkling with a life you'd only seen outside of the walls of the keep.

"and will you be present, again? in case it is you, and not the favour, that has blessed me." his tongue is playful and teasing, but his eyes hold a sincerity you daren't question.

"i cannot promise my presence to be so virtuous." you giggle breathily, eyes darting to the ground for a moment to spare yourself the dizziness that comes from his gaze. "and i should--"

"a kiss then."

the blunt but hopeful proposition snaps your eyes back to him, unsure of whether to be more shocked, offended or delighted. criston smirks, obviously enjoying your surprise. "as a precaution, of course."

stomach jumping with nerves, heart dancing with excitement, you watch his eyes carefully in an attempt to gauge whether he was taunting you or not. but no, still only genuine.

shuffling forward, close enough now, you slowly stretch upwards onto your tiptoes. eyes locked, your lips journeying closer to his cheek - slightly stubbled, but littered with freckles. they barely brush his skin before he turns his head, quicker than you can notice, replacing his cheek with his lips.

the surprise that overtakes you is quickly subdued by the sweet taste of his kiss. his lips soft, just relishing in yours. not desperate or rough as you had seen with older lords and ladies, but delicate and kind. he only parts when he feels you swoon a little in his arms, smiling against the aftertaste of the kiss. breathless, you look at each other, caught up in the warmth between you.

"my lady," criston murmurs, stepping back from your space when he hears the distant patter of feet. bowing at the waist, his eyes still linger on your own. "until next time."

#⚔️ ﹐ writings.#ser criston #criston cole #criston cole x reader #criston cole x you #criston cole imagine #criston cole drabble #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd x reader #fabien frankel #fabien frankel x reader

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garagesesh · 3 months

Text

HOTD headcanons

I can hear the bells // p. 2 & p. 1

gif source

⤷ pairing(s): aemond targaryen x reader, s*r criston cole x reader, jacaerys velaryon x reader

⤷ warning(s): unplanned pregnancy, angst, criston cole

⤷ a/n: idk criston cole is fun to write and it helps that he’s pretty, this isn’t my favorite work and I’m sure I’ll rewrite someday but I wanted to get it out now before my vacay

masterlist

―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―

★ aemond targaryen

You are not a highborn lady or any type of Targaryen or Velaryon Princess, you met Aemond in the bowels of Flea Bottom at a tavern by chance, not knowing who he was. The two of you connected, talking until dawn about adventure and the history of Valyria

Aemond was charmed by your ignorance of his standing in society, reveling in the secret but simple life affair

It wasn’t two months later that you figured it out. A gold cloak addresses him by his title out in the streets in a tavern. You’re not thrilled by this revelation and in fact swear to never see him again but he’s persistent, determined to keep you

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to resume your relationship and suddenly-

You’re pregnant a year into your affair with the one-eyed prince, he was overjoyed with the news but you were scared he was going to abandon you like his elder brother had done time and time again

You call him mad and laugh, thinking it's some sort of cruel jest when he confesses his intent to marry you and make you royalty. He will not raise a bastard, he says as you kick him out of your small one room

It takes a month before you finally accept his proposal, it took sleepless nights and worried days before finally talking yourself into his idea as a good one

There are no flowers except the ones he brought you at dawn on your wedding day, it is a warm sunny morning when you both enter the sept of Baelor, a skeptical high septon, and his sworn guard

It is rushed but Aemond is determined and ready as he swears his vows and barely waits for you to finish your own before kissing you hard

You have never met a dragon before when Aemond takes you before Vhagar and tells you that you’ll be riding south for a fortnight, there is no fear that runs in your veins but excitement

You spend a sennight in Dorne, hidden away from the world, unbeknownst to the wrath awaiting you and Aemond in the Red Keep

Alicent is cold and unwilling to understand the situation. It is not easy or happy meeting for you.

★ criston cole

After the dance of dragons, criston cole is given a choice. To be stripped of his white cloak die within the cells of the Red Keep or to be stripped of his white cloak, return to Dorne and live a quiet life out of the realms politics. Cole chooses the latter, of course. It’s far more kindly than what he assumed would be his fate.

Dorne is not what he remembers it being, it’s dry and vast with little in it’s lands. Cole doesn’t consider this desert his home.

His father was not proud of him, but he needs to still secure the house lineage and secures a marriage pact

As the youngest daughter of house Dayne, you’re not thrilled at the prospect of marrying the fool (one of many nicknames they’ve aptly named Criston in Dorne). You have only heard of the most vile and selfish stories about your now betrothed.

When you first meet Criston Cole, you’re shocked. He’s attractive, his hair has grown out to his shoulders and there’s a scar running down his neck but the weeks leading up to your meeting you had envisioned all sorts of monstrosities, considering you and the realm had decided he was a cruel inept monster

He is quiet and replies with a soft voice, you’re puzzled how the ex-Lord Commander and Hand of the King for the traitor king is gentle. However it is hard to see past what he has done to tear the realm apart

When your wedding day comes around, he replaces your cloak with a rough cloth with colourless dots adorning the back. House Cole is not wealthy and the dowry wasn’t large.

He kisses you well not really. His rough hands squeezes your own gently and barely brushing his lips to your cheek

There is no feast, just a family meal that is supplied well with meat and wine in the gardens well into the evening

The bedding is just like his kiss, hardly anything to recount to your sisters or companions. It isn’t romantic and your sure he doesn’t even finish. You hope that this isn’t what it’ll always be

★ jace velaryon

Growing up alongside your future husband isn’t the norm, but you are glad for it. As many ladies are stuck with brutes and old men for husbands

Jace has matured into a handsome man that you can’t bare to look at without blushing. With every look he gives you, you can’t help but turn your head with cheeks red

But despite your embarrassment, you are both more than excited to finally be married

You opt for a traditional Valyrian wedding, the same as Rhaenyra and Daemon had done. There was no fancy ceremony with cloaks of golden threads, just Jace and you

Sleep did not come the night before, as the excitement and giddiness ran through you like shots of lightning. You couldn’t even feel the exhaustion in your muscles as you readied yourself in the robes and headpiece

Jace could not find sleep himself, as he was too excited as well at the prospect of finally calling you his

Jace’s eyes watered while waiting for you, he choked on his Valyrian as you laughed at his sweet mistake

The kiss wasn’t needy or greedy, but it wasn’t the cordial kiss of the Lords & Ladies of the Seven would display. It was tender and loving and gentle.

The feast was celebrated through the night and full of laughter. When it came to the bedding ceremony, you and Jace instead fell asleep quite quickly in your now shared bed

However the next evening…

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smuttysabina · 1 year

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A Month With Aespa (Ch 1)

(Aespa x Male Reader, 1850 words) Tags: Blowjobs, ownership kink, nice outfits, cum

Many would say that wasting your vast inheritance on such a vulgar thing would be an insult to your grandfather. But you knew the old bastard well enough to know that he would be cackling over how his well-maintained fortune would be wasted. After all, having the entirety of Aespa serve you for a month is worth the immense price that came with such an... indulgence. The gorgeous idols must listen to your every whim, though actions that would bring them lasting harm or hazard their careers were off-limits. The negotiations had been difficult in the extreme, but once enough zeroes had been tacked on to the sales tag the executives had seen reason (Well, that and several of them got vigorously pegged by the maids, the deviants).

So when the promised day comes, the beautiful girls of Aespa arrived at your estate, each of them dressed like dowried princesses. Garbed in elegant gowns, their hair subjected to onerous treatment, bedecked with flashy jewelry, their makeup the work of untold hours. With delicate, measured steps they move down the red carpet towards your (admittedly modest) mansion, eyes locked on the front doors. Looking down at them from the windows above the door, you greedily drink in the heady sight of these idols entering your domain. But it would be a poor host to not welcome such goddesses into your home, and you hurry down to the entryway just as the maids are opening the doors. You greet Aespa with the warmest of smiles, graciously inviting them in and humbly putting yourself at their service. The girls respond with cautious politeness, still not entirely sure as to the exact nature of their stay here.

To ease their minds, you take them on a brief tour of the residence, showing them the more relevant rooms for their stay. You discretely avoid the more... interesting rooms. Grandfather had been quite the randy goat up until his passing, always plowing the maids and relishing in exotic activities with them. So there are more than a few doors in the home that lead to, interesting accoutrements of pleasure. As well as to avoid any awkward revelations, you keep things short as a kindness to the girls, walking about in all that finery is quite exhausting. You end things by their personal rooms for their stay, surely they will want to settle in, and touch up before supper?

The maids give you coy smiles as you watch them prepare a proper meal for your new residents. The Old Man had been fond of helping around the kitchen, and while you ordinarily would honor his memory, you think it wise to show some restraint. After all, you must be at your best for your guests' first meal. Scurrying maids are sent to fetch the idols, no doubt playfully smirking at one another as they gather the girls for their dinner. The ladies enter the dining room in a cavalcade of expense, both in flesh and cloth, as radiant as they were when they first passed through your entryway. Karina in her deep black gown, fringed with lace and concealing her ample bosom; in comparison, Giselle's more modest breasts are on full display, pushed up by shapely dress edged with silver. Winter's attire is as pale as her name, demurely covering her chest while cascading down around her legs. Finally, Ningning is garbed in a dress that puts her lithe legs in the center of attention, while above her breasts are hardly covered as well. The entire ensemble is stunning, truly a feast for the eyes as they array themselves about the table; gracefully sliding onto stools that support their natural poise. You clap your hands, and dinner is served.

A simple three-course meal, supported by some truly excellent wine is laid out for Aespa to enjoy. Comprised mainly of dishes that are unlikely to make a mess (it would hardly be suitable after all the effort they put in for tonight), the ladies dig in with surprising enthusiasm; after all, they will be out of the public's exacting eye until they leave. You entertain them with light conversation, Grandfather didn't raise an uncultured boor after all, gently teasing out details of their lives and helping them relax. Karina leads the conversation, she seems naturally chatty and does a superb job in filling the silence. Giselle serves as a wonderful accompaniment to her, spicing the conversation with saucy stories as well as a healthy helping of sass. The other two, Ningning and Winter, remain mostly quiet throughout, shyly answering questions but rarely sallying forth with their own. After a suitable amount of time has passed (what sort of host would rush his guests?), you politely invite them to the lounge, perhaps they would like a nightcap to round of their meal? They graciously accept, and following you into a perhaps over-decorated parlor (Grandmother had loved her gilt), seating themselves on a pearled couch facing your chair. They sip gingerly at their drinks, enough to be polite but still have control over their senses; eyeing you with expectant curiosity. You had wined and dined them after all, some sort of... appreciation was social implied.

You could hardly be blunt about such things however, even if they were slaved to your whims by contract for the next 31 nights, it would be churlish to outright demand it. Giselle had been the feistiest at dinner, and her bosom was on such provocative display throughout supper... You cock an enquiring eyebrow at her, pointedly glancing at the pillow ever so discretely placed before your armchair. Aespa were hardly blushing virgins, they had undergone the rigors of idol training, no doubt engaging in frantic couplings with their compatriots or subject to extensive lovemaking from fans. So Giselle is able to pick up on your subtle cues, but seems resigned to her oncoming task. With a sigh of faint annoyance, she gathers herself and proceeds to kneel before you, perfectly placed between your outspread legs. She looks up at you with bemusement, a river of defiance still flowing through her as she prepares yourself. With the utmost politeness you tell her, "Upon your breasts, please", and she begins. Taking your already stiffening manhood out of your pants, she lowers her head onto it and takes you in her mouth. In that moment you knew that you were completely justified in your expenditure; even with an utter lack of enthusiasm, Giselle's skills were impeccable, even your lustiest maids could not compare. You unconsciously sigh with pleasure, tastelessly forgetting for a time that you had other guests to entertain, only able to focus solely on this idol's bobbing head... Your breath hikes with excitement, and Giselle pulls off of your cock, stroking it in workmanlike fashion as she angles it towards her exposed breasts. With a groan, you anoint her vast expanses of pale flesh with your creamy seed, long ropes of it spewing over her breasts until they are glistening in the soft lighting.

Giselle gives you a disparaging look as she surveys the mess drying upon her chest, before rudely letting your penis fall back onto your belly unsupported. She stalks back to the couch, rejoining the other girls, who give her glances of silent support and relief. You charmingly request that Winter take her place, and discover that while her countenance may be icy, her mouth is not. Her delicate technique allows you to engage your guests once more however, striking up a conversation with Aespa about their past experiences. Karina, her bubbly personality much more subdued, is still able to to keep up an exchange, studiously ignoring her groupmate's head moving between your thighs. When the time comes, you gently hold Winter steady as your thick semen surges into her warm, inviting mouth. She lets out the meekest noise of disgust as she swallows every last drop, her tongue dutifully milking your shaft until it is totally drained. She then shyly follows the same path Giselle did, and hurriedly sits back down on the couch, drinking her nightcap with much more enthusiasm now.

You take stock, and come to the unfortunate conclusion that your manhood would only be able to perform with any decorum only once more. Which would leave one of the lovely ladies of Aespa bereft of your desert tonight, an unconscionable failing for a host of your impeccable breeding. You muse upon the thorny issue, before deciding upon the most correct course of action that would satisfy all. Beaming, you beckon over both Karina and Ningning, groping around for another pillow so that they would be able to both kneel comfortably. Ningning eyes your slowly shrinking cock with a clinical air, while Karina gives you haltingly awkward smiles as she takes the initiative in leaning towards your crotch. She starts by tenderly kisses and sucking upon you, until your manhood swells up in readiness once more. Then Ningning passionlessly joins in, the both of them licking and kissing up and down your shaft with varying levels of enthusiasm. You sigh at the beautiful sight, the two of them looking up at you as they satisfy every inch of your cock, truly this is a wonderous moment to burn into your memories. You benevolently cup their cheeks in appreciation, thanking them whole-heartedly for such a magnificent performance. Surprisingly, Ningning seems to thaw a bit at your compliments, her reserved manner softening slightly due to your genuine attentions. While their mouths may have been putting on quite the performance, the pair's hands had been hard at work as well; plying your balls and encouraging them to rise to the occasion. An unashamed moan announces the arrival of your final climax, spouting out over both Karina and Ningning's faces, covering them in watery droplets dredge from the depths of your testes. Karina pouts at the mess you made on her makeup, while Ningning shows a vague glimmer of appreciation, while still giving a look of bland revulsion.

The pair rejoin their groupmates on the worn couch, Aespa now putting on a united front as they stare expectantly at you. Winter, looking a touch queasy, Giselle, her out-thrust breasts still sticky with your semen, and Karina and Ningning, faces thoroughly splattered with your seed. With the utmost politeness you sheath your manhood, pleasantly thanking for a wonderful night's entertainment; cordially inviting them to return to their rooms for the night. Of course, should any of them wish yo share your bed, you would be honored to oblige them. Aespa stand and bow graciously, Karina courteously declining your invitation this night, making vague promises for a later date. You smile amiably, shooing them off so that they may recover in peace from this erotic affair; their gifts had been more than satisfactory. They leave the lounge in a far more stilted manner than when they started the evening, their previous grace inhibited by their embarrassment. Truly it had been a marvelous night, and as you yawn and stretch, you muse upon the joys the morning will bring....

(A/N) This is likely to be a multi-chapter work, depending on how well this first one goes I will add more on. This was for sure more of a setup chapter with a good amount of fluff with some spice at the end :3

#kpop smut #aespa #aespa smut #smut #karina smut #giselle smut #ningning smut #winter smut

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forjongseong · 1 year

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bite me // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: knight!jay x princess!reader

genre: royalty!au, fantasy, smut (minors dni) // warning: profanity, mentions of death, unprotected sex, a lot of biting // wc: ~6k

summary: a knight stumbles upon your castle, and unlike anyone you have encountered before, this young man seems to have a scent that you somehow cannot resist.

author’s note: I'm going to be quite honest with you, this fic is long overdue. I planned on releasing it BEFORE enhypen's comeback, since the idea came after I watched their mini-movie where Jay literally got his neck bitten by the actress but moods come and go, ideas appear and fade, so here you go.

initially it was also inspired by their concept pics, the Full ver. of their Dark Blood album, and I also thought of an alternate version (where Jay is the castle resider instead and y/n is the traveler/knight, let me know if that's something you might be interested in).

warning, though, this one might feel a little choppy, a bit hasty, and all over the place. my excuse is that I am drunk in love with Jay, and I take full responsibility.

no taglist this time, I shall let people find this fic on their own.

if you're here, congratulations and welcome! hope you can enjoy this one too.

When Jay heard the words ‘isolated castle’, he was expecting a huge building made of gray bricks with several towers that scraped the sky, sitting in the middle of an endless sea of sand with no roads connected to it. He pictured the sun shining mercilessly on whoever was standing under its light, and he was slightly worried about finding a source of water, as well as food.

Yet here he was, standing on top of a plush bed of grass, staring at the stone path that led to the castle in front of him. It was made of bricks, yes, but they were in the shade of copper, a warm and inviting kind of brown. The castle had no tower, or none that he could see so far, but it stood tall and mighty despite being surrounded by luscious greens and equally tall trees.

Jay reached for the worn-out map in his satchel, but as he stretched his arm, he winced from the sharp stinging pain that he had been feeling since hours ago. He did not know exactly when or how he injured himself—maybe he slept wrong, or maybe he used his hand wrong, or maybe it was just destined for everything to go wrong—but he was sure he had arrived at his destination.

During his years of training to become a knight, Jay had read countless tales, not minding if they were fact or fiction, and he had gained enough knowledge to go on a lot of missions alone. The townspeople were very supportive of him, as it was expected that the men in each family each take a role that was beneficial for the kingdom.

Fortunately, since he managed to capture the attention of the princess, Jay was soon handpicked by the king and queen to become their future son-in-law. When they found out that he was a knight, though, they became quite concerned with the tasks and duties that he had to perform. Eventually, Jay had to promise them he would not die no matter what, and it was a tough one to keep.

As happens in every other kingdom, it was customary for a member of the royal family to request an item as a form of dowry. Since Jay was not exactly born into royalty, he was given a task that would get the princess her dowry as well as prove Jay’s aptitude as a knight.

To retrieve the lost diadem of the Panthera onca.

The sound of his metal boots clinking against the rocky path made the resident of the castle open the doors before he could even reach them. You stood in front of him, and he thought your figure was unlike anyone he had seen before. To start, you were glowing. For some reason, the sunlight shined on your slightly tan skin, and it did not help that the outfit you were wearing was made of a sheer fabric that showed a bit of your curves and more of your skin. Second, you were—

“Are you alright?”

Your voice started ringing in Jay’s ears, and he realized how parched he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal, or a sip of water, and the sprain in his arm from falling off his horse was not the only injury that he had. Jay reached his hand up to take off his headgear, and his slightly long hair fell immediately to cover his forehead.

“I,” he began, “I need water.”

And then everything went pitch black.

---

Jay woke up to the sound of birds outside the window, and he instantly noticed that he was lying down in bed. His heavy armor was long gone from his body, and he was only wearing the undergarments he came with. He started backtracking, trying to remember what happened, but then he heard water splashing, so he hopped off the bed and headed directly for the window.

The same woman who opened the castle doors for him was taking a dip in one of the most lavish pools he had ever seen. It was not like Jay had never been to a castle before, but something about this place seemed magical and just so different. He watched as you took laps in the water, and when you emerged out of it, you brushed your hair back as you looked up, and if he did not step away from the window, you would have caught him staring.

Jay sat back on the bed and began to think. Did you undress him? Did you tend to his wounds? Did you carry him up to the second floor by yourself? Are you alone in this castle?

He heard a couple of knocks on his door, and he flinched in his seat. “Come in?” he said timidly.

You pushed the door open and walked in with your hair half-wet, and you were wearing a different gown than before. You were holding a tray that had little trinkets that were supposed to help you with treating Jay’s injury. As you walked up to him, Jay pulled his feet up to the bed and scooted further until his back was against the headboard.

“It’s time to dress your wounds,” you sighed, looking down and avoiding eye contact. “Can you do it alone?”

“I have so many questions right now,” Jay said in a hushed voice as he watched your hands place the tray on top of the bed.

“I’m sure you do,” you replied, scrunching your nose and looking away. “I have to attend to something else, so please.”

You pushed the tray slightly towards Jay and looked at him for a split second before you broke eye contact again. Jay frowned as his eyes followed your movements, and when you disappeared behind the door, he let out a huge sigh that he had been holding in.

The questions he had in his mind multiplied, and he was determined to find the answers soon.

---

Jay had fallen asleep again, and when he woke up this time it was almost dark outside. The faint light of the sun entered his room through the window, and just as he was adjusting his eyes, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, with more confidence this time.

You had changed into yet another gown and your hair was up in a bun. The tray you were carrying had healing herbs and a plate filled with mashed potatoes and other roasted vegetables. When you tried to put the tray on Jay’s bed, he reached out for it and accidentally brushed his hands with yours as he took it away from you.

“Sorry, I,” Jay’s voice hung in the air as he noticed you take a few steps back with unnecessary haste, “I must be bothering you. You don’t have to bring food here.”

“Oh, I have to,” you replied. “There is nowhere else for you to eat.”

“You mean there is no dining room?” Jay asked, setting the tray in front of him.

“There is, but we don’t use it.”

“We?” Jay asked again, seemingly intrigued. “So, there are other people in this castle?”

“Not at this hour,” you shook your head slowly before looking at him. “I just meant myself. And since you are here, we.”

Jay could not help but notice the way you would scrunch your nose once in a while after talking to him as if you had smelled something foul or your nose was itchy. He began sniffing himself out of self-cautiousness, and when he did not find anything wrong, he became even more confused.

“I suggest you stay for another fortnight,” you continued. Your eyes were set on the left side of his waist, and you tilted your chin pointing to that area. “Your wound has to heal completely.”

“Right, about that,” Jay sat up straight and pulled his top up.

You blinked and immediately looked the other way, not wanting to stare at his bare body. Jay noticed your behavior and smirked to himself.

“I actually can’t reach this part very well since I sprained my arm too,” he said, pointing to his side. “I mean, I could, but it’s quite painful.”

You sighed heavily before licking your lips, and you thought it would be easier to get it done as quickly as possible. You grabbed the chair that faced the vanity and sat it beside Jay’s bed. You reached for the herbs and kept your eye around Jay’s wound, trying your best not to look up into his eyes.

“Are you a princess?” Jay asked carefully, keeping his eyes on you.

You nodded as you cleaned the edges of Jay’s wound, dabbing his skin with a damp cloth.

“Then why are you in this castle alone, Your Highness?” he asked again, adjusting his position, and pulling his top higher.

You paused to look at him for a while, but you managed to avoid his eyes. “It’s a long story,” you finally replied.

“I am a good listener,” Jay said, smiling at you.

You looked out the window and noticed that the sun was almost gone, so you sped up the process and in turn made Jay flustered. The movements of your hands became hasty, and you were sure you pressed on his wound a little too hard because you heard him hiss, but you knew you had to leave the room as soon as you were done.

“Eat your dinner and rest up,” you said as you stood up, wiping your hands with a cloth and brushing the skirt of your gown down. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Your Highness…”

The door slammed behind you and Jay was too shocked to even form a proper reaction.

“…I don’t even know your name,” he murmured to himself, staring blankly at the door and then at the food you had served him.

---

Jay woke up the next morning to the sound of a horse neighing. He recognized it and immediately jumped out of bed, making his way to the window as he winced in pain at the sudden movement of his arms. He spotted you in the courtyard with three other people he had never seen before, and since he was already feeling better, he decided to approach you.

When Jay entered the courtyard, you were stepping away from the horse, letting the castle’s servants tend to it instead since you figured it grew uneasy around your presence. As you took a couple steps back, though, you felt a pair of hands hovering over your shoulder.

“Whoa,” Jay said in a low voice. “Careful, Princess.”

You turned around and stood straight, nodding your head slightly to greet your guest.

“We found him in the woods this morning,” you explained without waiting for Jay to ask. “I assume he is yours.”

“Thank you,” Jay replied, already approaching his horse. In an instant, the black beast calmed down. “His name is Shadow.”

You nodded and observed the way Jay patted his horse, speaking to him in a calm manner and handling him in the gentlest way you had ever seen a man treating an animal. For a second, you witnessed the way the color of Jay’s face shifted, and you saw him as a commoner with a huge love for creatures instead of a wounded knight.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, breaking your own distraction. “I suppose you can handle him now. I’ll have my people take care of him too.”

Your castle staff hovered around you and spoke to you in whispers, and you responded to them in a similar way, stealing glances at Jay. When you noticed him glancing back at you, you turned around and started walking away with your staff.

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Jay spoke to Shadow. “You’re usually friendly to strangers. Pretty princesses too, mostly.”

Shadow snorted as he shook his head, almost hitting Jay in the face with his long mane.

---

As the hours went by, you tried your best to keep a distance from the knight in your castle. Every time Jay asked you a question, you would answer accordingly, trying not to give out too much information. After all, he was a stranger in your place, and you always had your walls up when it comes to protecting yourself.

It wasn’t until Jay revealed the reason he was out and about around your castle’s ground that you became instantly defensive. You were tending to his wounds and scars, the last of them, and once he mentioned the lost diadem, you let go of the cloth in your hands, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re looking for the diadem?” You asked, not because you didn’t hear him the first time, but because you needed confirmation.

“Do you know where it is?” He asked back, eyes looking at yours full of hope.

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be looking for it. Many men have died trying to possess it. It wouldn’t be any different this time.”

Jay frowned and almost chuckled. “So, you do know about it? I’m sure if you tell me, I can give it a—”

You snatched the tray away from his bed, your feet scurrying to leave his room as fast as you could. Jay’s mouth hung open as he watched you leave, and he was too stunned to do anything else.

That night, Jay realized he must have made a huge mistake. The distance you put between you and him became bigger, and you had tasked your staff to tend to his wounds and bring him his food instead of coming over yourself. This went on for days, and as much as Jay tried to ask your staff about you, he would receive no valuable information.

One night, Jay decided to take matters into his own hands. He had memorized the staff’s schedule, down to the hour that they would come to his room, so he picked a clear slot in the middle of the night to sneak out, determined to find you. Jay was clearly gifted with cat feet since his movements were barely audible, and as he searched through almost the whole castle, he finally heard some noise coming out of what seemed to be the largest room in the building.

He heard what sounded like a purr, and it was so loud that he could almost feel the walls vibrate. Jay pressed his body to the wall, making zero noise as he craned his neck to peek through the open window.

Jay saw you sleeping on the bed in a curled position. He knew it was you since the bedroom looked royal and you were the only person of royalty in this castle, but he had to do a double take.

You were curled up, indeed, but as he adjusted his eyes to the dark, he saw you lifting up your head and yawning.

Except it wasn’t your head. It was the head of a jaguar.

Jay squinted his eyes as his mind tried to make sense of what he was witnessing. You had the head of a jaguar and the paws of one, but your body remained the same. With a hitched breath, Jay leaned back on the wall and shook his head, thinking he was dreaming. He then decided to look a second time and to his surprise, you were already standing by the window.

“Fuck!” Jay shouted, stumbling back and falling to the ground.

You growled at him, keeping your yellow eyes focused on his figure. Jay managed to regulate his breathing and brushed the grass off his thighs before standing up again.

“Princess?” Jay asked, unsure. “Is that you?”

Jay took a step closer to you and you hissed, pulling the curtains down to cover the whole window before your shadow disappeared into the darkness.

---

When Jay woke up in the morning, he thought he had an elaborate and odd dream. He was hoping so, but then he heard a knock on the door before one of your staff opened it and peeked inside.

“The princess is expecting you, Sir,” he said. “At the dining room.”

Jay sat up and massaged his temple before responding. “She wants to see me?”

The man nodded once and was about to leave when Jay cleared his throat.

“Do you know what happens to the princess at night?” Jay asked with a raspy voice. He looked at the man, expecting an immediate answer.

“We all do, Sir.”

Jay sat on his bed as he gathered his thoughts, as well as his strength before he stood up and dressed to go see you. He was determined to find out what this was all about, and he decided to just ask you directly this time, no matter how forward it might seem.

At the dining table, though, all Jay could do was stare at the breakfast plate in front of him. He looked to your side and saw that you only had a glass of water. Jay cleared his throat before picking up a fork and starting a conversation.

“Are you not hungry?” He asked, looking at you warily.

“I already hunted last night,” you answered calmly, toying with your bronze cup of water.

Hunted, he thought. So he was not dreaming.

“I’m sure you have questions,” you continued. “And since you already know…”

“What happened to you, Princess?”

You were not expecting Jay to shoot a question as suddenly as he did, so you almost choked on your own words.

“You’re a knight,” you smiled softly. “You must know a lot of tales. Evil witches. Desperate kings and queens. Cursed princesses. I’m just one of them.”

“But what happened?” Jay asked again, completely abandoning his breakfast.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered, resting both your hands on the dining table.

“Is that why you avoid me during the night?” Jay continued.

You nodded.

“And is that why you have your staff around only during the day?”

You nodded again.

“You’ve been keeping your distance from me, Princess,” Jay said with a desperate sigh. “Is it because I’m a stranger?”

This time you shook your head. “No.”

“Then, why—”

“It’s because of your scent.”

Jay paused and for a while, you thought he had turned into a statue. “I’m sorry?” He finally responded.

“You have a distinctive scent that makes me…”

Your sentence hung in the air and Jay realized you were choosing the appropriate words to voice your thoughts.

“I don’t feed on humans,” you resumed, “and I would like to keep it that way.”

Is she saying I smell like an animal? Jay thought to himself.

“But if it’s a curse,” Jay spoke again, deciding to shift the topic, “how can it be broken?”

You chuckled to yourself, and Jay swore he had just witnessed the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

“What’s the most cliché thing you can think of?” You asked back before patiently waiting for an answer.

“A kiss?” Jay answered in a tone that sounded more like a question.

You snorted and looked away. “The curse can only be broken if someone sincerely falls in love with me. I bet you can imagine how hard that would be.”

Jay took your answer and started backtracking everything in his mind—from the moment he arrived at your castle, to the way you tended to his wounds and took care of him in every way despite keeping your distance. He wondered if you had done the same thing to other knights or travelers who had stumbled upon your castle.

“I was actually hoping I could keep this hidden from you until your time is up,” you said after noticing he had been silent for too long. “Tomorrow, it will be a fortnight since you came here. I was told that you’re perfectly healed, so you can leave as soon as you want.”

Jay followed your movements as you stood up from your seat, pushing it back before you walked over to a shelf on the other side of the room. You pulled open the lowest drawer and took out a headpiece decorated in the most exquisite set of emeralds and diamonds.

“The diadem you’re looking for,” you said, bringing it to him. “Take it with you.”

You waited for Jay to take the diadem out of your hands, but he just stared at it.

“Sir?” You asked, shaking the diadem a little in front of his eyes.

“You said,” Jay began and licked his lips, “you said many men have died trying to possess it. You told me to forget about it.”

“That was because most of those men tried to take it by force. It did not end well. You were a nice guest, well, most of the time if you weren’t lurking around the castle. My staff also told me how kind you are to them.”

Jay tilted his head. “Let me get this right,” he said, “you’re giving the diadem to me just like that because I’m… nice?”

“Also, because I want you to leave.”

For some reason, your statement felt like it stung his heart.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You already told me your story. I’m helping a knight achieve his goal.”

You set the diadem beside Jay’s plate and started walking towards the door.

“I’ll have my staff ready your horse for tomorrow,” you said without looking back. “Live well, dear knight.”

Jay had lost count of the many times you left him alone in a room during his stay in your castle. However, unlike the previous times where all he felt was mostly confusion, this time it hurt.

---

It had been days or maybe weeks since Jay left your castle, and although you had grown accustomed to his absence, you could not deny that at times you missed his presence. It was not like you had spent a lot of time together, but you heard from your staff how Jay would behave, how he would treat everyone with kindness and respect, and how gentle he was when it came to animals and plants.

He was unlike any other knight you had met before, but that made him the most dangerous.

Jay did not know that every time you came into his room and caught a whiff of his scent, your eyes glinted in hunger. He was not aware of how hard you were keeping your thoughts to yourself, and he definitely was not aware of how you started to confuse your thoughts with your feelings, thinking that he might be the one who could lift your curse.

The single dream you had was then shattered as quickly as it was built. When you found out that he needed the diadem as a present for his betrothed, you threw all your hope out the window. You wanted to stay civil, though, and you figured that the best way to not act up in front of him was to just stay away from him.

Therefore, you were stunned to find him again on your doorstep this evening. It was almost sunset, and you began to observe his figure under the yellow light. He looked better, healthier, and there was this glow on his face that made him even more handsome.

“Princess,” he greeted you, smiling.

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes focused on the item in his hand. Your diadem.

“I believe it would be unfair for me to take what is rightfully yours,” Jay said, slightly lifting the diadem.

“What are you doing?” You asked. It was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

“I came back because,” Jay paused, “I want to ask you to marry me.”

You had experienced many odd encounters in your life, but this had to be one of the most bizarre ones.

“This is a sick joke,” you retorted before turning away from him.

“Princess, wait!”

You rushed back into the castle, heading into your room since you knew you were going to change soon. You did not want to end the surprise meeting badly, and your mind was too clouded that you did not notice your staff scurrying back into their chambers, completely ignoring that a knight was chasing after you.

As you finally reached the door to your bedroom, you pushed it open and entered before you slammed it shut. However, you did not hear the door close and when you turned around, Jay was holding it open.

“Please,” Jay begged, looking at you desperately.

You were about to scream at him, but words would not come out, and instead, your voice turned into raspy growls and hisses. Jay let himself inside and closed the door behind him as he witnessed your transformation, and once you were in your jaguar form you jumped onto your bed, trying to get as farther away from him as you could.

“It’s okay,” Jay said, calmly making his way towards you. “You’re okay.”

Jay reached out his hand to your snout and you looked away, sniffing and resting your head on a pillow. It did not deter him, and he even moved closer and made himself comfortable on your bed before placing a hand gently on top of your head.

“It will be okay,” Jay spoke again in a lower tone, a voice of reassurance.

As you felt Jay gently stroking your head, he saw a single tear trickle down your nose. You were gritting your teeth while forcing your eyes closed, trying to block any bestial urges that might arise.

---

You woke up with your head on top of Jay’s chest, and the way his chest moved up and down with every breath he took made you gather your senses in a faster manner than usual. You realized he had spent the night with you in your room, and you also remembered how you starved yourself the whole night just so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt him.

You quickly came to the conclusion that a relationship with him would never work, and you began to taint your own thoughts by assuming that he came back to tame you, not because he loved you, and that he only saw you as another quest in his life as a knight. With that, you decided to leave the castle before he wakes up, hoping that if you leave him for long enough, he will yield and return to his kingdom.

Unfortunately, after stumbling upon Shadow in the woods, you were forced to return home, with the horse surprisingly following you in a calm manner as if he knew he was there to serve a purpose. You were worried sick, partly because it was only hours left until sunset and also because there was no other way Jay would leave your castle unless his horse was with him. Sure enough, Jay was waiting for your return and his face lit up the second he saw you approaching the grounds with Shadow beside you.

“You need to leave,” you said, handing over Shadow’s lead line to Jay.

You went inside and after a short while, you thought you were safe and that Jay had left, but once again he tailed you right until you reached your chambers, and by that point, you were too exhausted to drive him away.

“My family disowned me,” you began, not bothering to give any preceding context. “I’m not worthy of marrying you.”

“Princess,” Jay scoffed before he licked his lips. “I’m not even royalty.”

“I can’t stand the thought of holding myself back when you’re around,” you continued, covering your mouth with both your hands. “It will never work.”

Jay stood by your bed as you sat on its edge, looking down and resting your elbows on your thighs as you continued to cover your mouth.

“Bite me.”

You frowned and lifted your head from your hands. “What?”

“All you need to do is to get used to my scent,” Jay said, sitting next to you. You shifted in place. “So, bite me.”

You looked at Jay, unsure, and he nodded once before tilting his head, giving you access to his neck. Your hands trembled as you reached for his shoulder, so he grabbed your hand in his and held it tight. When he felt your nose bump into his chin, he closed his eyes, and when he felt the warmth of your breath graze the skin on his neck, he almost shivered.

You bit him once and at the same time, you felt his hand squeeze your waist. His scent flooded your mind, and you could not hold back from biting him one more time, so you did. You let go with a shaky breath and pulled away only to find Jay looking into your eyes.

“It’s not bad, isn’t it?” He asked.

You licked your lips and brought your other hand to his shoulder.

“Do it again,” Jay demanded.

You tilted your head to the other side of his neck, where you found a heart-shaped birthmark, and this time you bit him there without hesitation.

“See?” He spoke, and his voice echoed right into your ear. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Jay squeezed your waist one more time before you decided to bite him a couple more times. He began rubbing your back gently before you suddenly felt a wash of overwhelming feelings. You moved back to the other side and bit him again, but this time you bit too hard that he winced and let go of his grip on your waist.

You flinched at his reaction and immediately felt regret. Your eyes flickered to the window, and you noticed how quickly the sun was setting, so before Jay could say anything you jumped to your feet and ran out of your chambers.

“Princess!”

Your feet took you to the farthest room in the castle and you quickly entered it, locking the door behind you. You leaned back on it and started sobbing, thinking of how foolish you were to even entertain the idea of marrying Jay in your condition. You slumped to the floor and sobbed, ignoring the banging on the door and Jay’s distraught voice begging you to let him in.

“Please leave, Jay.”

Your voice was weak and almost a croak, and you figured it was because of all the crying. But then Jay also stopped knocking on the door, and you heard rustling and a couple of soft taps by the keyhole.

“Princess? I can hear you.”

You almost choked on your own sob at Jay’s obvious remark, but then you paused, and you heard him speak again.

“Look out the window, Princess.”

The sun had set, and you could not believe your eyes. You held up your hands, your fingers, in front of you before you touched your own face to feel your nose, your cheeks, and your lips. Then you checked outside again, making sure your mind was not playing tricks and that you really had not transformed.

You heard another knock on the door and without waiting for another word you opened it. The look on Jay’s face was that of relief mixed with adoration, and he did not waste any time walking towards you to pull you into his embrace. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, staining his skin with your tears and letting him wrap his arms around you as tightly as he could.

You felt him tug one of your sleeves and you pulled back to look at him. He brought his hand up to caress your face, wiping the remaining tears off your cheek.

“Marry me, Princess.”

You answered by inching your face closer to his before nodding slightly and kissing him on the lips. You tasted his sigh right after, loving the way his arms wrapped around you again as you pulled him even closer by the neck. He shut the door behind him with his foot and moved you towards the bed, carefully guiding you all the way as he placed his hand on the small of your back, not even once pulling away from the kiss.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you both stopped, pulling away to catch your breath and to undress yourselves. Jay pulled his top off quickly while you struggled with your corset, so he gently shoved your hands away so he could undress you himself. When he pulled all of your clothes down to pool at your feet, you could feel his breath against your thighs, and you almost lost your balance if he did not place his hands on your hips.

Jay began kissing your core without warning and you whimpered at the sudden warmth. Just moments ago, you were biting his neck like he was your prey, yet now you are watching him devour you, his face in between your legs as you struggle to even keep your eyes open. At one point, the way his tongue was pressing on your clit made you pull on his hair a little too tight, and when he looked up at you, he grinned before licking his top lip.

You sat down on the bed and pulled him in by his shoulders, and he began to lay you down before he settled over you. He got rid of the last of his clothes and you could feel his tip graze your bottom lips.

“Jay, wait,” you whispered, placing a palm over his chest.

He leaned into you to give you a soft peck on the cheek. “Yes, Princess?”

You chuckled and began caressing his face with one hand. “Do you even know my name?”

Jay let out an airy but silent laugh, burying his face in your neck. “Do you really think I would stay for so long in this castle without knowing the name of the residents? You know my name even without me telling you.”

You rested your thumb on his cheek and the rest of your fingers behind his ear, making him face you again. He moved his face to kiss your palm.

“Then call me by my name,” you requested. “And I shall chant yours like it’s my favorite spell.”

Jay smirked before leaning in to kiss your lips. “Very well then,” he whispered into your mouth, “Y/N.”

You felt him ease into you with a gentle force, and he caught your gasp between his lips. You held on to his shoulders as he began thrusting in and out of you, making you bring your legs up in order to feel him better.

“Slowly, Jay,” you begged him once you felt his pace was going a little too fast.

Jay grunted, seemingly unable to control his thirst for you, so you kept the pace by meeting him halfway and grinding your hips towards his. You could feel his biceps flexing as he held himself up, so you caressed his arms before you made your next request.

“Bite me.”

You brushed his hair back before you let him kiss your lips, and after that his lips traveled down to your chin and to your neck, licking you there several times before he bit you. You chanted his name as you promised, and when it was time for him to reach his high, he moaned your name right into your ear.

As you felt his seed coat your insides, you felt his thumb circling your clit for you to catch up with him. He pulled out of you only to finger his load back inside your hole, and that was how you reached your high of the night.

When Jay collapsed by your side, you became aware of the marks that you had left on his neck earlier that evening. You moved closer to him, and he welcomed you by pulling you to his side with one arm, having you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Are you sure it didn’t hurt?” You whispered, too afraid to disturb the serenity.

“Princess,” Jay began. “My princess,” he corrected himself. “Even if it hurt, I liked it.”

You snorted and tapped Jay’s cheek, and your body moved with his as he started to laugh.

“If you feel the urge next time,” he continued, “just come and leave marks on my neck.”

Jay tilted your chin up with his finger before kissing you softly, and for the first time in forever, you finally felt content.

-END-

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just-some-random-blogger · 8 months

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Bright Eyes | 3

Part 1 2

Prince Aemond's marriage was borne out of necessity and political advantage. Let it never be said that he did not know duty, for duty was what kept Aemond Targaryen grounded. But in truth, the prince felt cheated by the match, for he felt his wife was getting scraps as her dowry. After all, she was chosen for him because of her family's wealth and resources. It was then rather scandalous when the icy prince became temperate to his bride.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, arranged marriage au, smut (vaginal penetration, breeding kink), jealousy, reluctant lovers ig, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: This is part of the 'house of the dragon big bang celebration' that's also available on AO3 and my art was made by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

For the past weeks, Aemond had been unknowingly attending a play. He had not realized he was an avid watcher until he caught two servants muttering to each other about the very observations he had: the princess is an odd one.

The realization came about when a lord visited The Keep, dressed in a ridiculous cape and a large flower broach. The man had concerns for his village and aired his errs with the king. Or he would have, except the king would not see him, or rather could not; Viserys was too busy wasting away. The Lord Hand could not see him either, nor did any lord in the king's council, all of them preoccupied with something else.

His older brother, Aegon, with a head powered by mead, could not possibly entertain the lord. So, that left him.

Except he was not there when this poorly dressed fellow came to King's Landing, and so, naturally, his wife that attended to this man who awaited his return.

Aemond had asked those two servants where his wife was upon returning and not finding her in the usual places she stayed. The women explained the situation and said you were showing a lord around The Keep.

With a raised brow, Aemond asked if the Lord was from a major house, and the servants said no. In fact, he was from a house that's serves under his wife's. They then both expressed mutual befuddlement on why the princess acted as though that were not the case.

Aemond listened to how the servants went about how the pompous prick of a lord talked about the scenery of his home soil, and how he would gladly host her there to experience it, and the princess never once mentioned that she has seen all the sights he'd boasted about.

Irritation grew within him as he walked around the palace looking for his bride and the rat she was touring. Upon spotting them, he froze in his spot when he witnessed the lord pluck a flower from a bush and hand it to his wife. His eye twitches when she accepts.

She smiles and mutters something to him, making him laugh and Aemond finally storm over. She places the flower on the man's cape, which makes him strike a pose.

They're both laughing when Aemond comes up to them.

Once he's made his presence known, the man immediately bows and begins to drone about how good of a host his wife was. Aemond impatiently tells him he knows all about why he was here, tells him he'll speak to the king, then dismisses him, taking his wife by the hand as he did.

They get to their chambers. Aemond finds he is visibly annoyed, given how his wife gently pacified him. He doesn't know why he doesn't rip his arm out of her grip when she touched him, nor why his glare softened when he looked at her.

She sits them down on the side of their bed. At this point, the ire in his belly out.

"How was your ride on Vhagar?" she asks, taking his hand and placing it on her lap.

Aemond looks at her face then his hand, cradled in hers. He holds her wrist for a second then sighs, "fine."

"That's good. I was concerned when it drizzled."

"It did not where I rode," Aemond lifts his gaze.

He watches her nod then averts his attention back on his hand on her lap. He rubs the fabric of her skirts.

"I have given quite a few solutions to Lord-"

"Do not speak of him to me," Aemond quips. His hand on her skirt grabs the fabric. He lifts his eye up to her face, "I have my hand on your lap."

She opens her mouth but says nothing.

Aemond's focus is on her lips now.

"I beg your pardon, my prince."

Aemond leans closer, "as you should."

They kiss and Aemond immediately rips her skirts up. He heaves and pushes her down on the bed. There is a fire within him that can only be put out by the wetness of her cunt.

As much as he wanted to strip her naked, he could not wait. He tugs his pants down and barely even gets her smallclothes past her knees when he started to fuck her.

He presses her legs to her chest and traps her beneath him. The sound of her cries further fuel his depravity. He thrusts faster, squeezing her thighs to keep her put under him.

"Whose children will you sire?" Aemond presses.

He watches her squirm and whimper. He snaps his hips rougher, demanding an answer.

She digs her nails into the sheets and whines out his name.

"Louder."

"Yours, Aemond," she barely has the breath to say.

Aemond makes her cry out his name until she comes undone. The feeling of her tightening around him makes his body flush with a greediness. His head spins with the thought of her being filled by him, and it sequentially pushes him to his peak.

He spills into her just as he feels whatever was pent up inside him spill out. As he slows and stops, the craze that powered his mind fades; he finally has the mind to strip her naked.

Aemond rips her smallclothes off, her footwear, then his top. He throws them all off the bed. He grabs her by the bodice and sits her up on his lap, unwilling to be separated as he rids her of her dress.

He can hear her heart pulsing as works on her laces of her corset.

He doesn't speak, but he looks at her with something akin to desperation. Was this jealousy?

The thought makes him dig his fingernails into her back. The way she moans and tightens her thighs around him makes him realize he doesn't care if he was.

He gulps when she mutters, "my prince."

I cannot help the laugh that leaves me when the Queen coos and pulls me into a tight embrace. I smile from ear to ear as I wrap my arms around Queen Alicent. Her warmth was comforting, even more so her whispers, "oh... well done, my sweet girl."

My chest tightens at her praise. I involuntarily feel my eyes water.

When she pulls away, her pout flips into a faint smile. She cups my cheeks and rubs my skin, "well done."

I nod and blink away the tears that were forming.

"Have you told Aemond?"

I shake my head, "he is on dragonback. I will tell him when he returns."

She nods and rubs my arms, "good. Tell him at once," she clasps her hands together, "add that the Queen advices him to lessen his dragon rides."

"Of course, mother," I curtsy.

With that, Alicent gives one last look, and resumes what she was doing before I came to her chambers.

I decide to head to the gardens as I await the return of my husband. On my way there, I rub my belly and fantasize about his reactions to the news. I'm sure he'd be relieved to know I was finally with child, and yet I wonder if he'd be... happy.

"My lady."

I avert my attention to the man in the garden. It was the same flamboyantly dressed man who I had met a moon ago.

Before I can respond, he walks over to me and extends a hand. I politely take it and maintain a smile as he gives and exaggerated bow before he kissing my hand.

When he does not release me right away, I pull out of his grip. I play it off with a smile, "to what do I owe the honor, my lord?"

The man gives a grin, "you forgot to mention when we met that you belong to the greater House that presides my village."

I offer a chuckle. Before I can respond though, he's speaking again.

"You've made me ramble like a fool about places you grew up going to," he raises his brows.

Once more, he continues to speak before I even open my mouth, "my ego is quite bruised, my lady. Whatever could be done about that?"

The smile on my lips thin as he gives me a hurt expression.

And yet, he gives me no opportunity to even speak on the matter. The Lord waves his hands and shakes his head, "no matter. I've come here to make amends." He raises his hands to prove a point, "for the sake of my pride."

At this point, I don't try to get a word in and merely nod.

He smirks and pulls out a letter from his breast pocket and, again, bows deeply as he hands it to me.

I stare at what appeared to be a letter bearing my father's sigil and link my fingers together, "and what is this thing you've brought to make amends?"

The man straightens up and somehow looks confused by my question. He purses his lips and waves the letter as he speaks, "a letter from your mother, of course."

My brows knit.

"I was instructed to have it delivered to you with great urgency and discretion," he brings the letter towards me again.

I hesitate, but take the letter and read its contents. Sure enough, it was from my mother, clear from the writing, its contents, and even the paper that was used. My stomach rolls at her words. My throat tightens, and my mouth goes dry.

Yet again, she write meticulous instruction for the benefit of conceiving. And though she expressed no direct disappointment, this letter was mere proof of it, a reminder of my continuous shortcomings.

The man before me looks with concern.

I erase the worry on my face with a smile. I bow my head to him, "thank you for your services, my lord."

The man bows lowly once again. He then gives a prolonged smile where I expected him to leave.

I grin wider, "I will not kee-"

"Pardon-" he cuts me off.

My brows quirk.

"-me, milady," he tilts his head in regard, "but might I know what it is your mother wrote?"

My expression drops, "what?"

He motions aimlessly with his hand and shakes his head, "well, you see, I went through a great many lengths to get here as soon as possible."

I cannot contain my look of disbelief as he steps closer and adds, "I do think it is within reason for me to know what was written. After all, I could have read it myself, but you see, I did not."

"I do not think it is possible, my lord," I affirm, "nor appropriate that I divulge the private words of my mother to a stranger."

"My lady! I am not a stranger," he laughs as he places a hand on his chest, "I am-"

"A dead man walking."

Black leather and blonde hair floods my vision. As quickly as a gasp leaves me, I realize my husband yanked me back to come between us. I hear a choking and the sound of soles skidding against gravel.

Aemond holds a knife against the man's neck, already nicking it with how tightly he pressed it against him.

The man squawks, "my prince-"

"Correct," he nods in approval, "I am the prince, and the woman I am married to is my princess. You will address her as such."

"O-" he chokes as he is forced down. His hands flare out, not knowing what to do with them, "of course."

I watch as my husband makes the man wobble back. My breathing grows heavy with every move. I follow after them but make no attempt to intervene.

"You see," Aemond mutters, "my princess is too kind for her own good. She's learned to make due with the short end of the stick."

A bead of blood trickles down the man's throat.

"Mmm," the prince hums.

I squeal when the lord yelps from being forced down on his knees.

"I do not share in her naiveté. I'll force the stick out of your hand and beat you with it."

The man shudders, "my prince-"

"Evidently, I am unopposed to violence."

I grab the back of the prince's coat, "Aemond."

Aemond ignores me. He clenches his jaw then releases the man with a shove.

My husband wipes his blade on his sleeve then sheathes it. I come to his side and take his arm. I am ignored still, his eyes locked on the man before him.

Aemon raises his brows in offence, "quickly, jobbernowl."

The man looks at the prince, terrified.

"Or must I chase you and make a meal out of your-"

Aemond does not continue as the man effectively scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could.

We both watch as he disappears. Once he was out of sight, he finally turns to me. His lone eye roves my body, and once it lands on my face, I am unable to hold it.

I turn to my feet, fidgeting with my letter.

He takes the letter from my hands.

My lips part. I take in a breath before explaining, "my mother sent it. She said-"

"I did not enquire."

I watch as my husband folds the parchment and places it back into its envelope. He takes my hand and returns my letter. My heart quickens when he does not release me.

I muster the courage to look up at him.

"Why do you do that?"

I inhale deeply, "...do what?"

"Permit audacity."

I press my lips into a line

"Have charlatans take you for a fool."

I shake my head and turn back to my feet, "I'm not a fool."

"I know that," Aemond lowers his head to hold my gaze, "you are the bride of a prince. You should not stand to be trampled, if not for your own sake, for mine."

"I-"

He takes my chin and lifts my gaze. I behold his disapproving look.

"It will not happen again," I say.

He releases me and tilts his head, "good." He clasps his hands behind him, "still. Answer my question."

I turn to the letter in my hand then back to him. I explain, "solace is found after bloodshed. Peace achieved through forced is futile."

Aemond makes a face then chuckles dryly. He shakes his head, "so you would face the wrath of a dragon in hopes it will spare you after?"

I press my lips into a smile, "it would be an honor to behold such ferocity."

He scoffs. A line forms between his brows. His face contorts so much his eyepatch shifts a fraction out of place.

I place a hand on his cheek. I fix his patch and huff whilst smiling, "how fortunate to know I am on the other side of the flames."

The prince stares at me for a moment. I fix his hair as well before pulling away.

"I will not always be there," he takes my wrist, "what if they hurt you before I hurt them?"

My body grows warm, at both his touch and his sentiment. The smile on my face grows, "then I would hope you arrive before then."

Aemond groans. He lowers my hand, "no. That cannot be a probability."

"My prince. You needn't-"

"From now on, if you are not within my gaze, you will have a guard hot on your heels."

I decide not to argue, seeing the severity of his expression. I smile in response.

"And in your spare time, I will teach you how to use a dagger."

I blink at his words but ultimately nod, "if it pleases you."

Aemond says nothing more, but he is clearly still uneasy. I take his arm and lead him into the garden.

He and I walk in silence for a moment, watching as the wind blows through the leaves of the flora.

"I would not have you hardened," he says, making me turn to him. His eyes remain fixed in front, "I would have you strengthened."

I take in the shape of his nose and think about how our children would inherit it. I smile at the thought.

"I am with child."

He stops in his tracks. He takes a second before turning to me.

I smile grows, "all the more reason to teach me, no?"

Aemond looks down as I take his hands in mine. He looks up at me and nods, "indeed."

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sweetbonniebel · 3 months

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Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

four

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

108 AC Red Keep, King's Landing

Silence fell between siblings, y/n stared wide eyed at Viserys as he told her of his plans to marry Rhaenyra's companion, Alicent Hightower. Building the structure of old Valyria was abandoned.

"No." The daughter of Baelon the brave said coldly.

"No?" Her brother asked confused.

"No." She repeated. "You will not marry that girl."

"I have decid-" His grace countered but was interrupted by his younger sister.

"Choose someone else." y/n demanded resuming her previous activity.

"Why not her?" He insisted staring at the red-eyed girl.

"She is a Hightower, a house that protects and upholds the faith of the seven. We are Targaryen's we follow the fourteen flames, her father is a second son so her dowry would be insufficient. She is your daughters confidante, this marriage will break Rhaenyra." y/n explained without looking at her brother. "Choose someone else."

"Who would you have me choose?" His Grace asked annoyed.

"A bride of Valyrian descent, perhaps a Lyseni noble woman. Or a Celtigar, maybe a Baratheon." She proposed painting a tower. "If you marry Alicent and have a son, your hand will want to make him King not Rhaenyra."

"Otto would't undermine my decision to make Rhaenyra my heir." Viserys countered

"Viserys, be serious. That man will do anything to gain power, he knows Rhaenyra holds no love for him and when she becomes Queen he will have no place in her court."

"Otto supported and proposed the decision to make Rhaenyra heir during a small council meeting." He countered

"But that is not because he wants Rhaenyra to be Queen, he wanted remove Daemon as a possible heir." y/n stated. "He is too proud to be a loyal servant to the crown."

"Otto has been a loyal and unwavering hand."

"Orys Baratheon was a loyal and unwavering hand, Daemon Velaryon was an amiable hand, Ryam Redwyne was loyal and so was father but Otto? No."

...

"I intend to marry, the Lady Alicent Hightower." Viserys spoke during the small council meeting. y/n sighed deeply swirling the bronze orb that belonged to her as the mistress of whisperers. Corlys was outraged, Rhaenyra betrayed, Otto victorious and Viserys was a fool.

Soon the small council began to leave the chamber, Corlys and Rhaenyra were the first to leave. y/n sat in her seat staring at Otto, she cleared her throat and stood up smoothing her dress.

"Lord Hightower, I am sure you are happy with your little victory." y/n began staring at the tall, elderly man. "My brother is a fool to not notice your schemes but be certain I do. Your daughter may become Queen and have children with the King but be certain they will be raised far away from you and your plots. I will personally see to that." Otto chuckled.

"You may claim to do so as you wish princess, but soon you will wed and travel to Dorne with no influence in court." The Hightower recounted, the princess only smiled.

"You're a fool to believe that power resides with a person... I will leave you with that Lord Hand. Rest well." y/n said and left the small council chamber.

...

110 AC Red Keep, King's Landing

Viserys's greatest dream came true, Alicent delivered a healthy son just nine month after their wedding. But not all was well. The war in the stepstones has been raging for over two years, the sea snake along with the rogue prince have been losing against the triarchy. The court however did not concern themselves with the crab feeder, preferring to celebrate the second name day of Prince Aegon.

“y/n?” Rhaenyra asked peering over her aunt’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” The red-eyed girl muttered, her eyes focused on the heavy book before her.

“Might I join you?” She questioned not waiting for permission, leaning on the great weirwood tree. The delicate strums of Samwell’s baliset brought the two princesses’ comfort in this tiring day.

“Your grace.” The bard stood up quickly bowing before the Hightower Queen.

“Did I order you to stop?” Rhaenyra asked annoyed, her head on the princess’s shoulder.

“Samwell go.” Alicent ordered, her voice confident so different from her usual shy demeanor.

“You are to stay by the order of your princess.” y/n hid a smirk turning over another page. She heard the retreating footsteps of the player and sighed deeply, Rhaenyra and Alicent two former friends exchanged sad words. Rhaenyra's anger was justified, her father and dearest friend betrayed her.

“Let us leave Rhaenyra, the carriages will not wait for our tardiness.” y/n mused standing up taking Rhaenyra by her hand and brushing past Alicent.

...

y/n sighed sipping the red wine, glancing at the ladies of the court. Alicent pregnant with her second child sat next to you, engaged in some boring conversation with lady Redwyne. She glanced seeing her brother drown himself in cups of wine.

“Excuse me, my Queen.” She said leaving the suffocating company she was ordered to stay with. The black and bronze leather attire y/n wore moved gracefully with her movements. Walking to Viserys she glanced at the servant next to him.

“Bring a chair.” She ordered, the heels of her shoes thudded against the carpeted stairs. The servant placed a heavy woodened chair on the left of his grace, she nodded thankfully dismissing the boy. “Viserys.” The king sluggishly glanced his siblings way.

“What is it sister?” He asked, his words slurred due to over indulgence in wine.

“I have come to see how you are.” she answered, her brother laughed, pouring himself another goblet.

“My daughter avoids me like a plague, the court bothers me with possible matches for her. I cannot celebrate my son’s second name day in peace!” He raised his voice glancing at the lord and ladies before him. y/n took his gloved hand circling her thumb on his palm.

“Perhaps you should let Rhaenyra choose her own match?” She proposed, Viserys nodded and smiled gently.

“Perhaps you are right. You know her best after all... y/n you are seven and ten, maybe if you married first Rhaenyra would follow." Viserys said.

"Grandsire has wanted me to marry Qoren since I was small." She mumbled thinking of the dark haired boy she has met years ago.

After retiring to Dorne, Qoren's mother princess Mara died of an illness. At just four and ten he became the prince of Dorne. His duties kept him in Sunspear, despite the many years apart you often wrote to each other and the feeling you have once held for him didn't disappear.

"Do you want to marry him?" Viserys questioned and you nodded.

"I do. When we were children we promised each other that we would marry."

"In nine years much can change." Viserys answered.

"To break this engagement would jeopardize our very fragile relationship with the south." His grace hummed and gulped the wine.

"It is settled then, I shall send word to Dorne that it is high time you married."

"Let me break the news to Rhaenyra first, if she hears that you are forcing me away from her side she will hate you even more."

Viserys chuckled sadly and nodded.

"How is it that my daughter despises the thought of marriage but you accept and yearn for it?" Your brother asked.

"I have always known I would have to marry... and grandsire wished to see me happy. I met Qoren and I have fallen for him but it seems the gods did not want us to be together for long."

"I want you to be content, happy even. If marrying the Prince will make you so I see no reason to refrain." Her eyes widened slightly and a warm smile appeared on her lips.

"I would like that." She said and pressed a kiss to Viserys's cheek.

t/n sighed leaning into her chair, she observed curiously as the court whispered and laughed among themselves. Seeing many of her spiders mingle with the rest of the nobles.

“Where is Aegon?" y/n questioned wanting to see her nephew, Viserys shrugged in response. She ordered one of the maids to lead the way to the young prince.

The little boy only two, played alone with his wooden dragons, a gift for his nameday. y/n nodded at the maids stationed to take care of him to leave.

“Aegon?” The little boy glanced up, his violet eyes widening and a wide smile appearing on his chubby face.

“y/n!” He exclaimed running towards her, chuckling she picked him up into her arms. Despite the indifference Rhaenyra held for her little brother y/n took kindly to Aegon. After all he was her nephew.

“Do you want to go on a horse ride with me?” She questioned petting Aegon’s silver locks. He nodded eagerly bouncing in her arms.

“Where is father?” Aegon questioned, he played with the reigns of your horse sitting in front of her.

“Your father is very busy as a King he has many responsibilities.” She answered, Viserys was not a good father nonetheless she didn't want to poison his own son against him. Aegon stayed quiet for most of the ride leaning into his aunt's body. “Perhaps I shall take you with me to Dorne.” She proposed and the Prince nodded happily.

"y/n with me!" The princeling demanded, a chuckle left his aunt's lips.

"Yes Aegon, you'll be with me. We will fly together, eat fruit and play, yes?" She questioned.

"Yes!" He exclaimed happily hugging his aunt.

...

Letters were exchanged between his Grace King Viserys and Prince Qoren discussing the arrangement, and soon the realm awaited the wedding of Princess y/n Targaryen and Prince Qoren Martell.

Rhaenyra begrudgingly accepted the news of her aunt's impending marriage, but the realm's delight still refused to marry. Rhaenyra agreed to search for a husband though it took Viserys's threat of removing her status as heir to the Iron Throne to convince her. Rhaenyra along with her aunt and half brother toured the seven kingdoms. The last royal procession was held by Jaehaerys and his sister wife Alysanne. In that way Rhaenyra reminded the realm of the rightful heir as well as scour for possible consorts as her father ordered.

y/n held Aegon in her lap as Rhaenyra interviewed possible matches. She noted down in her journal all the men who have asked for an audience with the princess, giggling to herself as Rhaenyra shooed them away with clever insults.

“The princess has a dragon you dumb cunt!” One of the contenders mocked the Blackwood boy, the two princesses snorted as the crows laughed. The mood has turned sour once the two nobles decided to bring out their swords, deciding it was time to go Rhaenyra her aunt and half-brother left in boredom.

Rhaenyra approached her aunt after talking with her sworn shield.

“Do you think father will be mad that I ended the tour two moons early?” The heir jested leaning on the railing of the ship taking them back to King’s landing. y/n chuckled leaning on the princess’s shoulder.

“I think he will be delighted to see you.” She mused, her brows furrow hearing the flapping of wings above the ship. The crew looked up searching for the culprit. Soon the ship has been swayed by Caraxes’s wings, Daemon atop the blood wyrm. y/n grasped Rhaenyra’s hand aiming to balance herself from the swaying of the boat.

...

y/n watched curiously as her half-brother strode proudly through the great hall. A wooden crown atop his short silver hair, black sister sheathed atop his hip. Viserys dressed in royal attire sat at the iron throne, the crown once worn by King Jaehaerys atop his own head.

Daemon stopped at the stairs leading to the throne, glancing at the king’s guard pointing their own weapons at Daemon’s chest. A smirk painted on his lips; he threw the sword of his fallen enemy at Viserys’s feet.

“Add it to the throne, your grace.” He mused a smile appearing on your own lips. Two brothers happily reunited after almost three years. The court applauded the reconciliation of Baelon's sons. y/n quietly retreated to her chambers preparing for the feast Viserys was going to throw in honor of their brother returning.

“What do you think I should wear?” Rhaenyra turned around; her body covered with a thin linen shirt. y/n glanced at the two dresses that were held by the maids.

“The golden one.” She mused sinking her teeth in the sweet fig, already dressed in a pale violet dress embedded with gold dragons. “You'll look beautiful in it.”

“All right then, can you help me braid my hair?” y/n nodded and stood from the comfortable armchair, skillfully braided her hair. She hummed an old Valyrian nursery rhyme as she worked on Rhaenyra’s silver hair.

The princess hummed leaning into her touch as she kissed the crown of her head. Together the two walked to the godswood where the fest was being held. y/n was excited to see Daemon after all of those years.

“Mandia” Daemon whispered, y/n smiled as she saw her half-brother. After reminiscing with his brother and exchanging pleasantries with the guests attending, he walked towards the table covered in various dishes. (Sister)

“Lēkia” y/n answered taking a sip from the golden goblet in her hands. “Aōha ōghar… Nyke ȳdra daor hae ziry.” She mused staring at his short silver hair, not the only thing that changed about your brother. (Brother/ Your hair…I don’t like it.)

“Iksan sīr mundagon naejot rȳbagon bona” Daemon laughed taking a seat next to his sister. (I am so sad to hear that)

"Eman jeldan naejot ūndegon ao syt sīr bōsa" Baelon's youngest son muttered after a moment of silence (I have longed to see you for so long)

"Lo konir sagon drēje pār ao would daor vīlībagon isse iā vīlībāzma" y/n mused playing with the golden rings on her fingers. Daemon snorted and nodded, the siblings watched as the court mingled with each other. The almost picturesque moment was interrupted by Alicent's son running toward his aunt and uncle. Aegon laughed as y/n smiled and picked the boy up. Daemon watched with disdain in his eyes as his sister smiled at the little tower. (If that is true then you would not fight in a war.)

"Gaomagon daor jurnegon rȳ zirȳ hae bona" y/n said sternly placing Aegon in her lap. (Do not look at him like that)

"Issi se trēsi hen bona kasta līve" He spoke venom dripping from his lips. (He is the son of that green whore)

y/n gaze hardened at the obvious hatred Daemon held for the innocent child, it is not Aegon's fault that their mother is Alicent.

"Issi riñar, pōnta gōntan daor iderēbagon syt zirȳla naejot sagon pōja muña" she hissed "Kesrio syt nyke jurnegon tolī zirȳ Alicent se zirȳla kepa emagon daor ōregon toliot zirȳ" (He is a child, he did not choose for her to be his mother/ Because I look after them Alicent and her father have no hold over them.)

Daemon hummed in approval accepting his sister's fondness over the little tower.

"You will make a great mother." Daemon said as he stared fondly at his sister.

"I think I will become a mother sooner or later..." She mused leaning against her brothers shoulder.

"How so?" He asked

"I am too marry, Daemon. In a month or two Qoren will arrive and we will wed." y/n told her brother. She could feel Daemon's muscles tense, a scowl appeared on his features. "Do not fret brother, you may visit me to your hearts content." She chuckled.

...

Princess y/n along with the crowned heir Princess Rhaenyra and her half brother Prince Aegon toured the seven kingdoms. The last royal progress was held almost fifty years ago during the reign of King Jaehaerys I. The crown agreed to the excursion thanks to the princesses y/n input she convinced the small council of the benefits that would aid the realm. In the same year prince Daemon Targaryen returned to court after three years of war in the stepstones. Despite the aversion the court held towards the rogue prince, princess y/n enjoyed her half-brothers presence. Many saw them take strolls throughout Rhaenys's gardens and fly on dragon back together.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targeryan

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

KATY THINK OF THIS (IM THAT ONE ANON THAT SAID ABOUT RUNAWAY PRINCESS X PIRATE HOBIE AND I WANNA ADD TO IT)

what if she’s running because she’s getting married to this shitty aristocracy that her family arranged and she running away from that and ends up meeting ways with a pirate. Hobie probably doesn’t know she’s this princess and falls in love but news breaks out as always she gets found and forced to marry that aristocracy and Hobie’s basically gets betrayed. (Live laugh love)

Btw other anon can use this idea or make their own version

Aahhhhh anon I'm so sorry but this took on a life of its own 😭😭😭 but I ended it open ended just in case someone requests something in this au!! So sorry that this pivoted from the prompt, ly thank you for requesting ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x Princess! reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW blood, CW violence.

A/N: If you want more princess! Reader x Pirate! Hobie, @pinksugarscrub has a few fics with them!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Marriage, it's supposed to be a happy occasion. One where it's supposed to be filled with laughter and dancing with your family and your new family. Looking forward to your new life with the love of your life. Not whatever the hell your father arranged for you.

As you hide from your handmaiden below deck together with your dowry which is basically a barn full of chickens and cows, their noises hide your frustrated groans from trying to rip your gown from your body. You've had enough of the silky fabric and its luscious lace, you've hatched a plan, a plan to escape from the loveless marriage that will fall on you once you step out of your father's ship. You were not dubbed ‘the realm's problem princess’ for nothing.

Whilst your sisters were called ‘the realm's delight’ or ‘the realm's most beautiful’, but, as the seventh daughter out of twelve siblings, you were not granted a title befitting of you. Even though you're not the heir or even the spare, you were given something much more priceless than a piece of land or castle, no, you were given freedom. Freedom to whisk away every night to mingle with the common folk, freedom to run around the castle without getting reprimanded by your royal parents. Why would they even blink an eye at your so-called debauchery when you're the seventh and not the eldest or even the youngest?

But that sense of freedom that they have given you has now backfired on them. You absolutely refused to marry a stranger from another country, and for political gain nonetheless. You fought everyone to not be sent away from your home. You kicked knights in their steel clad groins, you punched footmen right under their chins. The last straw apparently was when you tried to stow away on a merchant ship whilst you were disguised as a common boy, to which your father and his adviser did not appreciate.

“it’s for the good of the realm,” they said, “I secured an advantageous marriage for you” they said. Well they can shove that marriage contract up where the sun doesn't shine. If your father's adviser was so keen on marrying the strange royal then he should just marry him instead.

You grumble obscenities under your breath, a chicken tilts its head at your frustrations. The fabric of the skirt finally rips away from your hips, leaving you in only your petticoat and corset. A locket tumbles off from the sewn pocket inside the skirt. You almost forgot about the damn thing in your haste to get away.

Grabbing the golden locket, you don't even sneak one last peek at the painting inside, a painting that depicts your so-called fiancé. He's not ugly per se, but he seems…boring. Too boring for you at least. All his correspondence to you were lackluster, his poems lacking heart and character. You surmise that it was written by someone else ever since you've heard rumours of his illiteracy.

You huff, throwing it on the pile of fabric. A cow moos next to you, and you spare her a glare.

“This is for the best, Belinda.” You've named her after your handmaiden. Belinda has been your only friend since your journey. “I don't want to get married off to some strange man, to live in a strange land. And to never see my siblings, not even during the holidays!” You put on trousers that you've stolen from one of the sailors accompanying you. “I'd rather risk it out in the sea than be a wife.” Miraculously, the trousers fit perfectly. “Finally, something right goes my way today. Let's hope this luck continues.”

As you say those words, the ship lunges harshly to the side, knocking you off your feet then flinging you against the hardwood. Vision swirling, the poor animals cry out in their cages, you think they're crying out based on their frantics faces since your ears seem to only hear that high pitched ringing sound.

Dust falls on you like snowflakes, looking above, the dust comes from the deck. Before you could stand up, the ship lunges once again. You slide on the floor, together with the crates and cages.

Your vision finally clears moments before Belinda's cage smashes into you. Frantically, you crawl aside, the metal cage missing your foot by only a few inches.

“Are you hurt?!” You ask the cow as if she can talk back. Belinda moos loudly, you now notice your hearing coming back. And you just now notice the warm crimson sliding down your forehead and down to your lashes. Blinking away, you wipe it, blood coating your palms, heart pumping rapidly, you panic. “Oh, shit.”

You need help, but you backtrack as the sounds from above get louder and louder as your hearing finally normalizes. Screams and gunshots can be heard, cannons are going off from your left, and you're absolutely petrified.

You just want to go home. This isn't exactly what you pictured when your brothers tell you of their feats while at sea.

The animals in their cages cry out in the same panic that swells in your chest. If you want to run away, they must want the same thing. In your fear-addled brain, you grab the set of keys that are set on the wall to open each of their cages. The chickens cluck and scamper away the second you open their cage, while the bigger animals are much more apprehensive. You coach them out of their enclosure, Belinda is the first one out, and the rest follows.

Something hits the hull of the ship, the sheer force knocking you to your knees. A split second later, you feel water under your trousers. Looking over your shoulders, you see water seeping through the gaping hole. And you notice that you're now alone below deck.

Trudging the rising water towards the stairs, someone familiar calls after you, her voice is hoarse yet you can recognize it even in your sleep.

“Princess!” Belinda calls, the real Belinda.

“I'm here!” You yell back, the water now reaching to your hips.

She quickly comes down the stairs, she gasps, eyes wide with panic. “My girl! Come hurry!” Hand reaching towards you, you thank your older brother for teaching you how to swim.

You finally reach her before the water could drown you. Belinda sighs in relief as she yanks you away from the freezing water.

“What were you thinking!” She roams her eyes towards your clothes, or the lack of it. Half hugging you, shielding you away from wandering eyes, she guides you towards the deck.

“I didn't cause this!” You defend yourself, shivering from the cold, regretting ripping off your warm gown.

“I know you didn't, stupid girl! We're getting sacked by pirates!” Belinda practically screams in your ears, and your blood runs cold. She groans when she sees the blood coating half of your face. She murmurs something about getting sacked once she gets home. Or was it axed?

“Pirates?!” You remember all the stories your older brothers told you. ‘Be wary of the sea, for they hold sinister beings’ they said, and you thought they were talking about sea monsters. You grew up, and now you know they weren't exactly talking about mythical beings. “Oh sh–” Belinda side eyes you. “Shucks!” In your peripheral, you spot cow belinda eating cabbage inside the galley.

Your handmaiden leads you down the hallway, “we need to hide you!” Her body shakes from fear at what they would do to a princess like you.

“What about you?” And you fear for her safety.

“I'll be alright, princess, I'll live but you might not.”

“What the fuck!” You let out not because of what she said but because of the large man waiting at the end of the corridor.

“We're dead.” Belinda says nonchalantly, as if this was a regular occurrence for her.

“You the princess?” He asks gruffly, his cutlass shines from the sun beaming through the window. The scars on his bare chest and the tattoo on his neck scares the living out of you.

“...no?” You say meekly. “You're on the wrong ship, mister. No princess here!” Your voice squeaks.

“This is ‘the raven's beak’, right?” He raises a thick eyebrow.

“...no” a big fat lie on your end that you hope he did not see through you.

He looks down at you, you can practically see the cogs in his head turn.

“We'll be going now, sir.” Belinda chuckles nervously. Just as you're about to escape the pirate, he grabs your bare shoulders. Your handmaiden immediately takes your hand.

“Hold on, you're not going anywhere. That corset is too pretty and intricate for some wench.” He drags you away whilst Belinda tries her best to yank you away, and in turn she gets dragged too. Her heels scrape against the wood, her face turning red from frustration.

“A wench!” You scoff, fruitlessly elbowing him. “Ow!” Your elbow hurts, it's like you punched a wall.

The stranger chuckles, “Time to meet the captain.”

“Wait, are you going to kidnap me?!”

“Of course we will.” He says matter of factly. Belinda continues to hold your hand but she has given up from trying to take you away from the large man. “For ransom.”

You burst into laughter, the man raises a brow at the sudden outburst. Belinda cocks her head at your strange behavior.

“Oh that's funny!” You continue to giggle even when you finally reach the deck. The sun hits your skin, warming your wet clothes. The smell of gunpowder makes your nose itch.

Both pirates and captured sailors look at you having a laughing fit. Your eyes water, and your chest is hurting from all the laughing. The man sets you down right next to the bound sailors. Head in your hands, giggling subsiding, fear encapsulates you again, and now you refuse to look up.

“Havin' a giggle, eh?” A voice asks.

“Yep.” You pop the p in your mouth, face still hidden from your captors.

“Is this fun to you, princess?” A feminine voice pipes up from your right.

“Not one bit!”

“She doesn't look like a princess, you sure it's her?” Another unknown voice asks.

“Not sure, Pav.” You feel someone crouch in front of you. The leather from his clothes squeaks, metals clinking together as he moves. “Maybe if the princess graces us with her beautiful face we can identify her?”

“Nope, not doing that.”

“C’mon, love, we're not going to hurt you. Your father wouldn't pay us if we did.”

“It's funny that you think my father will actually pay the ransom.” Your voice is still muffled by your hands.

“Why's that?” He asks softer.

“He doesn't like me, if you got one of my brothers then he will surely pay you.” You take your hands away, eyes going wide for a second once your vision is blessed by the handsome pirate. Clearing your throat, fixing your composure, you ignore the smirk on his pierced lips. “Y-you’re shit out of luck because you got me instead.”

“Nah,” he tilts his head with a smile. “I think I got lucky.”

Your cheeks are suddenly warm, you don't think it's from the sun. Hands clammy, you nervously laugh.

Surprisingly, he laughs with you. “Captain Hobie Brown,” he introduces himself. Your instincts kick in, but before you could introduce yourself, he smiles genuinely at you. A smile that has his eyes crinkling in the corners, a smile that weirdly fills you with comfort. “I know who you are, princess. And I know your father will pay the ransom.”

You knit your eyebrows. “How would you know?”

“Easy, you're his favourite.”

“Bullshit, now that's funny.”

“A princess' face but with the mouth of a sailor. I think you'd fit right in with us, hm?” Hobie takes his coat off to drape it on your bare shoulders. “Your sailors were frothing at the mouth.”

“W-what?” Sure enough, when you turn your head to the side, you see your father's men quickly avert their eyes.

“Why don't we strike a deal?” His grey eyes twinkles in the sun. It reminds you of when the light hits the water just right whenever you look out your bedroom window.

“Do not, princess! He's a liar! All pirates are.” Belinda scoffs at the pirate right before a blond woman stuffs her mouth with a piece of cloth.

Despite the warning, you're curious. “What deal?”

“Come with us,” he whispers lowly, just for your ears to hear. “Let's deceive your father and your fiancé, we get their money and you get out of your marriage. Easy.”

“That doesn't sound easy.”

“Nothing in life is.”

“How would you do it?” You roam your eyes around his face for any clue if he's lying. You don't find any.

“Come aboard, and you'll find out.” Hobie stands up, hand stretched out for you.

“Sounds like a trap.” You look up with a growing smile. “But it's better than getting married.” To Belinda's disapproval, you take his hand.

“Good choice—” You pull at his hand hard, eyes threatening, grip getting stronger, stronger than a princess should.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hobie. Trust me, whatever you're planning, let’s hope my fiancé doesn't actually care about me.” Something passes by your eyes. “If he does, if what you tell me is true, then my father's army will be the least of your worries.”

A grin spreads across his face, the silver he wears is glinting just like his grey eyes. “I know of your fiancé, and your warmongering brothers.” He leans closer to your bewildered face, “do you think I need the money? When I have them?” Leaning away, he takes a step back to show you his fleet, a fleet that could even rival your father's and your fiancé’s combined. Their flags wave in the wind, red sails dancing in the breeze. “What do you say, love? Would you rather get married, or stay and listen to my plan?”

You grin back, “I've heard of you,” the infamous pirate captain smugly smiles. “Let's hear your plans then, captain.”

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biteofcherry · 4 months

Note

Happy Wetnessday 💦

I think it's time for some King Steve, don't you? Here's a little this or that for your life with him:

modern day or medieval times

arranged marriage or king falling for "peasant"

summer or winter solstice wedding

castle in the nature or city centre

reads to you before bed or cuddles by the fireplace

No matter what you choose he's completely smitten and can't let his hands off you.

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

STEEVIE 🥹💖 back in my arms ❤️

And King Steve on top of it? You spoil me, Wetnessday Anon! Thank you!

I'd pick medieval times, because I'm in deep need of wearing beautiful gowns daily, not just for shmancy galas. Also more forests and fields than skyscrapers and yelling car drivers. Besides, I want Steve with a sword, not just some ceremonial stick 😎

While I love me some romantic falling for who you shouldn't be with, I was never actually fond of such drastic class difference romance? Idk, I always thought of them to be bullshit in the making and maintaining 😂 How about we mix it up a bit? An arranged marriage, but not with a Princess equal to Steve's status, but perhaps a daughter/sister of a knight who was Steve's very loyal, close friend, but after death you'd be left with no protection and possibly some nasty distant uncle would claim all everything and decide on your marriage. So Steve arranges for your marriage to him, to protect you. And no one would dare make any claims on you and your dowry when the king himself has taken you.

The castle is built on a hill, overlooking the grounds below and the wide, blue ribbon of river crossing right next to it. There are fields and forests around; a long main road with hawthorns growing on both sides and blooming beautifully in spring.

Steve is absolutely wonderful. Your marriage may have happened due to his strong sense of duty and protectiveness, but he doesn't close his heart on the love that blooms between you two. He's absolutely smitten and most doting. Sometimes he will read out to you some formal replies, seeking your opinion, and sometimes you will visit him when he reads piles of letters, requests and reports. You'd pick one of the letters and read it in a silly, mocking voice to make Steve laugh. But one of your favorite ways to spend time with Steve alone, with no duties to fulfill, is to be in his arms as you sit by the fireplace, drinking some mead or wine and just enjoying the quiet, or some hushed intimate conversation.

Though you also love to go on rides with him. Especially in winter, when you're bundled in most lush coat lined with fur and Steve holds you in his embrace as you sit in front of him on his horse. Winter rides remind you of your winter wedding. How the light from the torches stuck in the snow reflected in the frosty layer as you were lead through the courtyard. The evergreens weaved into your hair, as a symbol for the solstice, white gold of the stunning jewelry you were gifted as brilliant as the sparkling snow. Steve awaited you at the bottom of the stairs and then, hand holding yours, lead you up and into the main hall where you were married.

It's also on winter solstice that you give birth to your first child (and Steve gets so happy drunk on mead he forgets you're married and asks you to be his queen 😆)

#Wetnessday Anon #reply #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #king!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine

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royaltysimblr · 3 months

Text

Charles, Prince of the Isle (1828-1875)

read about him below!!

The long-awaited prince was born in 1828 to Queen Mary III and her husband, Prince Charles, the Earl of Statford. Queen Mary showered her son and heir in love and attention while ignoring her older daughters. Prince Charles recieved an extensive education which was overseen by his father. The young prince was intelligent, bright, and cheerful despite being sickly most of his life. After his father's death in 1847, the prince spent more time with his family, with his mother heavily relying on him during her mourning period. Charles attended the Imperial University of Windenburg from 1848-1850.

In 1852, Charles became engaged to Princess Sophie Alexandrine of Mannheim, his distant relative. Charles fell in love with her the previous summer while she was visiting relatives in San Myshuno. His mother, Queen Mary wanted her son to marry a bride from a country which had more prospects. Sophie Alexandrine was a minor princess whose second-cousin was the Grand Duke of Mannheim, who ruled a small insignificant country. The princess also lacked a dowry and was a few years past the marriagable age of the era (She was almost 25) . Despite this, Mary allowed her son to propose after months of convincing. Sophie Alexandrine arrived in Windenburg two months before the wedding was scheduled and resided with her relatives who had grace and favour apartments at Kingston Palace. The Prince would visit his future bride almost every single day with the company of a chaperone. The couple enjoyed long walks and playing music together, with the prince playing piano, and the princess playing the harp. A month before the wedding, Sophie Alexandrine suffered from a fever which would result in her death. Charles was devastated from the death of his betrothed and would never be the same again. The prince demanded that Sophie Alexandrine have a funeral as if she was a Princess of the Isle, which Queen Mary agreed with. The Princess was buried at the Royal Burial Ground in San Myshuno, despite not yet being a member of the royal family. The court remained in mounring for eight weeks.

Queen Mary described her poor son as "a shell of his former self". The Prince refused to eat anything for days at a time and would never leave his apartments for months. The prince began to lose a considerable amount of weight causing Queen Mary to worry for her son. As the years went by, Charles gradually recovered from the death of his fiance. Most Windenburgians assumed that Charles would never marry and would later be succeeded by his younger brother, Edward who had gotten married in 1857. In 1863, Prince Edward became gravely ill with the Bricehster Flu, remaining bedridden for weeks. Prince Edward eventually recovered, but the Queen used this situation to urge Charles to marry. After two months, the Prince eventually relented and allowed his mother and sisters to find a potential bride. After rejecting many suitors, Princess Odette suggested her husband's cousin, Infanta Maria Christina of Selvadorada. The bride was beautiful and well educated, and like her husband enjoyed music. After meeting twice in Champes Les Sims, the couple became engaged that year.

In 1863, at the age of 35, the Prince was married to Infanta Maria Christina of Selvadorada. The Prince's mood initially became better after his marriage to the infanta, however Maria Christina gave birth to a stillbirth daughter on the anniversary of Sophie Alexandrine's death, leaving the Prince in a state of severe depression. In 1866, Maria Christina gave birth to a daughter, Princess Alexandra who would later on become Queen Alexandra II. Charles was delighted by the birth of his daughter and would spend an extraordinary amount of time with her. In 1869, Maria Christina suffered from a difficult pregnancy which would result in her death. Maria Christina gave birth to twins, Prince Henry, and Princess Charlotte. Maria Christina died in labor, and her son would die the next day. Charles was heartbroken after the death of his wife and son, and secluded himself away from court. Charles would never return, and spent most of his time at Dunkeld Palace in Victoria. The Prince rarely saw his children as they reminded him of his deceased wife.

In 1870, the Prince was remarried to Princess Adelaide of Brichester, a cousin of his first wife. Although Charles never wanted to marry again, his overbearing mother encouraged the match and stressed the importance of having a mother figure in her granddaughters lives. The prince ignored his new wife and continued to live seperately from her in Victoria. In the absence of their father, Princess Adelaide raised Alexandra and Charlotte herself, overseeing their education and wellbeing. In 1875, Charles succumbed to a fever and died alone at his lodge in Victoria. His daughter, Alexandra became heir to the throne and would succeed her grandmother, Queen Mary II, as the new Queen of Windenburg in 1885.

#statfordlegacy #sims4 #legacy #sims #royallegacy #royalty #ts4 royals #ts4 #ts4 royal #ts4 legacy #render #ts4 render #sims 4 render #extras

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tylermileslockett · 7 months

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An Impossible Task (#3 in my "Quest for the Gorgon Head" series

Perseus was lovingly raised into a fine young man by the fisherman who found them. Amazingly, the fisherman’s brother was King Polydectes, the ruler of Seriphos. One evening Perseus is invited to a secret banquet within the king’s hall. It is revealed the party is for guests to offer gifts to the king for a dowry to marry a neighboring princess. Many aristocrats lead fine horses before the king in generous offerings, until finally, Perseus is called up to present his contribution. The boy, unprepared, stands empty handed. Eager to prove his worth, the young man offers to acquire anything the king wishes, even “the Head of a dreaded gorgon”, he jokingly adds. The hall echoes in chuckles. But the king does not laugh. For king Polydectes, secretly desiring Perseus’ mother Danae, has cleverly devised this trap to dispose of the boy. The king immediately agrees to Perseus’ impossible suggestion. Perseus, keeping his composure, gracefully bows and retires. But how on earth can he ever hope to accomplish such an unimaginable task? He will need help. Help from the gods.

Here we have an example of what Joseph Campbell deems the “Call to adventure.” This is the point in a myth or fairytale where the protagonist is either offered or forced into a quest. Sometimes the hero will turn down the call, but in the end, the journey must commence, or else we have no story.

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years

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The Winter Sun (3)

3. A call for help

MASTERLIST

Summary: You decide to take your future into your own hands, sort of.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoif customs, bullying, arrasment, incest (c’mon is HotD), AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, might miss some warnings

+ 18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.3k

Notes: Thank you for following another one of my madnesses HAHA anyways LAST TIME JUMP PEOPLEEEE, from now on… no more, this is it! they are getting closer and closer.

128 AC. Reader is 18 years old

Too much has happened in the last two years…

King Viserys was dying, he was bed bound, nobody could see him, but the Queen and Otto, and they ruled the Kingdoms nows, they claimed that in their name, but you knew the large amount of milk of the poppy they were supplying the k=King, you knew he couldn’t take decisions any longer.

Helaena now had three children with her brother-husband Aegon, they were adorable children.

Aemond stalked you silently, in his face every time he looked at you was wonder and hope, but you gave no signs back to him that you were replying to his feelings

You were secretly finding your own love match, but to no avail.

Every suitable man that you like even a little bit, was scared off quite easily, especially after one or two times that would strike conversation with you, you started to think you were unlikeable. Unknown to you at the time, it was Aemond who threatened to feed them to Vhagar if they ever even looked at you again.

You started to believe nobody could ever want you.

You knew the real history, that your parents never married, that would make you a bastard, legitimized, but a bastard nonetheless. When you were younger, the King would hear none of it, referring to you as his very Targaryen niece, you had the coloring of the house of old Valyria to prove it.

But perhaps the word and legitimization of a king wasn’t enough to the Lords of the Kingdoms, perhaps they found you hideous and unbearable. Even with the sizable dowry that came from taxes of the lands your father owned, and you now did.

Fear of being eaten by a dragon certainly surpassed every man’s desire for the young beautiful princess.

Not even freaking Dorne would take you

“We don’t dance with dragons”, had said the prince when you came close to strike a conversation with him.

And that is how your eighteen name day found you, unmarried and with no prospects, it was a matter of days before you were betrothed to Aemond, you knew it, everybody knew it.

And you were growing desperate.

Jacaerys was betrothed to Baela, not that he was a better choice for you than Aemond himself anyways

But perhaps he was… but he was taken.

They prepared a small feast in your honor that day, with your favorite meals, and a selective group of people of court in the private dining room, and you were grateful, but not very happy about it.

It had been a quiet day, you took a ride on Vhaelar, went to the God’s Eye for a small picnic, you even took Joanna with you.

It had been a quiet day, and as you looked at your plate in front of you, you look up to find Aemond’s gaze in you, he sported a sly little smile as he drink his wine casually

It made your skin crawl

After the dinner Steffon wouldn’t leave your side, and you were thankful for it

“There is a late night council meeting”, he told you, and you looked up to him wide eyed. “to discuss your future”, you gasped

“Can you tell me what they speak off?”

“I won’t be in it, but you might…”, he said, he guided you to the council room, you hid around the corner, waiting for everyone to enter, Steffon went to his Lord Commander, entered the room for a few moments, and then he got out again.

As Steffon was leaving the small council room, he looked at you and with a movement of his head, you knew what to do. He pointed to a small door behind a big base, it was hidden to the unknown eye, but you were starting to learn about all the secret passageways around The Red Keep.

So you sneaked in. After a small passageways of stone, you came to a wooden chair, placed by the side of a decorative wall, with a flowery steel design, behind it, you could clearly see and hear the small council meeting

“The matter of the betrothal of the Princess (Y/N)” said Otto, and your ears perked up, “we can’t postpone it much longer, she just turned eight and ten, it’s time”

“We need to arrange a good match for her” admitted the master of laws

“She received a ton of proposals when she became of age two years ago, we replied to none and now, nobody will answer our letters”, muttered Jason Lannister, “her time has passed…”

“The king wanted her to figure out who she wanted to marry”, clarified Alicent

“More like Aemond scared away all of the suitors”, said the Lannister.

“If King Viserys hadn't had more children, he would have named Aegon his heir to the throne instead of Rhaenyra, everybody knows this”, continued Lord Beesbury

“So what?”, asked Otto.

“So what? So plenty! She is his daughter! Many loved Aegon more than they ever loved Rhaenyra and Daemon, they might see her as the true heir”, said Jason

“Viserys has three male heirs!” Fought Otto, “and Rhaenyra, also a woman”, he said dismissively

“It is of no consequence”, said another, “we must betrothed her now”, muttered again the lord of laws, which of whom you never learned the name of

“With who?”

“Send her away from court”, muttered the same one

“What about Aemond?”, you heard Queen Alicent ask, and it froze your blood, “the King had been dragging him along for three years since he asked for her hand, he said he was going to think about it!” She cried

“I know what he said”, answered the hand, “but we cannot marry all of your children amongst one another, Aemond must marry a good lady, a first born woman of a great house, to secure alliances”

“I agree”

“What better ally than a dragon? and the vale?”, asked Jason

“There is… Cregan Stark”, said Lord Beesbury, and that lit up your heart with hope

“The wolf? Why him?”, asked Otto

“He stands alone, a widower, no heirs to Winterfell…”

“The north?”, repeated Otto

“Imagine the strength of this alliance! Bring in the North! No Targaryen has ever married a Stark”, continued the oldest man in the room

Silence again, and for once, you had hope

“No”, sentenced the Queen, “he has never shown interest, not even when she became of age, besides he is a savage, a pagan”, was the Queen’s fanaticism going to be your undoing?, “Aemond on the other hand…”

“What about Jacaerys?”

“He is betrothed to Baela Targaryen, his aunt”

“His aunt, or cousin? or his sister by law? Can’t keep count”, laughed Jason and then they all laughed with him

“We should send word to Stark”, said Lord Beesbury, “he is a good man and it will bring the North into the fold”

“My son and I, we are disappointed”, said the Queen

“Let’s offer her to Stark” sentenced Otto, “if he says no, we will marry her to Aemond before the next moon”

You whimpered, they were going to betrothed you to Aemond, if Cregan said no.

Aemond, your torturer, the person who made sure to make your life a living hell… he…

No way.

You had to take matters into your own hands. You had to make your own proposal, or else

You sneaked away, you needed to get out of the hallways near the council before they ended their meeting. And your mind was clouded with doubts and questions with no answer

Cregan Stark.

You haven't seen him in five long years, what you remember of him, there were all happy memories. He had always been kind to you, he had given you one of your favorite books, taken yours in return by anyways…

But he lived in the far North, the cold North. Once you went to White Harbor with your father, you went by boat, you had never felt more cold in your life. Besides, the lives of the Northerners were so much different than yours, southerners. The north was wild and unruly, some say it was each man for their own. They were rough and loyal, the blood of the first men pumping through their veins.

Would he say yes?

He had married Alysanne, she was from the Riverlands, perhaps… a little bit more South wouldn’t matter to him, right?

You smiled, contented

But a letter seemed too impersonal, only a name written on paper, perhaps he didn’t even remember you. Also, the royal court “suggesting” him who he should marry? again?

Did you even want to go to live up North? to marry Cregan? he should be around thirty right now, way older than you. Your cheeks heated. But he was always so kind and good. And he must have been so lonely, alone up there.

You could have your own family, create it.

You didn’t have more time to think about it, the very next day, that letter would be sent, and it would decide your fate.

But you had a family here, Viserys, your uncle, and Queen Alicent, and Helaena, and your little nephews…

And then you remembered Alicent shaming you for not praying to the Gods, her urgent eyes everytime you would do something or speak your mind, the way she pinches your arms when you would go out of line.

King Viserys who claims to care for you, and he did, but won’t even speak to you, he would defend his grandsons and sons instead of you when you went to him crying, saying that they were bullying you.

And Aemond… Aemond pushing you, making you trip, grabbing your arms so hard they bruised. His mean words and remarks.

The tension with cousin Rhaenyra, the “bastard” words being brought so often. She not even looking at you, and her sons tormenting you as well.

UNcle Daemon, who once on his cups had said that he hated even looking at you.

What will become of you once your uncle is dead? he had promised you you could go back home, but married, and he was so sick it wouldn’t matter what he promised you two years ago. You wouldn’t leave the Red Keep unmarried, that was for certain.

This family was bad for you.

Your father raised you far from it for a reason, you would always ask him why wouldn’t he answer the call of the throne, and he, once, looked you in the eyes and responded.

“Before I didn't care to take risks, because I was alone, and now I’m terrified, I will not go to the most dangerous place”, it was the Red Keep, the most dangerous place. He wanted you to have a life outside of it.

Far from it.

You nodded

This was the right thing to do

You weren’t sure you believed in the seven, but you sure believed in fate, this was fate.

It was decided.

You jumped from your bed, you dressed in your riding gear, the one for winter, in the insides it had fur, and then, you left your chambers, so excited, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

But it was raining, thunder could be heard in the distance.

Did you care? i certainly made you doubt, you wouldn't be able to see anything in the air, but the only thing you had to do was flight north, so… you still asked Steffon to accompanied you

“Are you sure this is what you want?”, he asked, concerned washing over his features

“I need to go North and charm the Lord of Winterfell”, you said with an apologetic smile, “I need to take my future in my own hands”

“I respect you for it”, he said with a shy smile, “But I’m going to miss you”, he said with a gentle smile

“I’ll come visit”, you said with a shy smile

“promise me you’ll tell me everything, I can go and fetch you”, he said, and you smiled

“I promise, I hope it works”, the carriage stopped in front of the pit and you couldn’t jump out fast enough.

Vhaelar was waiting for you, no doubt she had felt you as you neared it, and followed you as you guided her through the huge hallways of the pit to the outside.

She took flight with you on her back

Vhaelar fly easily through the storm clouds, she was a big dragon, took after her mother Vhagar. But the rain bothered you, soon you were drenched, grabbing at the reins tightly, you luckily were wearing gloves, but there was nothing you could do regarding your sight, clouded by the rain.

The thunder started to hit near you, you had flown through storms before, you liked it, but this time, something was wrong.

You felt a deep roar, it almost got confused by the storm, but you knew better, you looked up and you saw the biggest dragon in the whole freaking word

Vhagar

“Where are you going little cousin?”, you heard Aemond ask, because of the atmosphere of the storm you could hear him clearly

“Leave me alone!”, you cried, but Vhagar descented teasingly over you, Vhaelar did the same, soon you could see the earth underneath you, your dragon, was faster, but with two flaps of her wings VHagar disappeared amongst the clouds.

You whimpered in fear and your dragon roared angrily, feeling your distress, wanting to eliminate the cause of it

“Lykiri Vhaelar”, you tried, but you were trying to calm yourself. It wasn’t working.

“iksā ñuhon!”, you heard him scream, [YOU ARE MINE], and you trembled in fear.

As you looked up Vhagar huge claws were closing in on you, grabbed Vhaelar swiftly by the neck, but then released her.

Vhaelar roared, but this time, it was one of submission

“No! Vhaelar!”, you complained, and she flew alongside her mother. You could see Aemond now, he released the reins and offered his hand towards you. And you whimpered

“No”, you whined, grabbing the reins tightly, Vhaelar was turning to fly back to King’s Landing, and you cried silently for your defeat.

Vhaelar purred under you, wanting to console you and the she turned towards Vhagar, pushing her away, she twisted and but one of her wings in warning, Vhagar roared in pain, and Vhaelar took the opportunity to fly higher to the clouds, to hide amongst them, and as she was faster, you lost her.

You lost the Queen of dragons and Aemond riding her.

If anything this told you that you were doing the right thing. You were, you sighed relieved when the clouds cleared out, beyond the storm, and the night was beautiful. You smiled widely, this was it, you were flying towards your freedom.

You flew for the entire night, at one point, Vhaelar flew so close to the ground the tallest of trees could tickle her belly, but you couldn’t get lost, so you just followed the Kings road.

Your heart beat so fast you could hear it in your ears, but your smile as the ground tainted with white couldn’t be brighter, even if you were so cold your teeth clicked.

You passed the Neck and were in Northern territory, you passed over Moat Cailin and up the road you went. And what you saw marveled you, deep and dark green forests, snow in the ground, but little, since it was still early autumn. Your breath became cloudy, but you loved it.

You passed over a huge town, that you thought was Winterfell, but it wasn’t, it was Castle Cerwyn, you recognize the sigil. Many people came out of their houses that arly morning to watch you fly past, and you hope you didn’t scare them. You wouldn’t want them to think they were in danger or something.

Just a little more, you thought so happily, just a little more.

Two hours later, there it was.

You knew it was winterfell, the huge castle over the hill, with two outside walls, it made you think it had been there for thousands of years, and it was going to be there for thousands to come, even after you and everyone you ever met.

Their high circular towers with red tiles, and black stone. You could see their goodswood, the unmistakable red leaves of the heart tree.

It was beautiful

And under it’s watchful eye, the town you would think was Winter’s town

And again, people came out of their houses and you heard shouting. You worry, you commanded Vhaelar to fly down.

She landed heavily on the ground, making it shake under her incredible weight.

She cooed as you yourself landed on the ground

“Kesan sagon sȳz”, [I will be fine], you assured her, and she purred, making herself comfortable in the same spot as she curled on herself and lowered her head to take a nap, her demeanor was one of a large puppy, so people won’t be scared, you hoped.

You walked towards the big gates of the outer wall, swallowing hard.

This was insane

Had you actually flied across the continent to ask a man you haven't seen in five years to marry?

How insane was that?

You started to regret your decision when suddenly, the gates opened for you. You swallowed hard, fixing your riding gear, who had been wet, and then dried by the air, and it was a mess, oh no, how were you going to offer your own hand in marriage looking like that? Oh no, what have you done?

“My Lady, your name”, asked one of the guards that came to greet you, you smiled softly

“Princess (Y/N) of House Targaryen”, you said and he paled

“I’m very sorry your grace”, he said hastily

“You don’t need to be…”, he guided you inside the walls, and to the main courtyard where you could see the entire inside of the castle.

“PRINCESS (Y/N) OF HOUSE TARGARYEN!”, he shouted for the whole courtyard to hear, and you whimpered, surprised such a sweet looking man could be heard so loudly.

People started coming out of the castle to greet you, everyone saluted you by bowing their heads, and you smiled, nodded, and returned their greetings. But you look up, at the door leading to the main castle, and from it, emerged none other, than Cregan Stark himself

You recognize him anywhere, tall and wide, his haircut, his dark locks shaved on the side, the black fur cape dressing him. He went down the stairs to meet you, and you smiled at him

“My lord Stark”

“Welcome to Winterfell your grace”, he said, that smile he used to draw for you missing, his icy gray eyes had turned cold

“Thank you My lord Cregan”, you greeted back, as hopeful as you could

“Princess?”, he asked, walking towards you, “what are you doing here?”, he asked, a eyebrow raised

“I came with a proposal from the King”, you said, ignoring the cold that was clinging into your body, and drew a smile

“A proposal?”, he asked, curiosity perking his features

“A marriage”, you concluded

“A marriage proposal”, he did not seem intrigued, he seemed bothered by it, behind him there were some people that you guessed, were his master of arms, and the maester, and other lords. He seemed uninterested and cold, so you had to drop it, he did not seem amused by your shy demeanor like he would in the past.

“Between you, my lord, and me”, that was it, it was out, you stood straight and as tall, subconsciously showing your neck and puffing your chest a little, as well as smiling

“You?”, he asked, genuinely surprised

“I’ve come to offer my own hand in marriage”, you said firmly, but with a hopeful smile.

There was silence in the courtyard

“Yes!”, a young woman cheered from the battlements where she had been hearing all of it.

taglist!

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff

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