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misguidedasgardian · 11 months

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The Hour of the Wolf (3)

III. The Tower

MASTERLIST

Summary: People are coming and going

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, talks about bedding and non concensual sexual relationships, threats of mutilation, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon

Wordcount: 4.6 k

Notes: Sorry for the delay my loves! I’m travelling! and I’m so marveled by the things I see in real life that I’m having trouble entering into my magical world jeje

I must say… and warnings for spoilers for the chapter, but Maester Gerardys was brutally unalived by Aegon in Fire and Blood, yet I’m bringing him back to life because we need known faces in the keep! jeje I don’t want to made up so many characters!

I did not double check this for mistakes

So this is what she meant with “that could be easily arranged”, Cregan thought, as he saw his Queen petting the snout of her huge fearsome dragon

Vhaelar? She called it?

It was big, very big, not that he had many dragons to compare it to besides Jacaerys’ dragon, this one was much bigger

White, it was unusual, his scales lit up under the sun, giving him an unrealistic look, like the huge beast didn’t belong in this plain

He had just seen it burn eighteen men to dust and yet, the creature didn’t even spare him a look, he didn’t felt threatened by the dragon, like she wouldn’t hurt him, like she knew him

You were speaking to her, in a language he couldn’t understand, perhaps it was High Valyrian, only he heard you speak his name to the dragon

And then the beast directed her golden eyes directly at him. it was barely a second before she turned her whole attention back to you

You were speaking to her, and she understood you perfectly

The last child of Rhaenyra, the young Queen, the last dragon

An impulsive, broken young girl, young QUEEN, had the last dragon, the only one left

He smiled widely

You had the anger, and the power to back it up, you were going to be loved by your allies and feared by those who weren’t, and that was the perfect combinations, loved by millions, feared by them too

The huge beast raised her head, growling, you took some steps back and she took flight, her huge wingspan making his clothes flutter like it was the wind. You walked towards him with a soft smile on your face.

But the smile didn’t reach your eyes, it never did

“I thought the dragons in your family…”

“She didn’t rest on the pit, that is why she was spared from the traitor’s rage”, you referred to the common folk as traitors…

“The trials have come to an end, your grace”, he said surely

“Indeed”, you muttered

“Yet, I have send ravens to all corners of the realm, people from all over will come to swear their allegiance to you, so… busy weeks are coming”, he warned, you barely nodded

“I’m glad”, you said softly

“But not only that… they will not only bring their oaths, they will bring their problems, I fear I must warn you, they will make demands of you, the entire continent was devastated by a civil war, every town, city and holdfast”. You heard him intently and nodded

“Yes, thank you, my lord Stark”, you offered a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and he sighed barely loudly

Should he be scared of you?

He felt like he was very close to a wild animal, he would never know how or when you were going to react. He was waiting for the perfect moment for you to snap and turn on someone or something

He really hoped you wouldn't

But somehow… he hoped you would

He wanted to see the fire in you, he had to stoke it, because fire was better than nothing, fire was better than the remains…

You were sitting the most dangerous seat on the realm, he needed you to be dangerous, if only a little bit, he needed to see the fight in you, a passion of some sorts

That night he found you in the library, to his great surprise, you were reading tomes about Jaehaerys and Aegon the Conqueror’s rule

You were tired, but didn’t want to relent the story about how The Good Queen Alyssane prohibited the Prima Nocta and with which laws

The Lord Hand my Queen, introduced your Queen’s Guard, you smiled at the man as you closed the huge and dusty book

“My Lord Hand”, you greeted

“My Queen”, he said, “may I”, he said painting to the chair, you nodded

He sat slowly in front of you, he got rid of his cape, instead wearing a leather best instead

“What are you reading? if I may ask?”, he said softly

“Just somethings about the laws that were created by the Good Queen Alysanne”, you said dismissively, “you needed to speak to me, my lord”

“It’s time, imperative and time sensitive that we name the new small council, we cannot rule without one”, he said, you barely nodded, “we will need, A master of coins, a master of laws, a master of ships, a Grand Maester, and… a Master of whispers if you choose to have one, and of course, a Hand and the Lord commander of your Queensguard”, he listed

“We have you”, you said with a smile, and Cregan barely nodded, this was not the time to inform you he wanted to return to the North… he will give you more time, “And Lord Arryk”, you muttered, “we have mAESTER gERARDYS”

“You wish to name him Great maester?”, he asked, you nodded, “very well”

“I don't trust anyone else”, you whispered

“What do you mean?”, he asked, concerned

“Maesters come from the Citadel… of Oldtown… of the Hightowers”, you whispered, Cregan nodded

“Yes, I understand your concerns”, he said softly, “how about Lord Corlys?”, he said then

“He is old, and betrayed my mother”, you said quickly, “his time has passed”, Cregan nodded

“I’m not sure if antagonizing House Velaryon is a good idea”, he said gently

“We pardoned him, and let him keep his properties”, you muttered, “he will have to be contented with that and his granddaughters”, you muttered

“Very well”, he said

“No Velaryons, no Hightowers”, you said firmly

“Tyland Lannister”, he said

“Master of Coin”, you said with a nod, “he might be a Lannister but he served King Viserys and…. Aegon… loyaly, we need the Lannisters”, you admitted, he nodded

“Great”

“After the war, who do you think has the greatest armada of the Seven Kingdoms?”, you asked

“It has to be the Redwyne’s”, he said firmly

“Are they summoned to court?”

“Yes my Queen”

“Good”, Cregan smiled as you never stopped to surprise him

“They pledge for Aegon, but I’m sure under the right circumstances, they will bend the knee to you”

“Then we will make sure, that the Tarlys present themselves first”, you said, “the Lords of the Reach, and make sure we serve their wine at the festivities”, Cregan nodded

“So, we have a grand maester, a Lord Commander, a Master of coins and luckily a master of ships…”, he listed

“We need a maester of Laws”, you said softly, “a strong, joust man…or woman”, you corrected, “someone who draws respect…someone who knows the real world, who has traveled and seen to the furthest corners of the Realm”

“You are describing Lord Corlys”, he said, concerned

“There has to be someone else”, you whined

“I might know someone”, muttered Cregan, “He served the blacks”

“Good”, you muttered with shy smile

“He is at court, he was summoned when I called for the remainder of your mother’s small council”. Yes, introducing you to important Lords and Ladies of the realm, he needed to ease you into politics, who to trust and who don’t

Making you Queen was not only for revenge, not because it was the right thing to do…

Were you actually good for this? where you meant for the throne?

“Even if we don’t need a master of whispers, I think we should have one”, he said softly

“Who that might be?”, you asked back

“I will look into it”, he was also going to look into who was going to replace him as hand when his inevitable return to the North comes to be, but he didn’t want to say that yet…

He needed you stable, and surrounded by people you trust first

“You should have some sleep my Queen we all need it”, he said gently, you nodded, and raised from your sit, “I’ll walk you to your rooms”

He had the rooms of the king ready for you, and it was a curious thing to sleep there, but you did, it had been two years since your grandfather, and your mother didn’t use the rooms, so… it wasn’t that odd.

They replaced the upholsterers, tapestries and paint, and it looked beautiful, filled with flowers and soft colors, you liked it, it was spacious

Cregan stopped at the doors

“Thank you, my lord Stark”, you didn’t know why, but you always felt relaxed and safe next to him, but now, you felt nervous

“You are most welcome my Queen”, he said softly, “tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to your prospect of Master of Laws”, he said softly, “we were made brothers at arms at a time in White Harbor when I was very young”, he said softly

“Good”, you said said with a soft smile, “If he is a friend of you, he is a friend of the crown”

“you are speaking like a true Queen”, he said with a relieved smile

“Good night, my lord hand”

“Good night my queen”. he said firmly, and you closed the door gently, as a guard was posted at your door

The Very next day, the sweet maids dressed you in one of your mother’s dresses, of when she was young, a reed dress with details of gold and a white collar that made you look truly regal, they fixed your hair and applied a soft powder in your face to even the colors on your skin

They even placed rings in your fingers and a necklace in your neck

Cregan thought a private introduction was better for you, so he ask you break your fast in the gardens, it was getting chilly, but the morning were still beautiful

As you already had some buttered bread and fruits, Cregan nodded to the man beside them, both appearing in the garden.

You were a bit startled when Arryk announced them, but smiled as you saw both men approaching

Of course you recognized Cregan, but the man besides him? Gods

He had a… singular… appearance, he was of a dirty blond hair, unruly beard decorated by silver beads, his hair was long thought trimmed in the sides letting you see the skin of his head, the hair that remained, in the center and top of his head was braided backwards by a long braid, he had tattoos in the sides of his skull, he was dressed in blue leather, and furs, high boots.

He was… peculiar

“My Queen”, said Lord Stark, “may I introduce to you, Lord Reysen Celtigar”, he said, “Son or Bartimos Celtigar, your mother’s master of coins”

“Celtigar?”, you called, impressed

“My beautiful Queen”, he said, dropping to the floor in front of you, “You must not remember me, you were young, but in the years you lived in Dragonstone I visited a few times with my grandsire and father”, he said quickly, “I was, being the second son, send to travel the world, I was not here for the war, sadly…”

“Your house loyalty to mine is clear, my lord”, you said softly, “you should you join me for breakfast”

“You are too kind”, both men sat in front of you

“Lord Celtigar here has traveled far and wide, all over the Seven kingdoms, and even Essos and beyond”, said Cregan softly

“Really?”, you asked

“I shall tell you everything you’d like to know, my sweet Queen”

And Cregan Stark and Reysen Celtigar distracted you from the shadows lurking on the corners of your eyes.

Cregan saw how Reysen shamesly would court you in front of him, how your smile lit up the garden and how you’d giggle like the young women you actually were, this was going to be good for you, have men that are blindly loyal to you, rather by loyalty, or pure desire and love, but loyal in the end.

And that is how the Celtigar was named Master of Laws, he was young, yes, but he had seen things many haven’t yet, he was of Cregan’s age, and his elder brother was the Lord of Claw Island, fiercely loyal to you and your cause.

With a small council made up, people named, only Lord Redwyne was missing.

The Hightowers you hated… wholeheartedly, but you needed to rally the other most important houses of the reach, with the Redwyne and the Tarlys that was possible, assured also

In the coming days and weeks, the castle was brought back to life and filled with people oof all noble houses, the entire city was receiving thousands of lords, ladies and their people

And audiences needed to begin, people were going to swear their allegiance all over the week, they were going to make pleas and requests, and at the end, they were going to watch you being crowned, the location was yet to be disclosed, and Cregan feared you had to make this happen in Harrenhal, were it could held a host this big, but it was too late.

You were going to be crowned at the Throne room

And Cregan could see that your heart was not truly invested, but… today he had the maids dress you and fix your hair in a magnificent way, dressed in black and red and gold, your hair mostly let loose, decorated with golden treads, and a crown made by your own hair half of it braided in magnificent braids

Not a Queen, but you looked like an empress

the epitome of royal power

And the entire seven Kingdoms was going to see you like this.

He escorted you, alongside your small council, and sat you on the Iron Throne, in front of the room filled with expectant lords and ladies

“This day, we receive you most lustrous Lords and Ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms”, presented Cregan, “for you to swear your allegiance to the new Queen and bring an end to the conflict that devastated our lands for two years”, he said out loud, “you stand in the presence of (Y/N) of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm”

“All hail the Queen!”, chanted Arryk, and the room came alive with their chants

“Hail the Queen!”, it made you shake, grabbing tightly onto the throne

Your grandfather was right, this thing was truly uncomfortable

“The audiences will begin”, presented Cregan Stark

“Allow me, to be the first!”, Cregan and Reysen shared concerned looks when the first one to step forwards, was, indicated by the embroidery on his clothes, a hightower.

Your stomach dropped, you suddenly wanted to throw up

“Lyonel Hightower, my Queen”, you raised an eyebrow, not impressed with this pompous individual

“Of course”, you looked at Cregan, annoyed, who had decided to invite this clown into court

“This Kingdom had seen enough war”, he said easily, “let’s stop this animosity, let’s bend broken bonds”

“How do you suggest we do that?”, you asked

“Through a marriage pact”, he said and you chuckled darkly, “let’s join our houses, my Queen”

“Yes, because that really helped my grandfather, did it not?”, you said with poison in your tongue, “worked so good the last time”, but this clown was clearly not reading the room. The throne room was deadly quiet, but he just kept talking

“I will bring this Kingdom back to glory, with all the power of Oldtown”, he just kept talking, “when I marry you, most gracious Queen, we will have the prowess to…”, he kept going on and on, and you only wanted to throw up, that is until…

You saw her

Right then, hidden amongst other lords and ladies

Her hair was now tainted with gray, his face cut by age and stress, but she was there… dressed in light blue

Alicent hightower

When she met your eyes you saw her flinch, because they reflected what you felt about her…. utter and pure hate.

“...My aunt”, that is when your attention was returned, “the most gracious Dowager Queen is to be placed back in the citadel…”

“The only place she should be placed is deep in the black cells”, you barely whispered, but that sound alone made the entire court, even the pompous bastard, shut up

“My Queen…”, muttered Alicent, taking a step forwards, and everyone remained quiet

“What do you want?”, you asked, visibly shaking with rage

“I’m here to beseech you, to ask you to give me permission to be sent to Old Town…”

“Why?”, you cut her, “so you can plot on how to take the crown from my family again?”

“No…”, she said, shaking a smile, “I only wish to live the remains of my life in peace”, you scoffed

“My Queen, when we marry, our family…”

“I’d rather die alone than marry a HIghtower”, you said loudly, and you heard gasps and snickers alike, “you don’t understand what is going on, so let me enlighten you, you will surrender your entire treasury to the crown”, you said firmly, and the room was silent again as the color dropped from Lyonel’s face, “ten million golden dragons?”, you said

“But my Queen”

“The hightowers are enemies of the crown as it stands right now”, you said, “and the price to be considered members of the Kingdoms again is that one”

“But…”

“You have two children, they will be my cupbearers, squires of court, here, in the Red Keep”, you muttered, and he nodded rapidly, “fail to meet my expectation, fail to jump when I say so, and I’ll make sure that I truly bring back this kingdoms to the glory they deserve because I will burn your High Tower and the Citadel to the ground, the last dragon is mine to command, remember that, a dragon is worth more than gold, and more than a thousand armies…”, the man shakily dropped to the ground on one knee

“Yes my Queen”

“… and you…”, you turned your rage to Alicent now

Cregan watched you from the corner of his eye, fearing the worst, he had advice you to leave her be, chained, but alive, but he was not going to refute you now, in front of the entire court, if you commanded your guard to slay the old Queen, the order had to be carried out, there was no other choice

You only grabbed onto the throne tightly, trying to reign in your emotions,

“How dare you?”, you asked finally, the eyes of the old Queen snapped open, “I wanted to have you burn with the rest of the traitors, because you were the true orchestrator of the death of my entire family”, you accused, “YOU!”, you said, standing up, “you usurped my mother and threw the entire Kingdom into chaos, but I, decided to spare you, because of my hand’s advice, to ignore you, let you live the rest of your withered life in peace, yet you have the audacity of coming here and demand things of me”, you said fiercely

“No… I didn’t demand I… It wasn’t me!”, she ran over her own words, nervous

“Lord Hightower”, you called, now turning your attention to the old shivering men in front of you, “thanks to the audacity of your aunt, you will pay for her, five hundred thousand gold dragons, or else”, he opened his eyes widely, but lowered his head

“Yes my queen”

“And you, Alicent, it’s clear that we have been very indulgent, you are from now on forbidden to receive any visitors, and you better spend the rest of your miserable life avoiding me, or else I’ll have your head, because I’m sick of looking at it, I see it every night in my worst and darkest nightmares already”

“Y-your grace”, she trembled

“And everytime you see Lord Stark, you better fall to your knees and kiss the floor where he is about to walk, it is because of him you still draw breath, instead of my parents, my brothers, and your children”, you said with disdain

That is what it took for her to break in sobs, one hand trying to drown them, and the other clutching her chest

With only one look and gesture of hand of Lord Stark, two of your three Queensguards grabbed Alicent gently and removed her from the throne room

You took a long breath as Lyonel and all traces of the color green disappeared from the room. ou closed your eyes for a second, took one, two, three long breaths, and you opened them again, you saw your smile council, Cregan nodded at you, giving you his approval

“So, who is next?”, you asked out loud, and the entire court seemed to take a step back. Except from one, old Lord, who stepped forwards, helped by a cane and the help of a royal guard

“Lord Bewford, of House Blount your grace”, the man introduced himself and you smiled softly, nodding at him and signaling to him to present his troubles, “I gave 500 hundred men to the cause of the righteous Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, is not much, but in that army where my two sons, they are both gone now”, he murmured, “Winter is coming, I need strong young men to help in the fields and around my household”, he said shakily. You nodded

“I will never forget what you sacrifice for our cause, good Lord”, you said, “I will cut off taxes for the coming season, and furthermore…”, the maester gave you a piece of paper, “I have news of the local orphanage, where girls and boys are in need of roof and food, I bet that with willingness, they can help you in exchange for a home”, you said softly, and the old man’s face lit up

“Thank you, your grace!”, he said, trying to kneel

Cregan smiled widely, and the rest of the Lords and Ladies took that step forwards raising their hands wanting to be greeted by you.

It was going to be a long day

But you held your ground with patience and grace, that Cregan thought you must have inherited from your grandparents.

Your rage dwindled as your tiredness grew, but the court did not witness more outbursts, your distaste and even hate for the Hightowers and exclusively to them, make the rest of the royal houses relax and bend the knee more easily, picking sides between the Targaryen Queen and the most hated house in the Kingdoms.

Cregan thought you were going to be met with more resistance, but he was surprised to see the ease with which the Lords and Ladies of the house directed themselves at you. He was amazed by how many marriage proposals you received, to which you made deaf ears to, but they were still there. He had a young page to write down the names, for him to study for future prospects.

And when you offered Lord Redwyne to be your master of ships and he agreed with a laugh in front of the entire court, that sealed the day.

The Keep was boasting with life, just as he wanted it to be, now that he didn’t met with incredible support of the houses, he had to separate the true loyal, with the ass licking ones.

He stopped the audiences at four hours after noon, to give you rest, and there were more things he needed to do.

He had to speak to you about which houses you would like to invite to spend the season at court, to make your court.

He was met in the hallways by Arryk

“Have you done it?”, he asked, “have you looked for potential brothers at arms?”

“Oh yeah, my Lord, but we have a small, or rather… a large problem…”

“What now?”, they both reached the second story balcony to the courtyard, and Cregan stopped in his tracks when he looked down and the courtyard was filled to the last inch with hundreds of men from all ages and sizes, soldiers, knights

“They all want to do the trials to belong to the new Queensguard”, said Arryk with a wide smile, and Cregan laughed

Of course everyone wanted to serve the young new Queen

“Alright, let’s start by sorting them by Kingdom, and if they have real battle experience”, Cregan commanded, with a smile, “have some fun”

“Yes my Lord”, said Arryk, almost laughing

But then, your new appointed small council called to Cregan Stark to an important meeting

When Cregan entered the small council room he felt the uneasiness, the nervousness of all the important men gathered there, and as he walked to the head of the table, all looks were on him

“Gentlemen”, he greeted, if there was something wrong, he wish they would tell him, “Please, let’s not waste any more time, tell me why we are here, why we are meeting without our Queen”, he said hastily, gods, he hated politics

“My Lord Hand”

“Why are we meeting without the Queen?”, he asked severely

“She is our Queen, yes, but she is young, and clearly unstable. The Hightowers decided to take it, yes, but what when they don’t?”, muttered Lord Redwyne

“So…?”, he asked, “she is right, they are a haunted house, that brought down the House of the Dragon with their schemes, and their ambition”, he said angrily

“Lord Hightower has a point, the Queen will need a husband, we need security of the Line, and also… someone who will… help her…”, muttered Tyland

“Well, I came up with a list, and we present it to her…”, muttered Cregan

“It has to be you Lord Stark”, said the maester, that did took him by surprise

“No…”, he said

“You signed an alliance”, remembered Lord Lannister

“When I signed it, the Queen was still alive, Young Jacaerys, the heir to the Iron Throne was still alive…”, he said gently, “I was supposed to be married to a princess with five brothers, who was supposed to become the Lady of Winterfell, I was not supposed to become King consort of the Seven Kingdoms”, he said severely

“It has to be you, Lord Stark!”, said Redwyne again

“How about you?”, he asked, looking at his friend, Celtigar, who had remained quiet, “I have a five year old son!”, he said, “alone in Winterfell, with no mother to care for him, I have to go back to him, I can’t abandon him”

“You can come and go as you please, your wife will have a dragon!”, said the Maester

“it can’t be me”, he repeated

“You are the most loyal and trusting, the one everyone will trust as a King consort”, fought Tyland

This is not what he wanted

He had come here because he had promised the Queen, because he wanted to bring justice, and even perhaps vengeance to the realm

But he had signed the pact of ice and fire…

“The North remembers my Lord, your name, is in that treaty”, said the maester, “I saw you sign it”

This is not what he sign up for

I see you very quiet my Lord Celtigar...

Ok so... this was another chapter of them being... accustomed to their roles... next one we will see more of reader's and Cregan's relationship and we will be more personal... we will also see Aegon again, poor thing... again... sorry for the delay

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#misguidedhour #cregan stark x oc #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen

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atrwriting · 3 months

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chapter sixteen: control -- aemond x highborn!reader

i have been re-inspired. hehe

what does everyone think of the new season??

share ur thoughts and lets rant together

and let's celebrate with a new installment for this fic ;) happy reading everyone -- thanks for sticking with this story after so long :)

barely edited yuh

as always, warnings: no smut, misogyny, pregnant reader, weapons

chapter sixteen...

"are you..." you began, swallowing, closing and unclosing your fists by your side. "...are you angry with me, aemond?"

he did not answer you. he sat by the fire, staring into the flames, and unfazed by your words. you had only seen him like this a few times, but this was the first time you had ever believed it could be because of your actions.

in your head, you knew there was cause for his anger if it was directed at you. you were a woman, a princess by marriage, during a time of war because, and, as they believed, a woman who did not know her place. you could've scoffed, thrown a remark — but where would that get you? you had done the exact thing they were afraid of — acted like their greatest enemy.

obviously these men were wrought with sexism, and you knew it was wrong. you didn't want to marry into the family because of it, but somehow you had found where you comfortably fit and could chew and swallow the bits you did not care for. down, down, down they went — buried deep, and you hoped they would never unearth themselves. unfortunately, here they were: not letting you or the babe rest. you expected this from the king, his mother, his grandfather, and everyone else...

but aemond? not aemond. not him, your husband — your sweet, sweet husband of all people.

and still, he did not answer. you chewed on your bottom lip as you gaze flickered between the back of his head and the flames. the night's events had turned sour because of your bold actions, and you knew you shouldn't make it a habit... but here you were, in the safety and privacy of your own with your husband.

one more time wouldn't hurt... you hoped.

hope had gotten you this far...

you glided over towards your husband and where he sat, and sank to your knees. you placed one palm over each of his knees as you peered up at him. his jaw was set and tightened as he glanced down his nose at you. there was not an ounce of warmth in his gaze, but you could not return that emotion. your head was dipped, almost bowed, as you stared up at your husband with your large dark eyes.

"please," you pled, voice cracking. "please talk to me."

"you did enough talking back there for both of us, princess," he spat. "it would not please you to do it again?"

your eyebrows scrunched at his words. "he insinuated i was dirty, and in turn the babe in my belly. your son. our son."

"i know what he said," he spat. "he was arrested for it."

"then make me understand, husband, please..." you asked softly. "i can't — i can't stand the thought of you upset with me."

"you were not thinking about that then, why should i grant you the care you ask for now?" he spat once more.

you stood at that, fists bawled at your side. "because i came back for you, aemond. if this baby died — we could have another, but i can't have another you."

he scoffed, standing also and glaring down at you. "and yet we just might have another rhaenyra in this camp."

"how dare you!" you hissed. "I am nothing like her! — she tried to pawn me off to her son — as if I were cattle! as if i don't have your babe in my belly!"

he stepped closer to you, fire brewing in his eyes. "yes, her son — the sweet, kind, and honorable jacaerys velaryon who you would've rode off into the sunset with once my brother and i, and our line, were crisp from his dragon's fire. the bastard boy who tormented me when we were younger, and stood by and watched as his brother took my eye! am i to believe you weren't even slightly tempted by their offer?"

your face fell at his words and your lip trembled. "i did not come back for the man who is acting like the spitting image of his grandsire. I thought you would be impressed that i had sacrificed as much as I did — practically falling from a tower, running from that menace daemon, and stealing a dragon — but i see now that you and your family do not hate rhaenyra; you hate all women that show that they have as strong of stones as a man does. the man i love, the man i risked death for, then man who was impressed with my knife skills, would not hurl these insults at me — not when I was gone for so long, presumed dead. i came back for my aemond, the father of my child, the father i want the son in my belly to look up to, to cherish, to honor — but you are not him."

aemond did not respond. he titled his head upwards, and glared down his nose at you. you felt small, and full of shame. you didn't understand why — you had no reason to, but you couldn't help it. you felt as dirty as the lord hand had insinuated you were.

unclean. impure. rotten.

fucking soiled.

you swallowed, casting your gaze towards the ground. "i was taken against my will, but the man i loved left by choice. i sacrificed everything to come back, but your pride will not allow you to do the same."

you left the tent, and he did not follow.

the leaves crunched underneath your feet as you stalked away from your tent — well, your husband's tent. your womanhood prevented you from having anything being yours, even shared. you scoffed openly then, as tears threatened to leak from your weary and tired eyes. your gaze hung low, like your head — coupled in shame, guilt, regret, anger... they all welled, swirled, and filled the space inside you until it was hard to swallow.

you scoffed at the thought. you may have loved aemond, but you knew a conversation like that would not be happening at dragonstone. peace, love, and happiness there for young lovers — but not here. you didn't know if you regretted your decision.

you did know that if you stayed a moment longer in that castle — daemon targaryen would've given you another reason to want to leave. you shook off feelings of regret — fake equality was worse than sexism in some ways.

and that's how you found yourself in the training yard of the camp. you immediately picked up daggers, eyeing the fighting dummy. a few slashes here and there — that was enough for you to lose yourself in the groove.

there was no sexism in the night, when all the men slept.

you scoffed at the thought, swiping at your faux opponent.

"you could gut him with that blade," a voice in the distance spoke.

you whipped around to face the owner of the voice. ser cole, who stood a few yards away. you straightened at the sight of him, acknowledging his presence. you clenched your jaw before turning back around to the dummy. you heard his footsteps approach.

"there are two men that come to mind," you mumbled.

"careful, princess." while an honest warning, you heard the smile in his voice.

you turned to face him, jaw clenching. "i regret... my outburst, but i do not regret my words."

"it is not for me to have an opinion on the words of a princess," he responded.

you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "you're probably the only person who's opinion i wouldn't despise, even if it differed from my own, ser cole."

his jaw clenched then, gaze averting to the ground and then back to your face. "would you like to hear my opinion from a year ago on whether women should wield knives, princess?"

you chuckled. "please, ser cole."

"I would have found it improper," he replied, evenly.

you sighed and nodded your head. "and now?"

"necessary."

you laughed sadly at that. "thank you, ser cole... i find myself in almost in better spirits."

you began to turn back around before he spoke once more.

"the prince did not fair well in your absence, princess," he gushed. "the lord hand... considered him... distracted."

you cast your gaze to the floor as realization hit you. "so the hand blamed me... even upon my return."

ser cole's silence was enough of an answer for you.

"the things we do for love," you scoffed, shaking your head. your knives fell from your hands and hit the ground with a thud as tears began to prick at your eyes. "you are lucky that aches of the heart will not torment you into fighting a dummy in the dead of the night like my pathetic self."

"i am a stranger to love now, princess... but there was a time when it plagued me as well."

you glanced up at him then, offering him a small, sad smile. "my apologies... i did not know."

he shook his head, gripping the handle of his sword in his belt. "you didn't, but she did. she knew what she wanted, and it wasn't what i could offer her."

you stared at him, an open book for him to write his secrets on. you never considered him a confidant, but you were desperate for the approval of any man in power at the camp to think you were better than you felt — to wash away the stained words of the lord and your lord husband. you weren't dirty. you weren't soiled. you weren't impure, unworthy, or ruined. you were a woman — a wife and a mother, filled with love and rage and everything that came with it. you demanded respect, fought tooth and nail for it — but ser cole gave it willingly. you were grateful, almost too eager for the washing away of otto hightowers words that felt like sins. so you nodded, signaling for ser cole to continue.

"my offer wasn't enough for her." sadness caused ser cole to glance off into the distance and fold his lips underneath each other. his past appeared to torment him behind his eyes, and you wanted to comfort him, as you would with anyone... but you didn't know how. he was not your husband... barely a friend. fortunately, he continued, "but that is not the case here. it is not easy to be a woman in your position... and still you choose it, over everything."

tears welled in your eyes at his words. with each word, ser cole seemed to be as surprised that he was saying this to you as he was surprised to believe it. he continued, "no matter how difficult the challenge is, your loyalty does not waver. you are true to the prince, even now."

your eyes burned with anguish and sadness, but you swallowed it at the kindness ser cole had showed you. "t-thank you, ser cole. i don't think any words of mine can express how much i appreciate you saying that."

he gave you a curt nod then. "you should know, princess... i wouldn't mind hearing your opinions, even if we differed, because i doubt we would disagree."

you wiped at your tears and laughed. you smiled sadly at him, when you spotted a head of white walking towards you and the knight. your eyes darted past the knight, and you straightened. ser cole read your body language, and followed in suit.

"my prince," ser cole greeted, assuming the position.

aemond stood next to the knight, but kept his attention on you. "thank you for ensuring my wife's safety, ser cole. please — leave us."

the knight bowed his head before sending you a quick, knowing look. you looked on his leave with sadness before your eyes barely glossed over your husband's form. you turned back towards the dummy.

"you ignore your husband after he goes looking for you?" he asks, walking toward you.

you scoffed. "please go to bed, husband. your days are long with war approaching."

he stopped a foot away from you. "with the baby's arrival approaching, you should be in bed as well."

you shook your head, ignoring him. how dare he, after everything he said? when you did not respond, he stepped closer to you. any closer, and he would be getting the way of you and your knives.

"he survived on the back of a dragon," you spat, keeping your gaze on the dummy. "you insult him with your words."

"as stubborn as his mother, he is, then," he replied. "and that's why you should rest."

you whipped around to face him then. his words hit you, but you did not absorb them. you couldn't believe them, nor trust him.

the hardness had left your husband's expression then. anger had left him like you had those weeks or months ago — you couldn't keep track. his lips parted, whereas they were pressed into a thin line when he was focused and angry. his glare was no longer hardened, as his stare was not a glare at all. there was not warmth in his eye, no... but there was chill. you thought back to cole's words, about aemond not fairing well without you — and realized that the lack of warmth in aemond's eyes was that he felt cold, especially without you.

"i will when you tell me what i asked to hear," you compromised.

he clenched his jaw, and did not answer for a few moments. when you eyed him, he sighed and averted his eyes from yours. tossing and turning with the words in his head, he finally returned his gaze to you. "you were right... about my pride. i was angry with you because you said what i never felt like i could."

you swallowed his words after they hit you. it was bittersweet; the triumph of being right, but also how damning being right could be.

the bitterness overpowered any sugar. it swirled within you like a sour herb, not quite ripe yet. you sucked in your cheeks slightly at the faux taste and mulled over your words.

"I am not the type of woman that gains satisfaction from proving her husband wrong," you spat. "i just wanted you be... proud of me, and least of all happy to see me."

he immediately reached to grab your face then, and you dropped your knives. the prince pressed his cold hands to your blushed cheeks, and you sucked in a sharp breath. his eye was cold, focused, and almost angry. for the second time that evening, the prince was angry because of your words.

"i almost burned the entirety of the seven kingdoms to the ground in your absence!" he spat, hands shaking with angst. "and then, somehow, though impossible — you descend into camp on the back of a dragon! my wife, my sweet, wife — saving our son, my person, and my — our line, in the process. i would've killed every last man, woman, child just to see you again! how dare —"

you didn't let him finish. you pushed yourself to your toes, and kissed him. almond's hands gripped your waist, pulling you towards him as you pressed your hands to both of his cheeks. your tongues tangled with each other as you lost yourself in him and his embrace.

"words would not be able to convey how much I missed you, husband," you weeped. "you were the only thing that got me through my days there. every time i feared falling from the rope — all i could think about was you. i needed to get back to you, and only you."

he kissed you then, smiling. "as it was made apparent, my heartache proved to be as much of a liability to my grandsire. you and i — we are stronger together."

you sobbed at his words, going to press your lips to his once more. he gave you a small peck before he pulled away, much to your dismay.

"that is why i have decided to allow you to train and fight," he spoke. "we will be by each other's sides. as warriors."

your heart welled with happiness and satisfaction, but you couldn't help but ask, "do you not fear for the baby?"

"i do, but his mother has shown that she can protect him better than anyone." aemond began to cry then, and you went to wipe away his tears. "attempting to place you in a box was wrong. i thought that if you were close enough, i could save you if something happened, but when i sent you away... that was when i lost you. i trusted others to take care of my wife, to place her far from battle, when i should've kept her by my side. i will not make that mistake again. i want you by my side, my love. we are stronger together.”

“together,” you repeated, tears filling your eyes. you stared up at your husband in awe, unable to fight the smile that spread across your face. “together — through fire and blood.”

"through fire and blood."

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gxthicwxrm · 2 years

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Let Them Know We Are Coming- Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Warnings: blood, angst, violence, murder, attempted murder, mentions of child loss and death

Summary: The reader has to fight for her and her son when revenge for Storm's End comes busting down her door.

Word Count: 1,787

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

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"There you go, my little fighter. Close your tired eyes." You coo, holding your bundled son, Eli, as he falls asleep. Gliding toward his crib, you stroke back his silver hair and smooth out his furrowed brows. A content smile forms on his face before you kiss his forehead and lay him on his bed.

Lingering, you watched your son rest peacefully, but flashes of Lucerys, Rhaenyra's second son that Vhagar killed, taint your thoughts. The pain Rhaenyra must've felt seemed unbearable to you. Unable to think about it any longer, you attempt to distract yourself by examining your and Aemond's shared bookcase, canvassing for a novel. Since having Eli, you've been unable to find time to read again, always caring for the babe, and you thought this was the perfect opportunity to start again.

After some time of looking and flipping through an assortment of books, you found one that piqued your interest and found a spot to read in a plush velvety chair before curling under a throw blanket.

Quickly, you find yourself consuming page after page, and before you know it, hours have passed, and the sun has set. Looking around, you stretch against the back of the chair and check on Eli before moving to put your book on your bedside table. Readying yourself for bed, you search through the wardrobe and lay out the ones you choose before stripping from your gown and pulling on the sheer sleeping dress you love. The cold fabric sends a shiver down your back as you hear the door to your chambers open. Assuming Aemond has come home from his meeting with Aegon, you continue to dress with your back facing him, waiting to feel his arms wrap around your waist with the sweet smell of embers and leather, but you aren't met with his warm embrace.

Suddenly, the air feels dangerous as you turn to face your guest. Your lungs grow tight when you see two men you've never seen before blocking your doorway. Your first thought was your son; he was asleep still in his bassinet behind the two men.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? The King will hear about this intrusion if you do not leave. I am warning you kindly." You attempt to make these men retreat from whatever they came here to do, but they don't budge.

Taking a step toward you, one of the men shuts off the door while the other reaches for you causing you to flinch away from his filthy hand.

"We are just here for the boy. A son for a son, that's all. No need to hurt anyone else. Just to pay the debt." The man's gravelly voice pierces your heart as he shares an evil smile. His words bring light to

"The King will not stand for this! Aegon will have your hands for trying to hurt his nephew if my husband and I don't first." You shout through your teeth; anger radiates from you as you start tipping back toward Aemond's nightstand. The glint of his blade shines from the light bleeding into the window. With your eyes on the man before you, you grab the metal, then wave it in front of you.

"There's no need for that. We just want the child. Grab him." The plump man says to the lankier one, causing the latter to move towards the crib. Instantly, you lunge toward the more petite man, taking him by surprise as you slice at his extended arm, causing him to pull back from the wooden bed.

"You won't touch him." You snarl at him with teeth barred as you let your blade reach for them with every movement they make towards you and the crib as you look towards the locked door, hoping for someone to hear your screams.

Unfortunately, the noise only alerted your son, who woke with a hungry cry, startling you and your intruders. His scream made you instantly turn to him, making sure he was okay, when you felt hands grab your arms, pulling you from your child.

"No! Get off of me! I will kill you! I will kill you for this! Get your hands off of me! Aemond! Help! Someone! HELP US!" You thrash in the skinnier man's arms and feel his grip on your struggle. Using that to your advantage, you wiggle around before throwing your head backward, cracking the man in his nose.

Letting you go, he walks backward, hands flying to his nose that's gushing blood down his shirt. Looking down at his bloody hands, his face twists before he looks up and glares at you.

"This wasn't personal, but you made it that way." The man says before trying to grab you. Pulling back, you realize you still have the dagger in your hand. Before you had time to realize what had happened, you heard a yelp and liquid dripping on your hand. Looking down, you saw your hand on the blade and the metal in the man before you. A gasp left your throat as you looked at the pain in the man's eyes. You've never killed someone before, never raised a blade to anyone. But, you would care for your child.

"Cheese!" You hear the other man yell before running towards his partner, who stumbles into his arms. Cheese slumps to the ground, holding his wound while the other man looks up at you.

"Blood, finish it." Cheese mumbles, blood coating his bottom lip as he coughs. Silently, Blood stands to his feet before pulling out his knife.

"I will have that boy's life. If that means collecting yours first, I am sure they'd be fine with that." He declares. Twisting your blade, you ready yourself for his attack. 'There will be a song about the day I died protecting my children.' You joked coldly to yourself.

Blood moves towards the crib, making you tackle his side, throwing him into the dresser adjacent to your child whose wails echo around the room, melding in with your own as Blood's fist collides with your face. A crack follows a rush of pain that comes from your nose. Despite the pain, you reach out and slash his side twice, waving the more miniature sword in front of you.

"Oh, you bitch!" He screams as his dagger reaches for your abdomen, slicing the flesh under your robe as you jump back. You feel a trickle of wetness dance down your side but fight against the pain to jab Aemond's knife into the man's chest before pulling back. The intruder holds his chest, blood seeping past his thick fingers as he stumbles against the dresser.

Slumping against the wood, the color drains from the man as his partner has already grown cold. Heart still pounding in your chest, you go to your child, grabbing him with blood-drenched hands. Holding him, you lean against the wall and slowly allow yourself to fall down the stones, exhausted, softly cooing to your no longer crying child.

Suddenly, the doors swing open, and you are ready, blade extended, curled around your infant, prepared to kill the first man to walk in, but stop short when silver hair comes into view.

Aemond pushes through the doorway but stops quickly when he sees the state of you and the room. His eye finds the two men lying on the floor, one still breathing. Grabbing the live man's head, Aemond makes the man face him.

"Who sent you? Tell me before I take your life!" Aemond's hands grip the man's throat as the man grins.

"The Queen. A son for a son." At his words, Aemond grabs his knife from his waistband and slices the man's throat before stabbing the man known as Cheese in the eye. Turning towards you and Eli, his features soften as he dashes to your spot on the floor. His eye examines you, seeing your bruises, the gash on your arm, and blood smearing across your skin.

"Are you okay? How is Eli?" Aemond reaches for you and your son as you open your arms for him. Breathing in his scent, tears fall down your face as you smell the man you thought would have to find you and your son, the man you loved more than life.

"We're okay. It's okay." You held strong before Aegon and the guards, unable to let the fear go, still ready to fight if needed, but these men were no threat to you. You were their family as much as you were Aemond's.

"Dear sister, they will pay with their lives for this attempt. You have my word." Aegon speaks as his hands hold your shoulders. His words are solid and firm, anger creeping into his tone. With a kiss on your cheek and a nod to Aemond, Aegon goes to leave.

"Have their heads sent back to Dragonstone. Let them know we are coming for them." Aemond demands that Aegon turn to his younger brother considering the choice before nodding. Once the room is empty except for the three of you, you let your tears fall down your face as you lean into Aemond's chest. His arms wrap around you while he kisses the top of your head.

"I am so sorry I was not here to stop this." His voice breaks as he looks around the room before petting Eli's head. A spot of dried blood in his blood hair stops Aemond. He has to remind himself not of his son's blood but a reminder of what Aemond's son had to endure while his mother almost died.

"Aemond, all that matters is you're here now." You reassure him, stroking down his hair before leaning your forehead to his, closing your eyes." I love you, Aemond Targaryen." You pressed a kiss to his lips before he could reply. His hand cupped your face as you pulled away. "I love you more than words express, my dear wife."

All you wanted was for your family to be whole again, and now it was, even if you still felt their skin on yours, their blade to your skin, the threat they posed to your child.

Rhaenyra wanted you to understand what it felt like to be without your child and feel that pain. In a small way, you did, and it made you hurt for her and understand to a level the loss, pain, and helplessness she felt when your husband's dragon killed her baby. But, when you look at your family and feel the rage that drove you to kill these men to protect what was yours, all you can think is she will burn for what she tried today.

---

Thank you for your time and for reading my work! I hope you enjoyed it!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen x you

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crimxonwrites · 1 month

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Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 6 ❝A small victory❞

☽➛ Summary: Nothing satietes Maehrys Velaryon's hunger as well as revenge. Growing up at the Red Keep as the bastard of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not come trouble-free. Her childhood consisted of bitter words and repulsive looks from nearly everybody in the castle. As she grew older, Maehrys grew meaner. Once the Velaryons return to King's Landing to defend Luke's claim as Lord of Driftmark, Maehrys decides that it is time for the people who hurt her in the past to pay.

☽➛ Warnings: swearing, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC ( enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

Masterlist

Chapter 7

The fire's cracking echoes in my head as I watch my mother break down. I have seen my mother cry before; she has suffered enough heartache. But this time is different. This time, I feel she shares my anger. My heart races, and tears start falling down my hot cheeks. Luke is dead. My innocent, dearest little brother is dead at the hands of my one-eyed uncle. I was a fool to think he would ever change, even now, after he has... reduced his cruelties toward me.

A crushing weight settles on my chest, squeezing the breath out of me. The pain is unbearable, a deep, gnawing ache that refuses to relent. Luke, my sweet Luke, with his bright eyes and infectious laughter, is gone. The memories flood my mind: his mischievous grin when he played pranks, the way he would cling to me when he was scared, his boundless energy and curiosity. How can the world continue to turn without him in it?

My uncle's face flashes in my mind, his single eye cold and unfeeling. The rage burns through my grief, a scorching fire that threatens to consume me. He took Luke from me, from us, and for that, I will never forgive him. But even my fury cannot mask the overwhelming sense of loss. Luke's absence is a gaping void, an abyss that swallows everything in its path.

I start running towards my chambers, my feet moving without thought. I must do something; I am tired of sitting and watching the Hightowers and my silver-haired uncles plot to destroy us. I cannot allow myself to grief.

"Princess, is everything—"

"Luke is dead, Alisha." I bend my knees in front of the scorching hot chest that holds my three dragon eggs. Thunder roars outside the palace’s windows, and I know a storm is coming. Suddenly, I am struck by panic. Arms shaking, I lift the chest and place the cloak over my head.

"Whatever do you think you are doing?" Alisha's voice rises, and I jump. I turn around, hands burning.

"I cannot bear to be purposeless to my mother..." I choke on my own tears. "To my family anymore." Suddenly, everything goes quiet, and a ringing sound makes my ears ache.

Before Alisha can speak again, I take the chest and sprint through the door. I dodge the knights and household folk with ease, as they are also distracted by my sweet brother’s death. The palace of Dragonstone is buzzing with panic, sorrow, and derangement, making it trouble-free for me to leave. I hear dragons' cries and roars coming from the dragon pit, and my body acts on its own. I grip the chest tighter.

My grandsire passed just a few days after we returned to Dragonstone, and Alicent has already planned to usurp my mother by putting Aegon on the throne. My drunk, good-for-nothing, and irresponsible uncle. My heartbeat quickens when I think about Aemond. Before we left King’s Landing, we shared a kiss. I have tried not to think about it, about how my stomach turns, and my heart skips a beat when it comes to Aemond. I was a fool.

He murdered my baby brother.

The cold air sends a chill down my spine, and I am reminded of the weight of the chest I am holding. My arms start burning. Even if my dragons hatched, they would be useless to me. There is no guarantee they will accept me, and they will be too small to fly if it comes to war. When it comes to war. I do not have the luxury of waiting; time is not on my side. I start climbing a hill, my body throbbing with pain. I do not know where I am going, and I do not know if I am returning alive. When I arrive at the top of the hill, my palms are burning. I feel the first drops of rain on my hot cheeks as I look up at the jet-black sky. The winds are strong, and the moon peeks from behind a cloud.

“Ouch.” I drop the chest on the wet grass as steam starts rising out of it, and my heart drops. Could it be? My dragon eggs are hatching.

I open the chest, my hands trembling, and I see the first crack on the middle egg. The shell splits further, revealing a small, horned hatchling. Its scales are the colour of deep, rich mud, glistening with a sheen of newborn moisture. Its eyes, a striking shade of honey, peer up at me with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. It lets out a high-pitched screech, its tiny wings unfurling slightly as it takes in its surroundings.

Shortly after, the second egg begins to fracture. The pieces fall away, revealing a hatchling that is the spitting image of Syrax, with gleaming, pale gold scales that shimmer in the dim light. This dragon’s eyes are a fierce, bright yellow, filled with an innate sense of pride and defiance. It growls, a surprisingly deep sound for such a small creature, and stretches its delicate wings, testing their strength.

Before I can fully process the first two, the final egg starts to crack open. A long-necked hatchling emerges, its scales a soft, buttery yellow. Its wings are larger in proportion to its body, giving it an almost ethereal appearance. This one is quieter, its cries softer, more like chirps. It lifts its tiny wings, attempting to fly, but only managing to flutter slightly before settling down.

The three of them are no bigger than small dogs, yet their presence is monumental. They wobble towards me on unsteady legs, their honey-coloured eyes filled with a babe-like curiosity and a glimmer of recognition. I wonder if they hatched because they felt the sorrow in my heart, the burning need for purpose and revenge.

This is all I have ever wanted.

I am overwhelmed with a rush of emotions, watching the three warm-coloured hatchlings. They are beautiful, each unique, each a miracle. The muddy-scaled hatchling with its piercing honey eyes, the golden Syrax lookalike with its proud yellow gaze, and the delicate yellow dragon with its ethereal wings. Their cries fill the air, hot steam rising from their tiny bodies as they nuzzle against me.

They have all chosen me, I think, and I hope that I am right. I smile, feeling a strange mixture of maternal pride and fierce determination. I may not have a war dragon, but I have dragon blood, and they know it. The hatchlings' shrieks become more alarmed and nervous as the moonlight is stolen by a black shadow, and all three of them jump into my arms. Holding the hatchlings, I swiftly turn around, and my eyes are met with a pair of gigantic, emerald-coloured dragon eyes staring at me from above.

At first, I mistakenly thought that the huge dragon before me was Vermithor, who had decided to take a stroll into the night, but I soon realize that this dragon has black scales and is much bigger than Vermithor. I squint my eyes, attempting to figure out who this dragon is, but before I come to any conclusion, a low grumble shakes the ground beneath me. My hatchlings grow restless, and suddenly, I am hit with a realization. I let the hatchlings go, putting them back on the ground, and they wail, frightened. The coal-black dragon lowers its head and squints its eyes at my hatchlings. With a sharp snarl, the dragon swallows my three hatchlings, the earth shaking under its weight.

“Sȳrje.” Very well. I speak, and in a second, my hatchlings are gone, but I do not feel sad. The dragon keeps his emerald gaze on me, and I study him further, noticing the two massive horns sticking out of his forehead like obsidian towers.

This must be Cannibal, the largest and oldest of the three wild dragons roaming Dragonstone. He has never had a rider and is often depicted as a wild, violent beast. I feel the ground shake once again as the gigantic dragon lowers its wing before me. I lift my arm up, reaching for its head. His growls become louder, and I watch his two long horns reach for me as his neck stretches out. His abyssal black scales absorb all the moonlight, giving him a shadowy presence.

“Dohaeres, Cannibal.” Serve, Cannibal. I waste no time and take my first step forward towards his shoulder. The dragon growls, but I do not feel menace in its voice. “Dohaeres.” Serve. I take another step towards him and look up. His body is immense, and with no dragon saddle, the chances of me mounting him and not perishing are low, but not non-existent. Cannibal lowers his body even more, puffing hot steam out of his nostrils. I make contact, touching the side of his shoulder, and I tremble when I touch his freezing scales. He shifts again, and I take a step back, almost falling to the ground.

“Lykiri.” Calm down. I say in a comforting voice. With haste, I use the side of his wing, his tilted horn, and his scales to climb on his back. Before I can process that I am on dragon back, Cannibal suddenly gets up, startling me. I grab onto him and pray to the gods that I will not fall. His scales are rough under my body, my thighs already aching, but I brace and tighten my grip.

The dragon takes off with a growl, and I lower myself, hugging his back tightly. He was starving. He was starving, and he claimed me. My heart beats faster and faster, and I feel the dragon’s blood run through my veins. I am reminded of my grandsire’s words: The idea that we control dragons is an illusion. I was completely helpless before him, and he made his decision. I am not in control.

His long wings cut through the thick clouds as we make our way above them. Cannibal rumbles, sending vibrations through my whole body. The air cuts my skin, and he picks up the pace, flying above the clouds. I straighten my back, looking around, trying to decipher where we are headed. My cloak flies off, followed by the bow that was holding my long hair together.

I cannot help but hold tight and admire this majestic dragon. His huge, black scales shine in the faint moonlight, each one like a perfect shield. His wings, vast and powerful, cut through the night air gracefully, despite his massive size. The beat of those wings sends vibrations through my entire body, a reminder of the incredible power beneath me. My heart is full of sorrow and pride, each emotion battling within me. The sorrow for Luke, my beloved brother taken too soon, feels overwhelming. Yet, pride swells within me, for in this moment, I am connected to a creature of legend, a dragon few have seen, and none have tamed. I wonder if Luke sent Cannibal to me from beyond the grave. The thought is both comforting and haunting. Could Luke, with his gentle soul, have reached out from the afterlife to guide this magnificent beast to me? I imagine his face, his innocent eyes filled with curiosity, now watching over me with a wisdom beyond his years. Perhaps it is his spirit that stirs within Cannibal, a final act of brotherly love to protect me in my darkest hour. As we continue to soar through the night, the stars above us and the world far below, I allow myself to believe that Luke’s spirit is guiding me. His presence feels real, and I whisper a silent promise to him. I will be strong. I will carry on. And I will make sure that his death is not in vain. With Cannibal beneath me and Luke’s spirit within me, I am no longer just a grieving sister. I am a rider of the largest dragon that has ever lived, a symbol of hope and defiance against Aemond and the others who seek to destroy my family.

I must have lost track of time, and we must have been flying for a while because I look at the horizon and notice the first sun rays peeking above the sea. All around me, we are surrounded by sea and salt.

"Where are we going, boy?" I whisper, and my body starts to shiver. Without my cloak, I am left with my evening dress, not suited for flying and absolutely not suited for dragon back. I tighten my grip and dare to look past his head. My eyes widen as I realize where we are. King’s Landing. He has flown me to King’s Landing. Panic rushes through my whole body, and my stomach rumbles. Does he know I am angry at my uncle? Does he feel my anger and my hunger for revenge? Will he burn down the palace?

" Daor, Cannibal." No, Cannibal. I say, lowering myself again, attempting to be as close to him as possible. I cannot show the greens that I have claimed a dragon, not yet.

Cannibal lowers himself, and I almost slip and fall. He begins his descent upon King’s Landing. I start climbing his back, grabbing onto every scale I can get my hands on, and slowly making my way up to his head. I thank the gods he does not have a long neck like Caraxes, and I continue my climb. I am close to his head when I hear the first scream and look down. A sailor on King’s Landing beach has spotted us. Soon, more folk start screaming as Cannibal reduces altitude.

"Lykiri." Calm down. I say, grabbing his horns. Cannibal growls again, and soon enough, he makes his way to the Red Keep, the castle’s towers shining dimly in the morning sun. I drown in panic. I do not know what to do.

"Dragon!" I hear the guards shout.

The dragon screeches, a deep and frightening growl, and I feel we are hit by arrows. None of them pierce him, though. Cannibal does not stop, and he circles around one of the castle’s towers, ignoring the White Cloak’s countless arrows that are being thrown in his direction. I recognize the tower we are circling because I’ve been inside the chambers not long ago. Aemond’s chambers. I lower myself and pray that nobody sees that Cannibal has a rider.

“Daor!” No! Feeling powerless, I yell. “Dohaeres.” Serve.

Before I can process what happened, Cannibal takes off and I am left on Aemond’s balcony. Cannibal has taken off as swiftly as he landed, disappearing above the clouds. I am unsure if I was spotted, or if the guards saw that Cannibal has a rider. One thing I know for sure is that Aemond has not noticed my arrival.

Thankfully, I do not leave anywhere without a dagger. I take it out of my grater and make my way to the door. The sun has not yet risen, and it is difficult for me to see through the window. But I can hear.

“Maehrys, Maehrys, Maehrys.” Aemond’s voice is trembling, filled with something that makes my heartbeat quicken. Does he know I am here?

I look back, hoping to see Cannibal in my proximity, but it is hopeless. There is no going back. I hold my breath and open the balcony door as quietly as I can. I thank the Gods that Aemond has his back turned on me and is sitting in front of the fireplace on a chair. The first thing I notice is his eyepatch, slanted on the small table beside him. The second thing I noticed is an empty flask of wine next to the eyepatch. He mutters under his breath, words I cannot understand, and puts his head in his hands. I slowly and swiftly make my way to him, holding my breath and hoping he does not hear my heartbeat.

Suddenly, I cannot hear again. Suddenly, my heart tells me to pierce my dagger through the back of his skull. Suddenly, I am two and ten again, relentlessly harassed by my uncle.

I grab the chair he is sitting on and turn it around, my muscles aching and my heart pounding. With a swift kick, Aemond falls on his back, startled. Before he has time to react, I put all my body weight onto his, placing his left wrist under my right knee. I grab his right hand with my free hand and place my dagger underneath his chin.

“Maehrys?” He asks. Aemond’s cheeks are flushed and wet, his good eye is wide open, and his sapphire eye is reflecting the fireplace’s fire. I waste no time and apply pressure onto his throat with my dagger.

“Why?” I ask, swallowing hard. For the first time in my life, I do not act out on my anger, and decide that before I kill my uncle, I want to get as much information about the greens as I can.

“I did not mean to kill him!” he exclaims. The desperation in his voice gives me a rush and I loosen the pressure on my dagger. “I just-“ he chokes. “I just wanted to scare him, get revenge because he took my eye.” I apply pressure again. He does not react. “I lost control of Vhagar.” I can smell the alcohol in his breath and the regret in his voice.

“He was but a child.” Once again, I feel tears run down my cheeks.

“I was a child too.” He speaks. “When he took my eye, when Jace and Aegon laughed at me because I did not have a dragon.”

“And now you do.” I cut a bit deeper, a small river of blood ran down his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, and my tears fall onto his face. “I’m sorry, Maehrys.” I feel his long leg kick my back and I wince in pain, loosening the grip on my dagger. In a heartbeat, he knocks it out of my hand and throws me on the floor, his body now on mine, holding me with great strength. My heart beats faster than before and I squirm, hopelessly trying to get him off of me. My mind is foggy, and I lose control of my body, kicking the floor, attempting to grab anything in my proximity, but all my efforts are for nothing.

Aemond’s grip tightens, his breath hot and ragged against my ear. “Please, Maehrys,” he whispers, his voice a mix of desperation and regret. “I never wanted any of this.”

But his words do little to soothe the storm inside me. My heart is a cauldron of rage and grief, each beat echoing the loss of my brother, the betrayal, and the pain. I look into Aemond’s eyes, searching for any sign of the boy I once knew, the uncle who could have been different. But all I see is the man who took Luke from me, and I cannot forgive that.

With a final, desperate surge of strength, I try to push him off, my nails digging into his arms, but he is too strong. My movements grow weaker, and I feel the fight leaving my body. Tears of frustration and sorrow stream down my face as I lay there, pinned and powerless, the dagger just out of reach. The weight of my helplessness crushes me as Aemond’s face hovers inches from mine, his eyes filled with a torment that mirrors my own.

“Why?” I ask again, choking on my tears, my voice breaking under the weight of my sorrow and rage.

“I told you, I lost control of Vhagar,” he answers quickly, his voice tinged with desperation, but it isn't enough for me.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Why were you saying my name before I attacked you?” I try to stall, needing to understand, needing something more from him.

His one good eye, filled with a mixture of pain and something I can’t quite place, locks onto mine. “Maehrys,” he begins, his voice trembling. “I was calling for you because… because I needed you. I needed to tell you how sorry I am, how much I regret everything.”

“Regret?” I spit out the word, feeling the hot sting of betrayal and grief. “You think regret will bring Luke back?”

“No,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Nothing can bring him back. But I needed you to know that I am not the monster you think I am. I needed you to hear it from me, to see that I am suffering too.” His words hang in the air, a desperate plea for absolution that I am not sure I can give.

Then, without warning, he crashes his lips onto mine. It is not a kiss of love, but of desperation, anger, and regret. His lips are forceful, almost punishing, as if trying to convey all the emotions he cannot put into words. I try to resist, but the intensity of the kiss overwhelms me, drawing me into the storm of his feelings. Our tears mingle, the salt stinging the rawness of the kiss. His hands grip my arms tightly, almost painfully, as if afraid I will disappear if he lets go. The kiss deepens, a fierce battle of wills, a collision of our broken hearts. I taste the wine on his tongue. My own anger and sorrow surge to the surface, and I kiss him back with equal fervour, letting all my emotions pour into that single, heart-wrenching moment.

Our kiss is broken by Cannibal’s screeches, and I seize the moment. While Aemond is distracted, I push him off me and make a run for the balcony doors. I open both of them and sigh in relief when I see my dragon, the powerful wind wiping away my tears. I wait a few seconds before turning back to Aemond.

"Have you ever wondered how I managed to get up here?" I ask Aemond, a sadistic smile forming on my face.

"You—" he starts, but I do not let him finish. He has said and done enough for one night.

"I am no longer dragonless," I tell him, basking in the horrified expression that crosses his face.

Cannibal puffs hot air out of his nostrils, a sign he wants me to climb him. The sound of his wings flapping stops, and I hear one of the outer walls of the Red Keep almost giving way under his weight. The dragon lowers his wing, and I successfully climb it.

As I settle onto Cannibal's back, I take one last look at Aemond. His face is a mix of shock and fear, emotions I never thought I’d see in him. The satisfaction of seeing him so vulnerable fills me with a sense of triumph. But there is no time to dwell on it.

Cannibal takes off, and the rush of wind engulfs me, scattering my thoughts. The kiss, the fight, the fleeting moment of connection—they are all left behind in the chaos. My focus sharpens as the Red Keep becomes smaller beneath us.

In the sky, I find a small victory. I have my dragon, my escape, and for now, that is enough. The pain and confusion of tonight will have to wait. There is no time to process what just happened, no room for lingering on the emotions that battle within me. All that matters is the freedom of the open sky and the powerful beast beneath me, carrying me far away from the nightmares of the past.

With a final screech, we are vertical again, his wings fluttering with violence and speed, and I am almost thrown off him. My whole body jerks violently as the dragon ascends, and I lose my grip momentarily, my fingers slipping from the rough scales. The world tilts and spins, and I see the ground far below, a blur of grey stone and green foliage. My heart leaps into my throat, and a scream escapes my lips as I feel myself sliding, the wind tearing at my clothes and hair.

I claw desperately at Cannibal's scales, my nails scraping against the hard surface. My legs dangle precariously, and my body is aching as we gain altitude. The dragon's immense wings beat powerfully, each stroke sending a rush of air that threatens to dislodge me completely. I manage to catch hold of a small ridge on Cannibal's back, my fingers digging in with all my strength. My arms burn with the effort, muscles straining as I fight to pull myself back up.

"Cannibal, please!" I cry out, my voice barely audible over the roar of the wind and the dragon's growls. He seems oblivious to my struggle, focused entirely on his flight. The cold air bites at my skin, and I feel a sharp pain in my palms as they begin to bleed, the rough scales cutting into them.

I cannot die. Not now, when I am no longer dragon less. Not now, when I have a fair shot of defeating Aemond. Not now, when I finally do not feel powerless anymore.

I cannot die.

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Taglist: @watermel0nsugarhigh @ondereleutheromania@literishdegree99

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #cannibal asoif

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sephirothsplaything · 2 months

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DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 13

A/N: If you squint closely,you'll see my thirst for Jace seep through!

Rhaella? You ok in there? What do we think about this chapter? I've been itching to slowly reveal how dark Rhaella can be if you couldn't tell. Also! Rhaella and Jace…what's that about, lets hope their dynamic is normal and healthy.

TW: Mentions of blood and uh death. I love Ser Erryk btw

RHAELLA FOUND THAT SLEEP would hardly come easy from this point onwards.

e had given her breakfast to Astris, who accepted it gladly. Rhaella could not find it in herself to do much of anything.

Guilt.Loathing. Anger.

A helpless loop the girl had remained in.

"I have not yet asked my father about your freedom," Rhaella admitted.

It was mostly for Astris's benefit, as Mysaria seemed disengaged from the conversation.

"I can hardly hold it against you, he is quite fearsome," Astris responded.

"Among other things," Mysaria added bitterly.

The heavy thud of iron rang out in the prison halls, interrupting anything further.

"Lady Rhaella." Ser Erryk greeted. Rhaella's body slightly tensed as she was hardly allowed in the dungeons.

"Good morrow, Ser," Rhaella said, removing herself from the front of the cell. The guard stared at her for a moment, as if contemplating something.

"You need not worry." Ser Erryk said kindly. He grasped the keys from his pocket, unlocking the cell.

Mysaria held no look of surprise, almost expectant. Astris on the other hand gleefully exited the cell, taking her place by Rhaella.

"The Prince Daemon has seen for your freedom." Ser Errryk said.

Rhaella's brow furrowed in confusion. Her sharpened eyes turned to Mysaria who quietly thanked Erryk.

She had done something, Rhaella was sure. Mysaria, instead brushed past her leaving Astris and Rhaella to themselves.

"I thought I would be confined there forever!" Astris exclaims. Rhaella manages a slight smile.

"Come," Rhaella said, walking off. Astris was quick to follow, falling into her familiar role.

Rhaella escorted Astris to her chambers, shutting the door behind her.

"You may stay here for a time," Rhaella said. She dug around the wardrobe, placing her old dresses onto Astris's lap.

"What will you do?" Astris hummed, admiring the fine fabrics. They were admittedly not her style. But a needle and thread would remedy it.

"I shall ask the queen for your leave." Rhaella decided. Truthfully, Rhaella doubted the Queen Rhaenyra was in a state to be so gracious.

So, Rhaella left Astris to herself. She tread down the halls, lost in thought. Her mind had since decided to speak to Rhaena, who had not left her room as of yet.

Rhaena would not want to see her, Rhaella knew. But her fist knocked on the door anyhow.

"It is me," Rhaella spoke, almost softly.

Expectedly, her sister offered naught a response. Slowly, Rhaella opened the door to her sister's quarters.

And there the lady Rhaena was, cradled into herself on the couch. She did not so much as twitch at the sound of Rhaella's footsteps.

"You haven't eaten," Rhaella commented. It was a mindless observation, making up for her own hesitation.

Nothing. And Rhaella could not find it in herself to blame her.

"I…understand your contempt, Rhaena," Rhaella said. The air was thick and Rhaella could hardly bear the treatment.

"You understand nothing," Rhaena snapped. Anger was palpable in her tone, causing Rhaella's eyes to flinch.

Rhaena had never spoken to her like that before. However, Rhaella preferred this to the dismissal of her existence.

Their father did that well enough.

Rhaella stared at her sister. Her white loced hair served as a painful reminder of their mother's skilled hands.

Rhaena sat up from her position, the whites of her eyes were red. The sight tore Rhaella apart.

She had hurt her, even indirectly. And she would punish herself for it.

"Your love has taken mine," Rhaena said, voice wavering. Rhaella forced herself to avert her eyes.

"I do not love him," Rhaella said. Mayhaps the lie served to protect herself. Rhaena thought better though.

"You cannot fool me like you do others, I know you," Rhaena said.

And Rhaella wished the fact to be false. Baela had been raised on Driftmark, leaving the two dragonless sisters to cling unto one another, bonded in uncertainty.

"What would you have me do, Rhaena?" Rhaella said. Her feelings would hardly bring Luke back.

In spite of her sister's sobs before her, Rhaella felt defensive. It was not her fault. She had done nothing.

Rhaena's sobs wrecked her body. And Rhaella watched. A sister would hug,offer comfort. Rhaella could not give her either.

Instead, Rhaella fell to her knees, gripping her sister's hands.

"Hate me if you wish, curse my name if it pleases you," Rhaella said earnestly.

Her forehead touched the fingertips of her sister's hands; Praying for a forgiveness she did not deserve. For her feelings for the kinslayer could not change.

"But please sister, do not ignore me." Rhaella pleaded.

Rhaena looked at her sister for a beat of time. It was haunting, really. Rhaella possessed the face of their mother. Her silver curls fell down her back like a trail of ridicule.

But Rhaella's eyes were forever cold and jarring, tainting the gift of her mother.

It was a shame.

"Even if the Gods wished it, I could never hate you," Rhaena said. She could not deny her little sister, even now.

Rhaella breathed out. Rhaena held the caring spirit of their mother, always trying to see the good in others.

"Thank you Rhaena," Rhaella said, standing up. Rhaena's broken state was enough to incite fury in her.

Aemond had hurt her sister. So Rhaella would hurt him.

"Will you not attend today's meeting?" Rhaella asked. Rhaena shook her head and Rhaella did not press further.

........

WHEN Rhaella learned that Jaehaerys had been slain in his bed only one thought came to mind.

Helaena could not survive this. Her older cousin was such a fragile girl, far too gentle for this world.

And her son. Rhaella recalled how she practically begged Rhaenyra to fly her to Kings Landing, for fear she would lose her cousin to childbirth.

It was a laborious pregnancy and the end result was two little twin babes. Helena had insisted she hold one of them.

Rhaella was ten years of age, staring down at the sickly small babe in her arms.

Poor child.

"But it's a lie." Queen Rhaenyra scoffed out, clearly appalled by the vicious but admittedly strategic accusations.

Rhaella tuned out the nonsense that had become of the black council. Hardly anything mattered and she could not bring herself to find any interest in the discussion.

She felt the elbow of Jace softly nudge her side. Rhaella blinked up at him. She wondered if he secretly celebrated the death of Aegon's firstborn.

No, he was taken aback as well. Jacaerys held a stern expression, quite unlike himself. But his eyes, those were soft.

Somehow, his expression quelled Rhaella for a time. It was odd.

"One might think, naturally her grace would seek relief." Ser Alfred ventured out.

Queen Rhaenyra rose from her seat abruptly.

"Are you claiming my grief would drive me to the slaughter of a child?"

"Perhaps an action taken in haste." Ser Alfred said.

Jace's grip on the handle of his sword tightened. Rhaella took a certain comfort in knowing he was angry, amongst other feelings.

Hungry to take action. Much like herself.

"Mind yourself," Rhaenys said. Following the gaze of her grandmother, Rhaella's eyes fell unto her father. He had been unnervingly silent.

Much too silent for Rhaella's liking. There was a certain smugness to him, one that could only come with a gratification of some sort.

It had almost slipped her mind, what kind of monster her father was. He considered others little and less. Daemon was entirely self-serving.

Rhaella could have screamed at him, maybe it would have lessened her own guilt.

"Nyke vēdros ao." Rhaella hissed out like a snake's venom. And she meant it wholeheartedly. 'I hate you.'

Jace tried to reach out to her, in vain. Rhaella misliked him at the moment as well. How could he look up to such a man?

Rhaella walked until her feet stung, all the way to the Dragonmount, her sanctuary. Hiking up her dress, Rhaella scaled the rocky terrain.

She wished to wipe her mind from everything. But for now, her spite took root again.

The heat and steam emitting from the caves were enough to make her feel faint. Rhaella enjoyed it; She could pass out right there for a while.

Instead, her rage intensified as she dug her hands into an egg sack. Her hands stung, badly which she paid no mind. A gleaming yellow egg emerged, one from the dragons' Syrax and Caraxes.

Clutching it underneath her arm, Rhaella entered to the Cannibals' cave. She did not bother the caution, he would've already caught her scent.

"Aegarax,māzīs".Rhaella cooed to the dragon.'Come'. Slowly, his large black head emerged from the darkness. His low growl shot straight through her body.

Cautiously, Rhaella presented the dragon egg from her hands. She met the dragon's piercing green eyes; Starved.

If he would take the egg straight from her hands, it would be welcome progress. Rhaella moved closer, gesturing the egg closer to the Cannibal's nostrils.

"Lykirī, kisās". Rhaella spoke again, gently in tone yet commanding. 'Be calm, eat'. Aegarax, wild dragon that he was, seemed to enjoy testing the limits of Rhaella's courage. She wouldn't be remiss to think he found it funny to scare her.

In a quick snap, Aegarax snatched the egg with his mouth from Rhaella's hand. He crunched down in satisfaction, staring at her for a moment.

The back of Rhaella's hand stroked his nose. She longed to fly, to take Aegrarax and flee to the East.

"Is my irritation that obvious to you?" Rhaella hummed out. She was annoyingly close to the power she lusted for.

'You will have it, soon enough.'

There it was. Rhaella thought she had ridden herself of it.

A sharp pain in her head brought her down to kneel. Hisses and whispers of madness plagued her mind.

'You shall see!'

'The beauty and the horror of your desire!'

Aegarax's loud roar pulled her out of it. Rhaella wobbled as she stood to her feet. She had more than enough of this. Answers to her questions must be found.

............

"And…you say it is a man's voice?" Astris questions. Her black eyes studied Rhaella's exasperated state. She had since noticed a change in her lady, the aura around her had darkened significantly.

"Sometimes it sounds like a man, but I cannot be sure." Rhaella sighed out. Her body fell back onto her bed. "Am I being plagued by devils?"

The Pentoshi girl sat in silence for a moment. She had seen much and more in her time, but this was unique. Peering into the shadows and keeping her ears to nature could not answer for this absurdity.

"It must need you to fulfill an act." Astris decided. "Perhaps establishing contact would remedy the confusion?"

At this, Rhaella sat up. She did not fear Astris, but rather her uncanny abilities. Witchcraft was not to be trifled with.

"A ritual, you mean," Rhaella said uncertainly. She had since decided long ago that there were no Gods in this life. And she was not so eager to be proven wrong.

"Of sorts, summoning dark things is dangerous work." Astris said. Her pale fingers ran through her blackened hair.

"You are more exposed to otherworldly properties than the rest of your bloodline."

The Targaryens were no stranger to dark arts, Rhaella knew. Many women before her used it to suit their needs, so perhaps she should follow.

Rhaella shook the thought from her head.

"Will you not leave with Mysaria?" Rhaella switched over, eyes boring into the black-haired girl. Some kind of beauty, Astris was. Pentos could not comprehend such a thing, much their loss.

"Hmm, I've just now found purpose here, my lady," Astris said.

"You wish to serve, not for freedom?" Rhaella said, her eyes now trailing down to the girls' soft lips. She could do it, quickly if she made haste. Rhaella knew Astris surely wouldn't mind. It would be a more than welcome distraction.

The image of Aemond and his heated gaze filled her mind. A mocking reminder of what she truly was.

Rhaella scooted herself away, hands folded to her lap. She could not forget herself again.

If Astris did notice the change, she said nothing. "You need me, i've seen the state of your wardrobe." Astris scoffed out.

"What's wrong with it?" Rhaella asked, almost offended. Astris stood up making her way to the closet. Dress after dress was tossed onto the bed.

"When I was in your service, you were always dressed handsomely," Astris said. She paused to hold up a gaudy brown dress in disgust.

Amused, Rhaella moved the dresses to the side. She never much cared for what she wore, Rhaena was the one interested in fashion. Baela tended to be quite boyish in her choices.

So long as Rhaella's hair was braided neatly, nothing else mattered. Astris, despite her bastard status, dressed like a Pentoshi princess. Gold and silks.

"You'll have your work ahead of you, I think." Rhaella jokes. Astris pulled a snarky look, tossing another dress in Rhaella's face.

"A clever jest," Astris said sarcastically.

"I thought so," Rhaella said plainly.

A knock at the door interrupted further conversation.

"Come," Rhaella answered, standing up.

It was Ser Lorent, one of the queen's guards.

"The queen summons you, my lady," He said.

The Dragonkeepers had likely discovered her doings, much to her dismay. Rhaella followed the knight out, to the queen's chamber.

Rhaella's hands twitched in nervousness. When was the last time she had spoken to the queen? And alone?

"Your grace?" Rhaella settled on. The queen turned to her as the maid halted her braided movements.

"I am interested to know the status of that dragon." Queen Rhaenyra said. The tone was eerily motherly, it made Rhaella shift her weight.

"He will not yet allow me to mount, your grace," Rhaella responded.

"The Dragon keepers tell me he prefers eggs" Queen Rhaenyra looked at her pointedly.

Rhaella was unwavering, as she was not interested in being lectured.

"He is the Cannibal," Rhaella said. Queen Rhaenyra smiled. Daemon had just left off to..wherever, and his replacement had come to cause her grief.

The door of Rhaenyra's room flung open. Both turned toward the sight.

"Ser Erryk?" She called, confused. Rhaella figured she would take her leave now, not wanting to cause an interruption.

However, no such relief came. Ser Erryk gripped her arm tightly, pressing her body against his armor, sword drawn to her neck.

Rhaella gasped out at the feeling of the cold metal. But all thoughts halted at her confusion. Ser Erryk was noble and gentle, this was unlike him.

This was not him. Rhaella thrashed wildly, trying in vain to break free from his hold.

"Know that this gives me no pleasure." Ser Arryk gruffed out.

"Ser Erryk?" Queen Rhaenyra's eyes were shaken as Rhaella held them. It was a rather pathetic way for her to die.

"Either the girl or you."Ser Arryk said again. The side of the blade cut into her neck, blood seeping down.

"I do not understand," Rhaenyra said. Rhaella held no such panic, she had since made up her mind.

" Nyke emagon nykeā egros, issa dāria" Rhaella spoke calmly.'I have a blade, my queen.'

It would hardly do much, but she would try anyhow. Rhaella's elbow slammed into Ser Arryk's eye. Bellowing out in pain, his hold loosened.

Elinda shrieked, hiding behind the table as Rhaella swiftly came to the queen's front, drawing her dagger.

"Assassin." Rhaella breathed out. There was a rush through her blood, coming so close to death. The iron smell of her blood hazed her senses. Rhaenyra held onto Rhaella's shoulder, pushing in front of her.

"Elinda!" Rhaenyra said. "Run and find Ser Lorant."

The maid sped out of the chamber, leaving Rhaella and Rhaenyra to manage.

Rhaella clutched the valyrian steel tighter. The last time she killed, the neck had been open to her. But Rhaella concluded that this time, she would aim for his traitorous eyes.

"Rhaella, you should go as well," Rhaenyra said.

"You will be slaughtered, your grace," Rhaella responded. In this way at least, she could find a way to stall him.

"Brother!" Ser Erryk yelled out. The two brothers' swords clashed.

Madness in uncertainty. Who was who? Queen Rhaenyra shoved Rhaella out of harm's way.

The twin blades were much too close to the queen, she sustained bruises from her fall.

"You must stand!" Rhaella urged. But alas, both the women were rendered helpless.

"Your Grace!" The voice of Ser Lorent called out. His voice might have brought the queen relief, but not Rhaella. She still wished to plunge her dagger into Ser Arryk's skin.

The knight took up the queen's hand, guiding her away from the fight. Rhaella's eyes tracked Ser Arryk, although it was hard. Perhaps it was true that they said about twins, forever soul-tied.

Suddenly, Ser Erryk plunged his sword into the stomach of his brother. Rhaella watched his armored body thud to the floor.

The dark crimson blood pooled onto the stone floor. Rhaella's mouth parted, enthralled by the sight.

"Forgive me, your grace." Ser Erryk stuttered out. He then turned his sword into himself, falling to his knees.

Rhaella guided Rhaenyra to sit, her grace looked terribly pale. Jacaerys came rushing in, blade drawn.

"Mother?" He said. Rhaenyra looked relieved to see him.

"I'm alright, Jace," Rhaenyra said. He looked to Rhaella in her bloodstained state,clearly withdrawn.

Jace placed his hands atop Rhaella's shoulders, checking for any extraneous injuries. Rhaella's gaze locked into him. Jace's black curls fell into his concerned eyes. She supposed this was how Baela saw him. Handsome by all accounts.

"I shall fetch a maester for you," Jace said. Blinking slowly, Rhaella waved him off.

"I do not need it, cousin." She said. Astris could easily remedy whatever cuts she sufficed. Almost reluctantly, Jace's hands fell to his side, turning back to his mother.

Thus was the second loss of both the Greens and Blacks.

#house of the dragon #black oc #oc character #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #baela targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #black reader #rhaena of pentos #aemond x reader #hotd season 2 #hotd #hotd spoilers #hotd s2 #hotdedit #alicent hightower #viserys i targaryen #aegon ii targaryen

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maybeiwasjustjade · 3 months

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Alicent and Aegon (+ Aemond and Helaena)

The best part about writing a fic that’s basically a redux of the whole Dance, is being able to dive into character relationships that the show either abandoned, or didn’t bother giving justice to. Alicent and Aegon’s relationship is just so messy and complex, especially because a lot of it stems from generational trauma. Their relationship (or lack thereof) is the definition of two things can be right and trauma isn’t mutually exclusive.

Alicent having a hard time loving and/or connecting with Aegon because of her trauma AND Aegon thinking his mother doesn’t love him and possibly resents her for it can both be true at the same time.

An abuse victim can also be an abuser.

Alicent may have her reasons for perhaps not being capable of being a loving mother to all her children, but the child feeling unloved is not his fault. Children are not extensions of their parents; they’re real people too

No child is raised by the same parent. Everyone has different experiences even with the same parent.

Aegon and Alicent really were doomed from the start. She was fifteen when she had him—conceived from marital rape, no love shared just duty and lust, an unwanted yet prayed for son—too young by half to be forced into her role. And it really is no surprise that she perhaps had such a hard time connecting with him, or even loving him beyond duty. She had him out of duty; firstborn sons belong to the realm, to their houses, and seldom their mother. Aegon was always meant to be Viserys’ son, not hers.

I think the only child that Alicent actually loves is Aemond (we don’t know anything about Daeron). Helaena, she’s fond of. Overprotective, because Helaena is a girl like her, and like her, she’s going to be forced into a role far too young, with children that will grow up alongside her. But Alicent never really understood Helaena and her quirks, so I don’t think she knows how to really love her either. And as a Dreamer, Helaena would always straddle that line between being her mother’s daughter, and unknowingly a Targaryen Dreamer.

Aemond, though, is Alicent’s through and through. He’s just like her, for all that he looks the most like Viserys. His rage, his anger, his inferiority and insecurity—he hides all of it under a cloak of piety and piousness and cold competence. In a perfect world where Alicent got to choose her own life, Aemond would be her first and only son. Him, she could pretend was a Tower , and not a Dragon.

Aegon is the complete opposite. Aegon is a reminder of everything Alicent hates and regrets and wishes never happened to her. Aegon is all dragon, and none of her. His birth signaled war, his mere existence a crime. The firstborn son who isn’t really the firstborn, because Aegon would never be Baelon. He’s not pious or respectable or cold; Aegon is wildfire ready to burn everything down for just even a shred of love. Because that’s the root of him, isn’t it? A son meant for the realm but was unwanted; a firstborn unclaimed by his own father. A mirror for his mother’s rage and pain.

Alicent loses everything to have him, and it never mattered at all. And then he had the audacity to be born the spitting image of her. She can’t hurt herself without hurting him or love him without causing herself pain, and he only ever wanted to be seen as himself, and still be loved.

(Which is why writing RARTS and ripple is so much fun. RARTS dives a little more into Aegon’s feelings as he grows up the least favorite child of both his parents, and all the many, many issues that comes with it. His mother’s face but Aemma’s hair and eyes. Forever the ghost that haunts Rhaenyra by being the perfect mix of everyone’s she’s ever loved and lost, in the body of the son she’ll never be.

Ripple plays a little more as a character study of Aegon in a world where he wasn’t born with all that strife and trauma attached to his shoulders. Rhaenyra would never be a son, but Aegon would never be Rhaenyra. So what would Aegon be like, in a world without those expectations bearing down on him like a second skin? His promiscuity and drinking seems to be a product of his trauma and need for love, so it’s kinda fun to see an Aegon who doesn’t do any of that while still trying to escape her duties (marriage))

#hotd #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon ii fanfic #team green #character study #tbf this just my interpretation of the characters #tgc’s aegon #thankfully we have that tag #and away from the fuckery condal and hess has created #jadefics

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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coaxed you into paradise - c. 19

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Nineteen: Kepa's Concern

Saera rubs her son’s back - comforting him away from the thought of his father brutally hurting his mentor. The fight in the courtyard seemed to rattle his brain, prompting him to look at his parental figures in a different light. ‘Father attacks, and mother protects.’

“Are you alright, ñuha ōños? (my light)” she inquires, while handing him a goblet of water. “Kessa, (yes)” he answers, muttering a round of thanks while he gobbles the drink down. As soon as she realizes that her son was alright - her eyes begin to nail daggers into Harwin’s body.

“You couldn’t have avoided it?” she antagonized, but with a soft voice - not expecting him to cleverly maim Ser Criston. “He tried to stain my honor,” he argued, earning another glare from his wife. “ - and by reacting, you have confirmed it in their eyes.” she nagged. After Prince’s Joffrey’s birth, Saera’s anger for Harwin seemed to grow even further.

“Do you suggest that I stand there and take his insults lightly?” he inquired with a sarcastic tone, crossing his arms in a standoffish demeanor. “Yes!” she answered. “ - even when it brings my loyalty into question?” he scoffed, and her eyes widened slightly. “Your loyalty is not for disloyal men to decide. If it is - then perhaps it isn’t yours to begin with.” she raised her voice slowly - not wanting to fight in front of her child.

He was about to say another word - but his eyes trail down to his son. Daegon was the thickest of his blood, his heir, and son. He took a deep breath, “The situation was in control,” he hummed, crossing his arms - not wanting to surrender the battle. “I don’t want it happening again.” she said firmly, hands tight around her son’s back.

He nodded his head.

“Of course,” his lips settled into a thin line.

He turns his back behind his family - feeling an ache form in his head. How long has it been since he’s had a proper conversation with his wife? Three years ago? Four years ago? He couldn’t even remember the smell of her perfume at night, or her calm breathing. There was a time where he promised to give her his best self - but those were gone, never to return.

He sees the way that she stares at him - with storms in her eyes, braving a battle between loving or hating him forever. He doesn’t want that - because all his heart ever desires is Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra whose eyes held constellations and colors that he’s never seen. Rhaenyra who has given him three healthy sons.

He has reached a point too far to ever return - and perhaps, he doesn’t want to return at all.

—

“Aegon and Jacaerys were talking about you.” Helaena hums, petting the small centipede hidden in her palms. Helaena was Viserys’ true forgotten daughter - the Princess that no one remembers. “You cried, they said - and Princess Saera had to comfort you.” she explains with no reluctance, not realizing that Daegon’s face was turning a pink hue.

“I didn’t cry,” he lied - not wanting to be emasculated in the eyes of his aunt. “It’s alright to cry, my mother says that it makes you stronger.” she smiled, eyes still painted on the bug on her hands.

In his eyes however - Helaena was the mystical creature, his aunt who was older than him always had a strange aura following her. Saera tells him that Helaena is a very smart girl - but the people at court say that she is a half-wit. Daegon knows better than to believe his hearsay.

“Can we stop talking about that,” he complains, not wanting to expand upon the thought that his father and idol - would do something to harm another person. “ - I’d like to hear more about your dreams.” he pleaded, laying his head on the silk pillow that adorned Helaena’s carpeted chambers.

Her voice flowed like honey - words that exited her mouth always left him imagining a place far away. “They aren’t dreams - merely verses that come to me.” Helaena corrects, placing the bug down inside his little home. “Tell me about them, then please.” he demanded - eyes twinkling with joy.

She gathers a few shells - banging them together to form a tune. “I haven’t quite gotten the first sentences yet, but I know that it ends like this,” she explains tapping the shells to create a small melody - loud enough so they’d be the only ones listening.

“ - in the end, we all become spools of white, the ashes that we came from.” she looked at the ceiling, praying that she’d remember the other words to the prophecy.

“Like Winter?” he asked - remembering his mother’s story about the Starks.“Or fire.” she responded.

—

Saera played with the ball on the council-table, eyes darting around the room to anticipate what kind of meeting would begin.

“I have felt the strife between our families and for any offense given by me, I apologize - but we are one house and long before that, we were friends. My son, Jacaerys will inherit the throne after me and I propose that we marry him to your daughter, Helaena, to ally ourselves once and for all.” Rhaenyra smiled, reciting the string of words that she and Saera prepared.

It would be best to end the war before it began.

“Additionally if Melarys and Syrax bring forth another clutch of eggs, your son Aemond will have his choice of them.” Rhaenyra continued, meeting the eyes of her sister. Saera’s hand moved to her necklace, fiddling with it as she realized that Alicent’s face began to turn sour.

Idiot. She thought as the Queen began to rise from her chair.

Saera knows about Alicent’s plan of marrying Helaena and Aegon. It was the worst political decision she’s ever heard - but Alicent was never the one to think about the future. “We will think about it, Rhaenyra - you’ve just finished your labors with Prince Joffrey. You should rest.” Alicent smiles bitterly.

Saera’s grip on the necklace tightened.

That means ‘no.’

She’ll have to think of other ways again. Perhaps her son, Daegon? But then Rhaenyra would believe that she did that on purpose, to outshine her own boys.

—

“Being in court is infuriating.” Saera ranted, taking a large swig of her ale. When she was young - she didn’t understand why her uncle was always angry, but now she does - because they were all idiots. “Alicent has denied a betrothal between Helaena and Jace, which confirms my suspicion that she believes that Aegon has a chance in becoming King.” she rolled her eyes.

Rhaenyra was heir because of a decree - not custom, thus it led to the Hightowers having more plans than necessary.

“My brother loves all his children - but I know for a fact that he adores Aemma’s girls. Rhaenyra especially.” Daemon hummed, listening at his niece’s words cautiously. He’s taken a leave with the council - now focusing upon training the new recruits of the gold-cloaks. Harwin was still commander, but they listened to the Rogue Prince more.

“ - but Aegon is a man, and that far outweighs anything.” she argued, skin prickling at the thought of someone usurping her sister. “Rhaenyra is equipped - Ser Otto agrees that she is the second coming of King Jahaerys.” she explained, feeling the alcohol course through her veins.

“The very reason my father is king is because Princess Rhaenys is a woman.” she enunciated, praying to the gods that her kepus would get the point. “I don’t care about Rhaenyra, sweet girl.” he hums, pulling her closer to his lap. She leans her head on his chest - thinking of everything.

“ - instead of thinking about your sister, think about how you can keep our children safe,” he whispered. If war breaks, then their children are in the front spikes. “As much as you hate to believe it - you are Rhaenyra’s heir.” he asserts, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“ - and her bastards have lesser claims,” he adds.

next chapter>>

taglist. @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @issybee0611 @tato0od @daemonskelitsos @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @batmans-love @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness

#daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

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ultralightpoe · 2 years

Text

Kin of Sorrow - Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: Sorry for the delay! Had a terrible thing happen at work!

Warnings: Smut, death, threats.

Word Count: 3284

Description: Aemond is summoned home to his hurt family

Blood of my Blood series (The series before this one): Part One -- Part Two -- Part Three

Kin Series : Part One -- Part Two --

The raven came in the middle of negotiations, Aemond had stood behind his half sister with his arms behind his back. He was tired and sore. Sleeping in this shitty place seemed impossible, the room always cold and wet and with you nowhere near him he could never really let sleep claim him.

So he took to training, but his uncle was a bastard who liked to take cheap shots and send him to the mud. Embarrassment and anger seemed to be the only thing he could feel.

He missed you and he missed his children.

Before he left he had gotten into with Caspian about his training, and though Aemond knew that he was sometimes a dick all he wanted to do was make sure his son could protect himself just as he should have been able to when he lost his eye.

It had been a couple weeks since he left, he had counted the minutes since Vhagar had taken flight and you had disappeared from his view, holding your two children closely.

He was so close to passing out right then and there until a page boy burst through the room, soaked to the bone and holding a parchment tightly. “A message came in for Lord Aemond before the storm broke.”

Aemond was close to correcting his mistake in title as he reached for the parchment sharply, glaring. The room was silent as everyone watched him open the parchment and read.

‘Your family is in danger. Come home immediately. - Alicent’

Vhagar roared in fury as they tore through the storm, Aemond gripping the reins so tight he was losing feeling in his hand.

The rain was hitting him hard, his hair flying in the wind as he swooped to avoid a blast of lightning, nearly falling from the saddle. “VHAGAR GO!”

She listened, maybe because she knew that her family was in danger, and blew a blast of fire through the sky to fly through as a way to avoid the rain and speed up.

If anything happened to you or the children he would burn the fucking place down. He imagined all the things that could have happened, all the things that could have gone wrong.

Has one of the dragons gone insane? Had Rhaenyra gotten in trouble? Had your ex husband's family come to snatch you away the second he left?

His mother couldn’t have been vaguer if she tried, he was going to kill her for not telling him details.

It took two days of straight flying to get back to King's Landing, not even bothering to lead Vhagar to the dragonpit instead letting her land on a tower of the Red Keep. He slides off the saddle and pulls his sword the second he lands on the ground, pushing it into a guards throat. “Take me to them. Now.”

The guard, to his credit, didn’t piss himself as he turned to lead the way.

His mother must have seen his landing, for she was beside him in a flash, snatching his arm. “Before you lose your mind you must know that I tried tp talk some sense into-”

“Remove. Your. Fucking. Hand.” He seethes, shoving her off before noticing the direction they were going. “Why are we heading to the dungeons?!”

“That’s where they are keeping them…….” Alicent whispers, eyes welling up with tears as Aemond shoves past them both and runs down.

His chest loosens as he sees your hair in his line of sight, before tightening again at the image. There you were, pregnant and holding both of your children so tightly.

You were pale, and obviously sick.

“How long have they been in here?!” He shouts, taking his sword to the lock of the dungeon and bursting in. Caspian is the first to reach him, apologizing whilst sobbing. Aemond wastes no time in pulling him in, followed by Rhaenyra who shoves her face in his chest. He kisses her head, trying to move to you but the two kids are completely attached to him, it’s then he realizes that you weren’t moving to him…..you weren’t looking at him at all.

“Y/n? Little bird-” He says softly as you call Caspian and Rhaenyra back to your side. Both of them reluctantly let go, moving to step to you, when Aemond sees his son's eye.

He snatches his wrist tightly to bring him back, one hand one his collarbone the other gripping his cheek. “What. Happened.”

“Imsorry! Itriedtostopthemanditried-” Aemond couldn’t hear anything he said past the sorry, ears ringing as he inspects the damage. “IMSORRYPAPA!”

You pull Caspian back harshly to your side as he sobs, Rhaenyra already sobbing into your dress. “What is the news of our release?”

“Who did that to hi-”

“AEMOND WE HAVE BEEN LOCKED IN HERE FOR A WEEK AND THEY ARE SCARED!” The realization that they were still in the cell hit him and he nodded, reaching for Rhaenrya before she sobs and hides into you more. Your face is entirely turned away from him and both the children clutch onto you. His heart completely shatters, tears falling from his eyes as he stands up.

“Come. We need to get to the dragons.” It’s a command, and it takes everything in him not to let his voice break, moving back as his family slowly walks out of the wet dungeon cell. He places a hand, shaky as it was, on the upper part of your back as he grabs Caspians hand tightly.

“You need to take them to Vhagar, I shall go and grab the other two-”

“You can only fly one father!” Caspian says, tugging his hand. “I’ll grab Rhaes dragon. Mom and her go for Vhagar.”

You shake your head slightly, reaching for Caspian but Aemond grabs your hand softly, putting his forehead against yours softly. “Meet at dragonstone. I have him.”

He leaves a small kiss on your temple before you can pull away, the pain in his ribs loosening when he realizes that you hadn’t. You nod, gripping Rhaes hand as he leans down to kiss her temple as well. “Lets go.”

He keeps a hand on Caspian, keeping him clutched to his side as he makes his way through the halls.

“Cas… Close your eyes.” He commands, removing his hand as two guards storm up, he lands his sword through the throat of the first before swiping the head off the second.

When he turns to grab Caspian, hands covered in blood, he finds his son already staring at him with horror. “I….I t-told you to close your eyes.”

“You said eyes. I only have one.” The boy snipes, grabbing onto his fathers sleeve with shaky hands.

Aemond cracks a soft smile at that as he leads his son down the tunnels to the dragonpit, finding the two dragons in no time. “Get onto Myraxus.”

Though he orders his son to do it Aemond doesn’t let go, instead helping his son saddle.

“I know how to do it.” The boy snaps, tying the straps on his legs as Aemond does the other leg. “You’re the one that taught me.”

“Who did that to your eye?” His tone is flat, refusing to look at his son as he finishes the straps, his one eye watering at the image. “Tell me and I will take care of it.”

“Mother says you’ll get yourself killed.” Caspian cries. “I don’t want to be taken away from her and I will be if you die.”

“I’m not going to die, I simply want to know who maimed my son.”

“That will surely help.” Caspian spits, gripping the reins. “You acting like my father. Because the bastard title isn’t enough.”

“Cas-”

“Don’t you think I hear you? When you call my uncles bastards? Don’t you think I hear the disgust?! DON’T YOU THINK IM AS EMBARRASSED AS YOU?!”

Aemond has nothing else to say, a coward in a mans body, nothing more. He can’t look at his son as he orders the dragon to fly in Velaryon, saddling up onto his sons larger dragon and doing the same.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His half sister greets them at Dragonstone, standing out with her family as they watch the dragons land, and for a moment Aemond feels sick at how he treated her to begin with.

He feels your stare as he dismounts from the saddle, the pit in his stomach growing when you meet his gaze. Your eyes were red and puffy, the way you dismount slowly while gripping his daughter has his lungs aching.

He helps Caspian, only for his son to shove him off, the three of you walking ahead to see his sister.

“I received a raven right after the storm broke. We flew back here to greet you.” His sister says softly, reaching forward to grasp your hand. “Let’s get you inside. Jace, help your-”

But Aemond is already there, picking up his daughter and grabbing his sons hand before his nephew can move to them. A rush of panic claws up his throat when his son looks down and he rushes to fix his behavior.

“T-thank you….dear nephew.” He mutters, squeezing his sons shoulder as if to say ‘look! I love bastards! Don’t hate me!’

“I’ll show you to your rooms.” The silence of the family is terrifying.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They aren’t speaking, none of them are muttering a single word, but they stayed close. Rhaenyra sat in his lap as he brushed out her hair, tangled and knotted from the dungeons but she fought him when he tried to throw her in the bath. So this would have to do for now.

Caspian, although refusing to show the side of his face, sat near him. His son stared at the fire and kept his hands clenched, tears falling from his eye. Aemond desperately tried coming up with something to say to comfort him. Nothing came to mind.

Then you….. You haven’t spoken but you sat near as well, brushing your own hair.

The entire ordeal was terrifying and Aemond felt sick that he could not help. He was useless and pathetic and-

“They are going to kill us.” Caspian breaks the silence, his voice a mere whisper. “They are going to kill all of us like we are some boars on a hunt.”

“I will kill anyone that comes ne-”

“YOU WERENT THERE! AND YOU’RE THE ONE THAT FORCED ME TO TRAIN WITH THEM!” And here it was, something Aemond recognized so well. The anger of the blow.

“So it was your cousins?” He asks calmly, a little too calmly, not stopping the brush through Rhae’s hair. “They attacked you.”

“I…. I tried not to father, I swear it.”

“Your cousins attacked you and tore out your eye.” A statement, he had already figured it out. He was already figuring out what to do-

“Don’t.” You snap, his neck nearly breaking as he whips to look at you. “You are already scheming, I know that look. I married into that look.”

“An eye for an eye is the proper-”

“There are two men downstairs that prove that wrong.” You seethe, standing. He finds himself launching up to help you and you slap his hand.

“This family does not retaliate!”

“THEY TOOK OUR SONS EYE!” You glare at him, and an angry feeling passes through him as he steps forward. “Do not test me on this. Wife.”

Your hand splits across his face in an instant, the harsh whip has his hair flying and his hand reaching up to cover the spot. “You know…. You’ve never reminded me of him until now.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You bathed the children and yourself as Aemond paced the main room angrily, tears flowing freely as he thought about your words and what had happened.

You didn’t say anything as you led the children to bed, tucking them in before changing yourself. He stands there awkwardly before sitting on the settee in front of the fire, aching to be near all of you.

“Aemond.” You call, touching his forehead. “I have been calling you for a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, hand coming up to touch your wrist, kissing it softly which makes you smile. You lean down to kneel in front of him and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t apologize. Please don’t.”

“I’m not,” You snap, sitting between his legs and handing him a brush. “You owe me.”

“Right.” He chuckles, grabbing the brush. “How long were you in there?”

“A week. I had to fake a bleeding for your mother to send a raven.” You say softly, he feels your hand on his calf, hugging his leg closer. “I…..Well I….”

“You?” He prods, leaning forward to bend down and look at your face.

“I did what was expected of me.” You defend, a heated tone. Where had he heard those words before……. “I went for his eye.”

Pride fills his entire being as he smiles, grasping your cheek and kissing your face all over.

“Aemond!”

“Here I thought you thought of me as a monster and you…..” He was launching to kneel in front of you, both of you on the floor. “You defended Caspian.”

“They took his eye.” You mutter, hand reaching up to touch his face. “I would have done it for you too.”

“You make me weak.” He mutters, pushing so that he can lay you down on the carpet, laying above you and pressing his ear to your chest. “You all make me weak, and I have no clue what I am doing.”

“No one does.” It’s quiet after that, him just listening to your heartbeat and trying to catch his breath while you begin falling asleep.

“Did…..did you get it?” He whispers softly, stirring you from your sleep.

“I took that fuckers throat.” You mumble and he smiles, getting off you and walking with you to the bed your children slept in.

You help him remove his leathers and tunic, holding his hand as you crawl into bed with the kids, pulling them close.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He awakes to the sound of humming, and when he crack his eye open he finds his daughter sitting near him and braiding his hair.

“What is my baby bird doing?” He asks gently, reaching to pull her down and lay with him, hugging her close when she giggles.

“Mother said not to wake you, said that Auntie Rhae said you never sleep.” She snitches, turning to tug his hair. “How come I have a bed time and you do not?”

“Because I’m old.”

“You look old.” She states before a cry of pain fills the room. Aemond is launching up to grab his sword, running to the main room to find you cleaning the wound left on your son.

“Here…” He sighs, moving to help. “I know what to do.”

Caspian doesn’t say anything when Aemond grabs his jaw gently to clean the wound, instead the boy sneers.

“I met your mother when she was already married.” Aemond admits, cleaning the dried blood. “And I was a terrible man who dishonored her.”

“You-”

“And she had my babe.” He says sharply. “And you are my son. Whatever I have said about the strong boys in the past comes from anger, for I have been missing an eye all my life because of them.”

“They took your eye?” He whispers.

“They did. But that doesn’t matter now. I swore my sword to them, I swore my for you. Because you are my son and your mother is my love and I needed you in my life.” His words come out strong, but Aemond felt pathetic having to say the next few. “I became a traitor because I was selfish and did not want to lose either of you.”

“Father.” Caspian stops him, shaking his head. “I’m a bastard and-”

“You. Are. A. Targaryen.” He seethes, kissing his sons temple. “And before I swore my sword to anyone I swore myself to your mother and yourself. That is my oath.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I am a traitor and you paid for my mistake. But I beg of you… don’t think wrongly of me-”

“I don’t.” Caspian admits.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next week they all stay close, never really speaking on what comes next. Not until he sits with you in the bath. He kisses down your back softly, arms wrapped around you to keep you close as he does so, nipping at the back of your neck.

“What now?” You whisper, turning back to look at him. “What comes next?”

“We focus on the babe.” As he says it he reaches a hand down to feel your stomach. “Nothing else but our kids.”

“I said we don’t retaliate.” You mutter.

“And I will listen-”

“I want their heads.” You interrupt, finally turning to look at him. “I. Want. Their. Heads.”

He smiles slowly, rubbing up your stomach, past your breasts to lightly touch your jaw. “Remember what I said?’

“Whatever your blood wants….”

“My blood gets.” He nods, pulling you in for a heated kiss. You grunt, pulling back to spin in the tub so you were facing him. The second your settled on his lap he leans his back on the tub, arms sitting on the sides of the tub.

“I feel bad asking-”

“The only reason it hasn’t been done already is because I wanted to stay here.” He smirks, hand pulling you in for a kiss. You nip at his lip which has him grunting and pulling you in more.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp out when you pull back and he feels a jab in his chest.

“I already said not to apologize.” He whispers, rubbing your cheeks, his ringed thumb slipping between your lips. You nip at it softly before grabbing his jaw.

“I owe you an apology. Because I treated you unfairly.” You say harshly, kissing along his face. “You have done everything you can for this family. What happened while you were gone is not your fault.”

“Y/n…” He moans, feeling you get closer to his member.

“I love you.” You mutter, sinking onto his slowly making him throw his head back with a groan. “And I know we make you weak. Because you love us-”

“I do.” He groans, hands flying to your hips as you begin to move.

“Tell me.” You smile, biting at his collarbone.

“You make me weak.” He moans, trying to catch your lips, growling when you don’t let him. “You make me want to kill everyone who is a danger to you.”

“Yeah?” You moan, beginning to circle your hips faster.

“I will split their tongues from their heads,” He continues, grinning as you moan at his words. “I will kill each and every last one of them.”

You moan, louder this time, and he takes control. Gripping the sides of the tub to lift you until you were underneath him. Water was sloshing from the tub as he began thrusting, letting you bite into his shoulder to hold the moans in as he kept grunting.

“I’ll start with my brother. I’ll cut his head clean off.” He smiles, hand going to your neck and softly squeezing. “Then I will kill my grandfather, chopping off his hands.”

“My king…” And then he is gone. He is moaning out as you both cum together, gripping the sides of the tub harshly as you lean up to kiss his scar. “I want to learn..”

“Learn what?”

“I want to learn to fight.” You whisper and he smiles.

“I’ll do you one better.” He smiles, pulling the back of your head to attach your lips. “You’re going to learn to ride a dragon.”

(LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT MORE! REQUESTS ARE OPEN)

AEMOND TAGLIST

@Schniiipsel

@Sluttyaemond

@Lovelynerdytraveler

@Rosaryos

@Bbyhangman

@Winxschester

@Neenieweenie

@anthonys-viscountess

@Ggglitch-exe

@Shnadaidas

@Gaisse-blog

@Dudfahsn

@Afro-hispwriter

@Ghosstbb

@Nerdy4itall

@Gawabby

@Abrielleholland

@Chevyharvelle

@Gloryekaterina

@Immyowndefender

@Ichanelvxgue

@Dangerousbluebirdpoetry

@Destroyingdestiny

@Minaxcarter

@Lawlerek

@Tivedetek4869

@Shawin02

@Maplumebleue-blog-blog

@Applepyesworld

@Solacestyles

@Xinsonyax

@Crazylokonugget

@Mrswhitethornbelikov

@Yu3kkii

@Mell-bell

@Justsumtuffstuff

@Icarusignite

@Nellanottevedote

@Princessmiaelicia

@Ciaraguy9

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #House of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

AEMOND POV

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st, somnophillia, cum eating, oral (F receiving), stalking, creepy behaviour, thoughts of violence and manipulation. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Thoughts of manipulation and hurt, violence and assault. Obsessive themes and possessiveness.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: AEMOND!POV, Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Word count: 6k

Note: We made it... We finally have the Dark!Aemond POV from the night of the celebrations, chapters 18 and 19. I hope you enjoy it! <3 Thank you as always for the love

AEMOND POV: Chapters 18 and 19

It was no mystery as to where you would have gone, nor where you would likely be found, desperately trying to seek comfort, or calm your rising rage.

You had always done so as a child.

He remembered the temper you had always had. The anger that came as quick as the lash of a whip. As a child you had battled to keep it at bay, to contain your out bursts, but as you got older, he had watched you learn to contain it, and channel it in a way that would be useful to you.

A cunning rage was a dangerous one.

There were very few places he could always find you.

The Godswood.

The Library.

The Gardens.

Aemond let himself walk silently, as he always did, as he had learnt to do from a young age to escape his brother and nephews, until he found himself standing not too far behind you, watching you gaze out at the ocean, the sun slowly setting.

You were not aware of his presence and so he took advantage of that. He looked at the slope of your back as you leant forward lazily. He noticed the curve of your hips, and thought how perfect it would be to slide up behind you, lock you between his arms and kiss softly against your neck.

How he would thrust into you from behind.

How you would push back against him, sticking out the round flesh of your ass as he smacked his hips up against it.

He thought of how beautiful you would look, moaning in front of him, hair wild, and lips parted as your cunt pulsed around him.

How the reflection of the skies colour would bounce off of the ocean and into your eyes, making the purple dance, as you would weep onto his cock from your cunt.

He knew he would make you happy.

He knew he could.

He could bring you pleasure like nothing that you had ever felt before. He would make men and women bow to you if you asked him to, he would relieve mens heads from their shoulders if you even so suggested it.

He would do anything for you.

Anything, but let you go.

“The feast will be served soon.”

Aemond watched in delight as you jumped, then relaxed into an annoyed bored state.

"Must you always lurk about in the shadows?" You had grunted.

You don’t even know how much I do.

How much I had to.

How much your brothers and mine made me.

How when we were once young, I had hidden in the shadows often, just to be in your presence.

"Their voyage had been long and terrible, it must be remembered. More than a hundred ships, since its flight, had foundered and sank.” He had spoken, cutting through the silence, thoughts racing away from him.

You looked at him.

He noticed that you appeared shocked that he had remembered, and almost sad that he had. Like it was a memory that made you ache, that made you think of him as the boy he once was, and not the man he was made to be.

But this man could be good for you.

"Others had drifted away, never to be seen again.”

“Ten Thousand Ships.”

“Do you remember when we were children?” He hummed, watching as you visibly stiffened, and then relaxed, your eyes looking more sullen than before.

“Yes.” You had replied.

That was all, just a simple yes and nothing more.

No ‘Yes, I remember how terrible it was for you.’

No ‘Yes, I remember the bond we once shared.’

No ‘Yes, I remember abandoning you.’

No outright admission of guilt really, but an admission to all of the above.

“I remember it all.” He spoke, as you reluctantly walked beside him in the garden, no poison dripping from your tongue, your shoulders soft with guilt, or shame, or sorrow, or the sadness that comes with reminiscing in the years past.

“Your brothers and Aegon would torment me. But not you, and not Helaena.” He reminisced.

Not even when he was presented with a pig. Not even when he had cried, nor when he would sniffle, and go quiet at their bullying. Not once when he had shied away from the touch of the other boys and instead leant into you, did you ever mock him nor chastise him for it.

Even when he was cruel to you in anger, even when he would snap at you. Even when his mother had told him that you were a threat to his life because of your mother, and so subsequently he turned his vitriol towards you alongside his older brother.

Not even then would you torment him.

Instead you would let him snip, and snap, and snarl at you. Call you bastard, push you, pinch you and mock you with his brother, and occasionally your own, and he would watch as you would let it roll off of your back like a duck with water.

You would stare at him with this face, a ‘Are you done now?’. A face where you knew that he did not mean it, and was waiting for him to settle and come back to you.

But you no longer held that space for him. Instead, all that graciousness, and patience, and kindness had disappeared, never to be seen again.

“I would listen to you read at the Godswood.” He said.

And your oh so readable face let him know.

You knew.

“You could have been cruel.”

“I suppose I could have been.” You stared back, before turning and continuing to walk back.

It sounded as if you had wished you had been. Perhaps he would have deserved it. But that was not you, nor had it ever been you. You had always been so soft, so kind to him, and always so generous to the people around you.

So willing to sacrifice yourself for everyone . So willing to throw yourself into the fire, not caring for yourself or what it would do to you. You were oh so self destructive and it irked him. It made him want to teach you to be better. To do better.

Aemond wished he could change it.

And he made a promise to himself that he would.

You had walked together through the garden, and the subtle scents of the oils on your skin would occasionally waft with the breeze towards him, catching his attention through the smells of the flowers and trees surrounding the two of you.

He noted that he stood more than a foot taller than you, your head well below his shoulders. He towered over you, where as children you had been the same height. When you had left to Dragonstone, he had shot up, and grew taller than the brother who had always stood over him meanly.

You were so small.

So fragile beside him.

He could pick you up, and throw you down and fuck you if he wanted and there would be nothing that you could do about it. With his height, came his strength, and he knew that he would easily over power you. He could wrap one hand around your throat and engulf it entirely. He could squeeze your thighs tightly against him.

Everything about you was so small, that he knew if he took your your maidenhead, he would need to prepare you for his length and girth. He would have to gently stretch you open with his fingers, readying you for his length before he would plunge inside of you.

That was if, he had the patience. He could just thrust into, unprepared, and enjoy the sight of your maidenhead streaking his shaft as he would rut into you painfully.

If he pressed down on your lower stomach, would he be able to feel his length dragging in and out of you? Would he be able to see your stomach bulge with each thrust? Would you cry, and wail, and try to run away from it?

Or would you take it like a good girl?

Would you thank him for his seed?

His thoughts ran away from his as you walked side by side, so close to touch, yet so far away. For once, as you walked, you did not bicker, nor fight, nor growl, or snarl at each other.

It was oddly reminiscent of your childhood.

A low grunt came from ahead in the garden, and ever the curious and inquisitive thing you had always been, you kept forth in search of the noise, but that noise was unfortunately familiar to the young Prince, and as soon as the sound was heard, he knew what would be found.

A few paces away he saw his older brother fucking the throat of a servant girl brutally. Tears fell from her eyes, and Aemond wondered if the girl was on her knees by force or by choice.

Disgust and anger rolled through him as he watched his brother not even bother to tuck his cock back into his breaches at his discovery by him and their niece. Instead the oaf smiled lazily in a mocking manner towards the Princess. Your presence disappeared from beside him and he felt rage begin to boil inside of him.

“You disgrace us all.” He growled, storming forward towards his brother, who fumbled to place his still hard cock back into his pants.

A huffed laugh slipped from Aegon’s lips as he responded, “I'm sure you and our niece were having a lovely time like me.”

“Clean yourself up.” Aemond snarled.

How many times would he have to be his older brothers glorified keeper?

How many times would he be forced to witness his disgusting depravity? His carelessness? His blatant disrespect for his place in court, his importance in the family, his importance as a Prince?

“Maybe if you had your cock sucked, or fucked our sweet niece then maybe you wouldn’t be such a cunt.” Aegon snipped playfully, goading Aemond in a way that was oh too familiar.

Aemond lunged for Aegon, “You fucking cunt.” He sneered, hands reaching to grasp at the eldest Prince’s shirt in an attempt to wrangle him to the floor.

He thought of how he would pummel his face until black and blue. Beat upon the older mans face until it broke open and blood spilled, and his chest would still below him.

He loved his brother, he did.

But there was something about Aegon that made Aemond see red.

That was the thing about family.

You could hate them with such a passion, hate their entire being, and yet still hold a fierce love for them simply out of blood and duty. A love that came with years grown side by side, and having no one else but them.

Aegon wriggled out of his grip, laughing and smiling at his younger brother who towered over him as he began to run towards the direction in which you had went.

Aemond felt his stomach drop as he watched the short, wavy hair of his brother race away from him, weaving along the path drunkenly.

He was running to you.

Aemond chased after, feeling the anger guide him through the garden towards you.

Then there you were, not too far ahead, unaware of the danger that loomed behind you as Aegon bounded forward, feet pounding on the path. Aemond held his breath as Aegon got closer, and his hand twitched at his side where his blade would usually be.

But then Aegon kept forward, bumping into you, laughing as he looked back, watching Aemond visibly bristle at the contact before he kept forward, racing away back to the table, hands fumbling with his pants and shirt.

Aegon was a fool.

A drunken, stupid fool who would damn them all once placed on the Iron Throne. A fact they all knew was coming soon.

Everyone except Rhaenyra and her kin of course.

And then the anger came and the thoughts continued.

This was who was going to sit on the throne.

His drunken, whoring, stupid older brother who didn’t even want the throne.

Aemond would be cursed to serve as his keeper, and tasked with dealing with his brother, but he would because it was his blood. It was his brother, and he would not betray him.

He would perform his duty to the realm, and to his mother.

And you were none the wiser.

What an easy life you must have had when you ran away to Dragonstone.

What an easy life you must have had to have left him alone in the keep with his tormentor and absent father, cursed to bear the blows of the sins of his family. What an easy choice you must have had, to leave him alone and afraid, eye taken and face torn, as you stood beside your bastard brothers.

You were not guiltless in his suffering.

He stormed forward and grabbed the back of your neck, feeling your soft hair, and hearing your surprised gasp as he spun you around. Your uncle watched you, eyes wide, lips parted and chest rising and falling rapidly. He looked at how your hands came up to rest on his chest, such small hands pressing futily against him.

He could feel the heat of your body surround him, and the scent of you was suffocating. He wanted to drown in it, he wanted to be wrapped in it.

He needed it.

He needed you.

And it looked like you needed him too.

Your eyes dilated as you looked at him, violet eyes searching his face before they landed on his lips. He felt your gaze become heated, and the way your hands pressed against him had stopped pushing, and instead stilled to rest on him.

How your lips had parted, and chest rose and fell shallowly.

His hand clenched as he looked at you, thinking of taking you in the garden, just as Aegon had been doing.

And he could.

He was not wed, nor betrothed. He could take you if he wished. In the very garden where you had spent so many hours together, or moments where you did not know he was watching.

And so his hand tightened on your neck and brought you closer, losing all resolve, becoming more sure he would take you, right on the dirty ground, surrounded by flowers which held no flame to your beauty, nor competed with your heavenly scent.

Then the heavens opened, and he felt his heart soar as he heard a breathy, little whimper escape your lips. The tiniest of moans as he pulled you nearer.

Oh, she wants this.

You had run because you had wanted him to chase you. You had wanted him to show you that he was ready. That he would be devoted. That he would follow you across the realm if need be.

You wanted him.

You wanted him the same way he wanted you. He knew that now. You wanted him to chase you. You wanted him to take you as he wanted, he knew that now.

He leant forward, his lips gently brushing yours, feeling how soft and plush they were, and smelling the sweet scent of spiced wine in your mouth. Aemond had to hold back a moan.

And as you chased his lips he pulled back.

He wanted you to chase him now.

And you did.

Fuck.

You did, just as he had imagined a thousands times before, hand on his cock, tugging painfully. And here you were so willing, so excited, so pliant and desperate for his touch, and he was suddenly reminded of Aegon and he felt himself sour.

How Aegon would mock and tease him for this, how he would tell his mother to escape her chastising for his own debauchery. And how the image of Alicent, looking up at him angrily made him shrink back away from you.

She would undoubtedly be so ashamed of him.

The perfect second son.

Aemond had tried so young, for so long, to meet the unachievable. How her piercing eyes would look at him in disgust, and how angry she would be. She would no doubt make him pray in the Sept for forgiveness to the Seven.

Not that she hadn’t tried with Aegon, but even he had managed to soil the sanctity of the holy space, fucking an unsuspecting Holy Sister in waiting. She was never to be seen in the Sept again, nor in the walls of the Keep.

He had left you in the garden, wanting and waiting or him, and he forced himself to keep walking, not daring to look back at you, or turn on his heel, lest he rush up to you to press his lips to yours like his body so desperately craved to.

Aemond had sat back down in his seat, having readjusted himself as he had walked, and watched as you appeared a short while later, slinking over to your father where you drank and whispered to each other, Daemon’s eyes sliding over to his nephew on more than one occasion.

They were talking about him.

Aemond watched as you drained your cups, and your face blushed with the wine and the talk from your father, who doted on you than any of his other children, sired by him or not. It was clear to all who watched that he loved you greatly, fiercely, and was a great contender for your heart against Aemond.

And then Aegon hurled wine from the depths of his stomach and onto his shirt, and his one eyed brother got a sick sense of satisfaction at watching the table guffaw and laugh at him.

But when his lone eye looked at his mother, he felt anger and rage. She looked so sad, so disappointed, so disgusted in the eldest son and Aemond found himself becoming protective again.

How dare they laugh at my brother?

At their, unknown to them yet, future King.

The night continued and you drained your cups with the same vigour as a man returned from war would. He supposed you had all returned from a form of war, banished to Dragonstone after the events of that faithful night. Hidden away on a sulphuric smelling island, crawling with dragons, claimed and unclaimed.

Towards the end of the evening, where the men and women still laughed and danced, and their words and movements had become sloppier, Aemond watched as you too succumbed to the spiced Dornish wine, excusing yourself to your chambers to rest.

Did you want him to chase you now?

He had stirred in his seat, moving to stand. To follow you. Chase you like you desired him to. To hold you, and kiss you, and love you.

Or fuck you.

Whatever he felt was right. Whatever you succumbed to easier, but his movement had caught the eye of his mother who gave him a stern warning glance.

Stay.

And as the dutiful son he was, he stayed. Settling back down into his seat, reaching to fill his own cup with wine again. To pretend that it was your lips he tasted on his tongue. That it was the wine that had settled in your mouth from the evening, that he tasted.

Aemond barely spoke that evening, except to his grandfather and mother, and occasionally Helaena, who left not too long after you had retired to bed.

She would need the rest if Aegon was to be in their chambers waiting.

A dutiful lamb, leading herself to slaughter.

As was required.

Daemon’s eyes never left Aemond’s form. His gaze was heated, and not at all a welcoming one. The older man knew something, or sensed it. Aemond's uncle knew that his nephew had done something to his beloved daughter. That there was some sort of spark between the two, yet he could not figure it out.

We are in love.

We were meant to burn together, to be one together.

Aemond thought.

Lucerys left for his chambers, smirking smugly at his uncle, and Aemond thought of how easy it would be to feed the younger boy to Vhagar. How with one simple command, he could watch the young boy be engulfed in flames, or crushed between sharpened teeth.

And soon the table filtered out, and Aemond grew weary of performing for the realm, and so he excused himself to his chambers, where his feet carried him hurriedly, as his cock pressed painfully against the leather of his pants. He could not escape the feeling you had given him. Even when Aemond found himself laying on his own bed, cock in hand, bringing himself to release for the third time that evening, it still was not enough.

The One-Eyed Prince found himself in the same predicament that he had been in not too long ago.

You had ruined him.

Ruined his own pleasure.

Nothing that he could do would ever make him feel the way his fingers in your warm, wet heat did. Nothing could ever bring him to the same high that tasting your slick on his own fingers did.

Your taste.

Gods he was mad for it.

It was you.

All you.

A tart, muskiness that was so addictive, so alluring, that no other woman in the realm could possibly compare to it. No meal he could eat, nor most expensive wine in the realm could ever compare to the sheer ecstasy of you.

And that was how he found himself in your chambers once again.

He had snuck in, just as he had done before, and watched you.

At first he had thought your nightgown had slipped down your shoulders, and it wasn’t until you rolled over on the plush mattress, and the soft sheets of the bed were gently pulled down by the shift, that he realised you wore no bedclothes.

You were completely bare.

Waiting for him.

Aemond’s hands did not shake as he reached for your shoulder, touching you gently, waiting for any reaction. When none came, he felt emboldened, and let his fingers pull the blanket down from your shoulders, dragging it away from your body, leaving your naked form exposed to the air of the chambers.

Aemond let himself gaze at you. He looked at the way your face looked when asleep. So soft and gentle, soothed by the dreams you were having.

You looked content.

Your lips were so soft, no longer pulled into a stiff line like your fathers did, nor was your brow furrowed in frustration or anger. Your hair lay around you soft and tangled in the bed from your sleep.

Then his gaze went lower.

Your curves were soft, skin so smooth, that he let himself skim a finger down your side, watching as goosebumps erupted in its wake, and a small sigh escape your lips.

It only spurred him further.

Your breasts were just as he remembered, silken and perfect, nipples stiffening to the cool air of the room. Aemond leant over the bed, letting his weight rest upon it with one knee, watching as the mattress dipped and you still did not rouse from your dream.

He let his fingertips come up to graze underneath one of your breasts, trailing up to the stiffened peak where he rubbed a delicate finger over the top, watching in anticipation as you rolled onto your back, exposing your entire form to him.

His eye trailed down your body as he kept his finger swirling over your nipple softly, looking down to your tuft of hair leading to the reason he had entered your chambers in the first place.

“Zaldristos.” He whispered.

You still did not stir.

It didn't matter either way.

You didn't have to be conscious for what he was to do to you.

He didn't care.

And you wouldn't stop him.

The One-Eyed Prince let himself crawl onto the bed atop of you, smooth and silent as he always was, carefully settling his body atop you as he dipped his head to take a pert nipple into his mouth.

He quietly moaned as his tongue traced over the stiff peak, swirling around it and sucking, as a large hand came to frame the other. He gently squeezed as he framed your breast, closing his eye as he suckled upon your nipple.

Yet you still did not wake, and it made blood rush to his cock, making him painfully aroused.

He licked and suckled, and even nibbled at you, listening as you sighed beneath him dreamily, still asleep.

How perfect you were like this.

Letting him play with you.

Letting him have his way with you.

Soon, if he was to have his way, you would be his always. Every night he would have this, and every waking hour he would be determined to make you his. Whether with his cock pressed deep inside of you, or his seed growing in your womb.

Aemond let a determined hand slide down your body, gently rubbing against the hair atop your mound, before sliding a finger down between the crux of your legs.

You were wet.

He moaned loudly, letting his finger rub up and down on your bud, feeling himself grow more frantic with need. His head dipped down again taking the other nipple into his mouth, where his teeth bit down roughly. He licked at the nipple caught between his teeth, feeling you begin to squirm beneath him.

He could claim a thousand dragons, and it would have no power like claiming you.

Your uncle let your nipple fall from his mouth, as he gathered the wetness from your slit, back up to your pearl, rubbing it gently as he kissed against your neck, burying his head into the sweet scent of your flesh and hair.

Your stirred, and groaned, wriggling in his hold, and so he pulled back, slowing his movements on your bud as he shushed you back to sleep.

So obedient for him.

He was going to take his time, take it slow, work his way up to it, but he couldn’t wait any longer, and so the Targaryen Prince crawled down the bed, leaving a path of wet kisses and nibbles as he made his way down to the nectar he so desperately craved.

He kissed at your inner thighs softly, savouring the soft pillowy flesh that was now surrounding his head, before leaning forward to press a wet, lingering kiss upon your bud.

You were warm, and velvety, and smelt so addictive that he could scarcely pull himself away, and so instead his tongue peaked out from between his lips and took a long drag up your slit, collecting your wetness as he went, flicking the tip against your pearl.

Your slick spread across his tongue, causing the prince to loudly moan into the room before diving back in, no longer holding back as he began to lick long, determined stripes from your opening to your bud, feeling you begin to wriggle more beneath him.

“More.” Came your sleepy little whimper, mumbled and quiet. He would not have heard it if he hadn’t been listening out for your sounds.

But he was.

How could he not give you just as you had asked for?

Aemond pushed his tongue into your hole, licking the slick from where it had begun to leak from you, his pointed nose burying itself harshly into your sensitive bud.

He felt you tense on his tongue, and it only made him want more. He licked out your essence and felt his hardened member throb within his breachers.

A hand reached down to hastily untie his pants, pulling his long, thick cock from within, its tip leaking steadily from arousal at tasting your juices. Aemond wrapped a large hand around his shaft and sighed in relief as he began to rub it up and down, squeezing harshly as he reached the tip, feeling his fingers and palm wet with his pre-cum.

And then you groaned again as he kept licking at you, bringing himself pleasure with his own hand, and so with his other, he let a single finger come to rub up and down your slit, pulling his lips and tongue away from you to watch as he rubbed through your folds, swirling gently on your nub before pushing into your core slowly.

You were so tight, and so slick and hot, that Gods be damned, he swore himself to you. He watched in awe as he pulled his finger in and out of you, listening to the lewd, wet sound of it, as he tugged at his cock.

You were so perfect for him.

He started a steady pace as he lowered himself back down, tongue coming out to lick at your nub, hands working in tandem as he felt you writhe beneath his touch, softer whimpers and moans falling from your sleep addled lips.

He searched within to find that special rough patch that he had done the time before, until finally he found it, rubbing the tip of his finger against it as he suckled and licked at your pearl.

And then you had whined, and your tiny hands had grabbed at his hair, pulling him further into your cunt and Aemond felt he was about to come undone, his cock twitching in his hand as he increased his pace, before adding a second finger to meet the first.

You had whimpered and whined, shifting as he paid no mind to you, slowly stretching you out with his hand, until finally both fingers were snuggly inside of you, and your little fists were tugging his hair so hard that he knew that some hair would have been ripped out.

Good girl.

Aemond’s hand began to pick up the pace, desperate to bring you to release, to have you cum on his tongue so that he may lap at your release, and have it flood into his mouth, and down on his hand.

His pace got faster as he rubbed inside of you, mouth suckling at your wet heat, and other hand roughly tugging his cock as he brought himself near to his release.

He felt as though he may combust into flames. Every drag of his palm against himself made him sigh breathy moans into your cunt. He was engulfed in pleasure, high on your taste, and desperate for more.

It was suffocating.

“You taste so sweet, Zaldrītsos.” He cooed at you, as your fingers continued to tug at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you, and him to his release.

And then you were cumming, cunt fluttering around his fingers as he hurriedly dragged them in and out, enjoying the long whimpering moan you had released, and the ways your hands tightened in his hair.

He lapped at you like a mad man, groaning into your cunt as he tasting your release, your slick gliding on his tongue as he sucked at your folds, hand still fisted on his cock.

It was too much, too good.

Too addictive to stop.

And he felt himself begin to rapidly come to the precipice of his own release.

Aemond jerked up from the bed shuffling forward over you as he pulled at himself, hand leaving your cunt as your breathing evened.

He looked at your sleeping form, your face and hair, the way your legs were spread and how he could see the wet glistening from your cunt and thighs. Your uncle brought his wet fingers up to his mouth, dragging them across his tongue as he licked your essence from his fingers, groaning.

And that was all it took for Aemond reach his peak.

He let out a grunt as he came, hot white spurts of his seed, landing on your sleeping body below, the salty release landing hotly on your exposed cunt. The sight made his eye roll into the back of his head, as he kept his hand steadily working on himself, mouth wrapped around his digits.

And finally he found relief from the evening.

As he looked down at you, and saw his spend pooled atop your wet folds, pale globs of the sticky substance on your thighs and stomach, he could not help but drag a curious finger through the mess.

Aemond let his hand scoop the seed that had missed your slit, dragging them down to your parted folds were he rolled his cum slick fingers around your swollen bud.

You had jerked beneath him, a soft squeak leaving your lips as he rubbed him spend on your folds, delighting in how you looked beneath him, covered in him.

You were so beautiful like this.

Covered in his seed.

As you were made to do.

He committed the image to his memory before dipping his head down once more.

It would not do well to leave you in such a mess, and he had the sudden desire to clean you of it, to see what your combined releases would taste like.

And so Aemond laid back down on the bed, and began the slow, and gentle task of cleaning you up with his tongue. He licked a wide stripe up your slit, collecting your release and his own in his mouth, and let out a deep groan.

As soon as it hit his tongue he knew he was done for, and felt his cock begin to swell again beneath him. It tasted of his musk, and your familiar tang, and combined, it was the sweetest gift of all.

He needed more.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse

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backjustforberena · 2 months

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Hi! I've been reflecting on whether Corlys feels guilty about Rhaenys, especially considering how things were between them in their final days. Steve suggests that, even though Corlys doesn't openly admit it, he's aware that their relationship was falling apart and that he bears responsibility for it. This makes me wonder if Rhaenys' death, without having resolved their issues, leaves Corlys feeling guilty and perhaps blaming himself for not doing more. I find it hard to answer because Rhaenys is my favorite character, and I don't empathize with Corlys enough to understand his perspective. I'd love to hear someone else's thoughts on this.

Guilt wouldn't be the first word that springs to mind when I think about Corlys's thoughts on Rhaenys's death. The circumstances that led up to Rhaenys's death have nothing to do with him and it's no failure on his part or contribution on his part that led up to her death. He didn't let her down, he didn't make her go, he didn't have the power to stop her going and there's nothing within his ability that could have prevented her from dying in that battle. He couldn't have changed anything.

For me, his reaction to her death, such as we've seen it so far, is just because he's lost the love of his life and the last real pillar of his life. She was the reason for a lot of his motivations and his actions and happiness. I don't think it's any more complicated than that, and I don't think it needs to be. It's just devastating for him. It's destabilising. It's painful.

We don't know how Rhaenys and Corlys leave things between each other. A last scene between them, and a goodbye, is something we don't get from the episode and we have no information to inform us, concretely, what a goodbye might have looked like. The last on-screen words they speak to one another is the dock scene, with Alyn. But the last on-screen interaction are those Black Council meetings, where he shows up for her and sticks with her for at least a day or two, being by her side until Rhaenyra returns.

I no doubt think Corlys probably feels a lot of regret about the relationship. It's not ideal or what he wanted. It's certainly not what she wanted either. But so much of that fracture is that it's just beginning. To me, at least, it's like they haven't even started fighting: there's no hatred or fire or anger or any sense of cathartic exorcism from either party. They haven't been honest because both of them are deeply fragile and deeply vulnerable, and circumstances are (with the war and with various other factors) that they can't talk about it. They keep going on and turning away from each other because they think turning away from each other is going to maintain the strength or allow them to gain the strength needed to fight this war and then (possibly) tackle the issues. And it's also going to keep their partner from hurting.

It's not just Corlys's habits that are breaking them, though he is the major one at fault (especially with Alyn but honestly, that secret is so minor in the grand scheme of those four episodes, to me - it's not the root cause, it's just a contributing factor i.e Corlys's evasiveness and Rhaenys's walls). It's both of them not feeling able to rely on each other, for the sake of the other one.

Corlys has literally come back from the brink. He's broken, grieving and a bit lost, as well as physically depleted and unwell. Rhaenys cannot lean on him like she used to or like she might want to because she's too busy worrying about him and viewing him as fragile. He's got enough on his plate, you could say, and some of that is because she's convinced him to throw in their lot with this fight and so he's got the Fleet to muster and, now, an heir to mourn. So, she sucks it up. She looks after him, she looks after everyone, she puts her head down and gets on with the job of patrolling and going to council meetings and supporting Rhaenyra and she never actually says what she needs from him. She doesn't show him how much he's hurting because she loves him. Oh, the irony.

Meanwhile, Corlys knows he's mucked up. He knows he's less than the man she deserves (which he is consistently reminded of thanks to Alyn's proximity), and less than able to be what she needs. He knows that he's an invalid. He knows that he left for six years and she's had to be incredibly strong. He knows that he's not good at facing death and yet is having to, possibly for the first time, really mourn and stick with it rather than running away. Even on a practical sense, what Rhaenys needs right now is a pillar of strength, an asset in the war, a warrior and the Fleet to be in top condition. Meeting her practical needs is far easier for Corlys to grasp so he looks to building his Fleet back up, he shows up to that Black Council, he holds her and reassures her that he's feeling better etc etc.

But he's pulling away because he doesn't want to be found lacking. He hasn't got answers to questions she wants to put to bed (like about heirs) and he doesn't want to contemplate any more death and see her struggle and see her worry. I think he absolutely sees that she's carrying so much and the easiest way for him to reconcile that is to try and NOT be something else for her to carry. And that means evading her, in case she spies that vulnerability and thinks she can't rely on him. Which... doesn't work because he is just pulling away from her!

I think Corlys thinks they have more time. I genuinely think that he was expecting some point (and it may have been just there, right before she dies, when he shows up for her), when he's physically recovered and his ships is all fixed and he's feeling himself again, at which he'd be able to take it all on. Everything with Rhaenys and for Rhaenys. Where he'd feel strong enough and steady enough and healthy enough and tough enough to be what she needed. To earn her. Be worthy of the love that she does give him, and show the love that he has for her in a way that is constructive enough to heal a rift that's just starting to widen.

The problem with being someone's rock is that you can't be someone's rock if you're not feeling rock-steady. And neither Corlys or Rhaenys were feeling rock-steady, and their partner knew it.

So, going back to your original ask, I don't think Corlys feels guilt, specifically. I think he just feels loss. And regret that they didn't have more time. And a sense of the unfairness of it all. I don't think it's any more nuanced than that.

#house of the dragon #corlys velaryon #rhaenys x corlys

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maidragoste · 1 year

Note

Hi love! Just my 5 cents in

I feel like there’s going to be a shift in their relationship when maybe Aelor gets accused of something and Baelon stands up for him, that can definitely be a bridge to start a new stronger relationship with each other. And it also surprises the reader because she realizes the duality of him instead of seeing the Daemon side of him. Like with the way Baelon starts to stand up for Aelor (even threatening using dragonfire) he sees HER Jace and it just breaks her cause one of her more haunting gut wrenching ghosts FINALLY shows up and she sees that Baelon is not the Rhaenyra/Daemon thing that angered her all of those years ago and also with this realizes she’s been putting the anger that she had towards them onto Baelon.

The mental breakdown the reader would have when she’s pondering and she sees Baelon walking the hallways and within the gaps of shade and sun by the collum foundations of the castle as he walks in the shadows she would see Daemon and in the light she would see Jace, would be INSANE.

I wonder what Aemond would think if Baelon and Alyssa were to say that they will go with thier dragons and be never seen again and also the readers reaction to Aemond being like “They’re going to do what we couldn’t, why can’t you accept they fell in love like we did? I’m not losing my son and daughter Y/N, I won’t have it”

And when Aemond gives dark sister to Baelon OOOFF

OKAY ANON, THIS IS INSANE. THE ONE WHO IS HAVING A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IS ME. "HER JACE" DESTROYED ME 😭😭

Jacaerys is the one Reader loved the most, he is the one she misses the most and continues to cry for him. Honestly I always thought that Reader saw traces of Jace in Aemon but then she sees Baelon defending Aelor and suddenly she realizes that he has Jace stuff too. As you say, she has a breakdown and she doesn't quite know what to think. She begins to see Baelon with different eyes, she tries to give him the benefit of the doubt instead of getting angry at any problem. She sometimes still sees the Daemon in him but she forces herself to focus on the good parts, on Jace.

About Baelon and Alyssa, I can see they try to defend themself from Reader's fury by saying "Father and you got married in secret too. You can't be mad at us for doing the same. Uncle Egg and Aunt Jaehaera did too and you didn't make this scandal "

Aemond wouldn't let his children go, he would definitely have the dragons chained in Dragon's Pit so they couldn't leave. In this fight he is on the side of his children so he confronts Reader.

"They are right. You can't be mad at them, you would be a hypocrite because we did the same"

"Can't you see it? That's exactly the problem. We raise them expecting them to be better than us and they make the same mistakes we do."

Your words were like a slap to Aemond.

"Was our marriage a mistake?" he questioned, still unable to believe what you just said. All these years together, and you always thought that way about the two of you?

"Aemond, I love you and you know it, if I didn't love you then I wouldn't have married you." Aemond knew that you weren't lying to him, he could see the love in your eyes, it was impossible to fake that kind of love but even so your words hurt him. "But we were selfish doing it. We knew that sooner or later there would be a war, we knew that our marriages were important because we could get allies for our families but we didn't care… Just like Baelon and Alyssa didn't care about putting at risk our relationship with the North. Now my sweet girl has to pay the consequences!" you burst into tears and Aemond hugged you tightly, it also hurt him to think of Daella going to the North. He sensed that your anger was also related to the future departure of your baby. "We should have sent Alyssa North as soon as she was born!"

Reader and Egg having Daemon's flashbacks when they see Baelon using the sword 😭😭

Anyway anon, I really loved reading your thoughts. I hope to hear from you again soon and that you are well 🥰🥰💖💖

btw, next time you can choose an emoji so I know who you are

#lu speaks #the queen and her husbands #hotd x reader #anon <3 #anon ask #thanks for the ask!#ask me anything #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #oc: baelon targaryen

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flowerisevil · 2 years

Text

I think I'll miss you forever | Villain- FemOC Hightower x Harwin Strong

a/n: slant words means flashbacks. this is so short also I made this last night so im sorry if its bad and has a lot of errors

warning: evil OC, mention of daggers

summary: the memories of her will always remain in his heart no matter what happen.

Her smile is everything to him, her perfect lips and teeth, her rosy cheeks, and her eyes that perfectly syncs with her smiles.

He loves how she appreciate small things like it's a very big deal, he loves how kind and open minded she is, how she would always looked on the positive side.

"I want to have a life with you, Harwin" Cassandra told him and caress his face, his beautiful and perfect face.

"Me too darling, and we will gonna build our own family soon" he embraces her in his arms. It was so peaceful that night just them, under the stars feeling the comfort in each other. He was at peace that time he wishes they could stay like that forever, but they couldn't.

"We can just run away" Cassandra told him, her sister just told her their plan of taking the throne away from Harwin's vowed princess Rhaenyra.

"It's not easy Cassandra, I vowed to the Princess as her and her sons sworn protector" He said, Cassandra understand him he and his father have been serving the King and it's family for so long.

Cassandra agreed that they should stay in the Keep as time goes by the heat between Rhaenyra and Alicent grew stronger.

One night the Queen finds out about her sister's affair with the knight on the other team.

"For God sake he's only using you!" Alicent shouts at her.

"I didn't tell him anything Alicent" she lied, she did tell him her sister planned but he promised he wouldn't tell to anyone or she thought so.

"How am I suppose to believe you when you hide this all from me?" Alicent fired back.

"I hid it from you because I don't want us to get involve with you fights" she cried out, all she want is a peaceful life but her sister wouldn't even let her to have it.

"Cassandra don't be a fool, he clearly doesn't feel the same way for you, he doesn't love you" Alicent rubbed both side of her arm.

She frowned "How can you say that? You don't even know him"

"He's been seen by many servants going inside Rhaenyra's chamber alone and leaving the next day" Alicent said.

Cassandra didn't believe her "Don't say such things Alicent stop lying!" she said and leave her chambers.

She looked for Harwin and saw him outside the castle near the lake she went to him and hugged him tight, Harwin smile as she felt her presence.

"My love" Harwin trail and turned to see her, her eyes are watery.

"You didn't betray me right?" Cassandra asked, Harwin was confused at first but still answered.

"Of course and I would never" he's too inlove with her to hurt her or betray her, he wonder what happened to her and she thought of that.

That was enough for her to feel relief her sister is just manipulating her.

"Hey I love you, okay? you should know that" Harwin said and kissed her forehead.

She nod and smile her eyes disappear because of her wide smile, she kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you, and I will always will" Cassandra said as they leaned into each other forehead.

"No lies can separate us, no one can ever separate us" Cassandra added.

At that time Harwin was at his happiest the assurance that he will have her for eternity, that strong unbendable love they have for each other, he wanted to stay like that forever. He wished that nothing can ever make them turned against at each other.

But sadly not all wished came true.

She's staring in his eyes she used to look at him like that with pure love but now it's different it's anger that's looking in him.

"Stay back" she said in a monotone and pushed him away, Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon and The Queen's children fought causing to Aemond loss of his eyes in exchange the Queen ordered Ser Criston to took an eye from one of Rhaenyra's son when The King stopped her Alicent try to do it herself, Harwin tried to stop the Queen only for Cassandra to block and stop him.

He stared into her, he can no longer see the woman he once love in her. She's a whole different person.

Cassandra smirked and suddenly she disappeared in the crowd someone screamed from behind and they all turned around to see Cassandra held Lucerys hostage.

"There's a debt to be paid, my nephew loss his eyes then so is your son's" After that she stabbed the prince's eye, everyone gasped and Rhaenyra screamed crying some knights tried to stop her but she threatened them to kill the boy if they went near them.

Harwin was in complete horror as he watched her, what happened to her? he almost cried as he watched her, she became the person she was afraid to be.

She tossed the boy back from her mother, the knights was about to get her when Criston stopped them, she gave the blooded dagger to her sister.

"An eye for an eye" Cassandra said and hugged her sister.

He don't understand or recognize her anymore, she's not Cassandra that he loved, she's not the same woman who promise to him that she will never let a lie separate them, she did believe the lie Alicent invented.

A tears form in his eyes as they both looked at each other eyes locking. No stain of regrets or any emotion was plastered in her face.

That's the night he knew that he have already lost her, the love of his life is now gone and replaced by an unrecognizable new persona.

He wouldn't lie he still love her no matter what happen he will always lover her but he can never understand all of her bad doings perhaps the memories of her will always remain in his heart no matter what happen.

#harwin strong x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #fanfic #harwin strong imagine #harwin strong #ser harwin #daemon targaryen x reader #harwin breakbones #criston cole x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen imagine #rhaenyra targaryen

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thesilverlady · 1 year

Note

Hey, I've seen you say that you have a lot of opinions on episode 4 and 7 I think of HOTD and on how Daemon and Rhaenyra have been butchered, so if you feel like sharing someday I would love to read it!

high chance this is gonna be a long reply so this is a warning ⚠ Also small disclaimer: because I know how defensive ppl are over daemyra, this is my opinion and me not liking something everyone else loves isn't the end of the world.

So, 4 and 7 are the episodes I hate the most from hotd and while they definitely killed daemyra for me I have multiple reasons why I especially dislike those two episodes however, I'll keep my reply daemyra centered. I'll begin by summarizing the episode and then making a small list

Episode 4

As it has been established, show Rhaenyra is different from the start. For what is worth I gave the show a fair chance and didn't originally compare it to the book because I already had it seperate in my mind.

so while I won't complain about Rhaenyra bring different from her book self. i will say that her character is already inconsistent by episode 4. Rhaenyra acts very immature for someone in her position. It has been established that she feels very insecure about her position because she's uncertain if anyone else will accept her as a queen, but is willing and eager to create a "new order".

So, for someone who is supposed to be all that she's very much uninterested and dismissive of all these men and what they have to offer. She already seems tired and fed up with the politics and the caging feeling she gets with the obligation that she has to marry.

Rhaenyra doesn't want to get married. To Alicent she explains that the men only want her name and her Valyrian blood and to Daemon she reveals there's fear for childbirth due to what happened to her mother - to which Daemon tells her not to live a life of fear (unhelpful but OK)

Later that night, Rhaenyra finds a scroll of parchment with instructions leading her to a secret exit, and cloaked in a commoner's garb, the secret path leads her to Daemon, who escorts Rhaenyra out into the streets of King's Landing.

There, Rhaenyra seems very much in awe of the night life but is quickly angered and hurt by a play that mocks her gender and status as future queen.

"Would she make a powerful queen or would she be feeble? Aegon the babe prince might long proclaim, he has two things Rhaenyra cannot: A conqueror's name and a cock."

After some walking and chasing, Rhaenyra finds herself in some very public brothel where she's touched by daemon and excitedly she returns the feeling. Daemon however quickly ditches her half naked and a shaken Rhaenyra has to return back alone.

When Rhaenyra sneaks back into her quarters Criston Cole hears her and boldly she invites him inside to which after some hesitation from this part, finally accepts and they end up sleeping together.

In the next morning, Otto tells Viserys about Daemon & Rhaenyra being seen at a pleasure house together to which Alicent hears and later interrogates Rhaenyra about who in turn lies about the events of the night.

Meanwhile a hungover Daemon stumbles into the Red Keep, where he's taken to Viserys who demands to know what happened. Where Rhaenyra lied about Daemon never touching her, Daemon lies about going further than they actually did.

Viserys complains about Daemon having "defiled" his daughter, and that he should disinherit Rhaenyra like he already did Daemon.

Daemon asks him to let her marry Rhaenyra and is accused for doing all this for the throne. He eventually gets banished - again.

Afterwards, Viserys deals with Rhaenyra, giving her the bs about the prophecy and she complains once more about the unfairness of her gender and how her desires wouldn't be a problem if she were a man.

Viserys declares, she's lost the right to choose her own suitor so instead, she'll marry Laenor Velaryon. Rhaenyra, ever the "savvy politician", strikes a bargain she'll do if if he fires Otto - to which he does.

So how were Rhaenyra & Daemon butchered in ep4?

Rhaenyra is very keen to unshackle herself from the burdens of royalty. And for all the talk she did about wanting to make changes in previous episodes she's unwilling to use her status because she's too busy viewing it as a burden

Aside immature this makes her quite unintelligent, because while her fears are valid she never does a single thing to work on them

Rhaenyra (an i assume 19?yr) princess and heir to the throne doesn't have any concern with disguising herself poorly and risking her reputation for a night if "fun & freedom"

While angered by the play, Rhaenyra still dismissed it "Their wants are of no consequence"

Rhaenyra doesn't immediately bolt when she's brought in a brothel where daemon starts doing his thing. Her face is visible to be seen by everyone but the thought doesn't cross her mind.

Despite daemon leaving her hurt her feelings, Rhaneyra has no problem in inviting Criston - a man who we hardly saw her having feelings for - in her bed and sleeping with him as a part of "claiming freedom"

The next morning Rhaenyra sells her actual freedom to get Otto fucking Hightower fired 💀

Conclusion: this episode showed Rhaenyra having 0 self awareness. Her immaturity and naivety can be contributed to her young age but 19 years is already adult for Westeros standards so I can't give her a lot of pass. This episode is supposed to show Rhaenyra acting out her heart and having to deal with the consequences through political scheming. Instead she came off as someone who doesn't understand her position and advantage and doesn't give much concern over the public opinion and image despite few episodes ago this being one of the things she was worried about.

To add, the whole "freedom" came off as very awkward and tone deaf. I've mentioned in the past that hotd uses psedo feminism to come off as deep and this was a great example of that. The episode played as if Rhaenyra was some imprisoned princess who was treated as a second class citizen. Hotd timeline isn't that far from the conquest. Targaryen women lost power after Rhaenyra lost the war not before. So lots of her treatment makes 0 sense even for hotd version standards.

And to top it off, she sacrifices everything to get rid of Otto Hightower 🤦🏻‍♀️

Now for Daemon:

His dynamic with Viserys is very much changed due to the show erasing his story with Mysaria. As a consequence, when he returns he seems very... loving even to Viserys

He doesn't voice much about the play that basically insults his niece other than a quick "the peasants' opinion are important" when Rhaenyra dismisses them.

Daemon's braincells don't work much in this episode because he takes his niece in a public pleasure house and starts addressing her and touching her in front of everyone

Then for whatever reason, he pushes her and leaves her all alone in an unfamiliar place she has never been before.

When confronted by his brother daemon lies about having slept with Rhaenyra and asks Viserys to marry her

Conclusion: some of these parts had been rumors from mushroom in f&b so while it's not shocking they were written, it doesn't make sense for daemon's characterization in the show. First of all, Daemon makes so many dumb decisions in this ep that it's painful. Since the dynamic with his brother is warmer and he's received way more warmly by Viserys there's absolutely no reason for him to lie about taking Rhaneyra's virginity. All he had to do was off his wife and then ask for Rhaneyra's hand. The end

We never get any actual reason as to why he abandoned her like that in the brothel and why he took her there in the first place. We only have fan theories which makes the entire act so poorly executed. Due to Viserys parting words the most popular assumption was for the crown. However while I'm a big advocate for book daemon wanting the throne, show daemon doesn't seem much ambitious. His whole character centers around his brother and niece and yearning for their love and sense of belonging

He comes off as very idiotic instead of reckless due to his actions, not to mention very hot&cold with how he deals with Rhaenyra

episode 7

I definitely went too far with the length so I'll attempt to keep this summary as short as possible.

basically Lana's funeral happens. An unsettled Rhaenyra is visibly uncomfortable by the words spoken by Vaemond, and so Daemon bursts laughing during his wife's funeral - assumingly to take the attention off his niece

The two meet again late at night where they walk down the beach. Rhaenyra admits there was no joy with Laenor but she found some with Harwin. She bemoans Daemon for abandoning her and he retorts that he was trying to protect her. They kiss and have sex.

The eye incident happen, Alicent attacks Rhaenyra and slashes her arm. Later she’s patched up by a maester and speaks to Laenor who admits he’s failed them and bemoans the Gods for making him the way he is. Rhaenyra calls him an honorable man with a good heart. Afterward she approaches Daemon and suggests they strengthen their bond together properly by marrying one another and plot Laenor's (fake) death.

so what do I dislike here?

I've mentioned before that young and older rhaenyra are too different and there was never any transition that could connect their different personalities. In this one Rhaenyra is more doubtful and fearful than ever and doesn't try to hide it. Whereas she was bold and impulsive in her youth here she's meek and trying to convince herself as much as she does for her children

daemon's character is obligated to center around rhaenyra and Viserys so his relationship with Laena was portrayed as badly as possibly to the point he'd rather clown himself during his dead wife's eulogy 💀

daemon's non existent braincells have made a comeback because once again he chooses to have sex with his niece in the most public place possible. Rhaenyra who is supposed to be used to hiding her affair also follows and does this with no second thought.

daemon is a liar for claiming he was trying to protect Rhaenyra because she was a "child" because his dead wife was waay younger than her in the show but he married her anyways. So is only Rhaenyra given this "child status"?

Rhaenyra allows Alicent to make snarky comments about her and Laenor without defending herself much. Mind you all of this happening in front of people so.... I guess older rhaenyra still doesn't care what everyone else thinks?

daemon sees his two daughters with blood and opts to "enjoy the show" instead of rushing by their side. Show daemon never beats the deadbeat dad allegations I fear

Rhaenyra is slashed by Alicent and neither she not anyone else makes a big dead about it. Small reminder she's still the heir to the Iron Throne btw

Rhaenyra straight up lies to Laenor and us (the audience) by claiming he was a "good man" when an episode ago we saw how he didn't give a fuck about the troubles rhaenyra had. Just become he escorted her after she gave birth doesn't mean anything? At this point I'm 99% the writers were just afraid of writing him as a flawed man out of fear of being called homophobic

Which bring me to the next point, Daemon and Rhaenyra decide to risk it all and fake Laenor's death - making any future kids they'll have together bastards, because they suddenly develop some newfound interest for Laenor and his happy ending

Both of their children look miserable af but neither have a care for the world and proceed to go along with the wedding ceremony.

I don't think I really need to conclude this but basically, both of them act dumb, maybe the exact same mistakes without having learnt anything from the past, show little to no care for their kids, while trying to scheme around but without spilling any blood because they're must be on the high moral horse.

I spent 2 hours writing this so I'm sorry if this is all over the place. When I use the word "butchering" It's usually relating to how the character were changed from the canon selves. But even if I seperate hotd as its own thing, the character are still inconsistent and don't seem to follow the rules of the worldbuilding they're supposed to live on

#ask reply #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #again this is only for their show version I love daemon & rhaenyra and their relationship in f&b #again if you like their show version you do you but my feelings are very clear on the subject #anti hotd

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