#aegon ii targaryen fan fiction

[emilykaldwen]

Lost | Aegon x OC | Modern!AU | NSFW

Rating: Explicit (oral sex, f receiving. fingering, girl on top, mild breeding kink, mild dirty talk, lots of feelings and thunderstorms) Pairing: Aegon x Abrogail Strong

Summary: Lightning streaks across the sky and he pauses, knees bumping at the edge of the bed. It illuminates her features, and her eyes are large in her thin face, cheeks streaked with tears. There’s an aching in his chest and he immediately crawls across the covers into her waiting arms, draws her into him and drags his mouth against her cheeks. She whimpers at the touch, trembles against him in time with the thunder and he tastes salt on his mouth.

Notes: Unbeta'd! @vampire-exgirlfriend had sent me a prompt for some southern gothic!Abrogon which has been a little AU world I've been playing in. This is a repost, since I can't find my original post.

Follow @emkald-fic and subscribe for notifications or find me on AO3!

Tumblr Pinned Post

She doesn’t move at the sound of the window opening. Abby stays in her four poster bed, rolled over on her left side tucked under the covers and the lace curtains flutter in the breeze and the lazy spin of the ceiling fan.

“Are you awake?” Aegon asks, toeing off his boots from his perch on her window sill. The air smells of ozone, the storm rolling in and there’s a flash of light and he silently counts. One… two… three… the rumble of thunder answers and he rolls his shoulders with it, reaching back over his head to pull off his worn t-shirt.

She shifts beneath the pale pink blanket, her hair tied back in a ponytail but gives no other answer. He scratches his fingers across his bare chest, the fine blonde hair gathered there catching on his calloused fingers and reaches down to shuck his jeans off like he always does. The clink of the belt buckle echoes in the room and Abby shifts again, turns in her bed to face him.

Lightning streaks across the sky and he pauses, knees bumping at the edge of the bed. It illuminates her features, and her eyes are large in her thin face, cheeks streaked with tears. There’s an aching in his chest and he immediately crawls across the covers into her waiting arms, draws her into him and drags his mouth against her cheeks. She whimpers at the touch, trembles against him in time with the thunder and he tastes salt on his mouth. Comforting his girlfriend buck ass naked and half hard since he left his house twenty minutes ago thinking about her.

“What’s wrong?” he swipes his thumb along the apple of her cheeks, cups the softness of it. Softness that’s slowly been going away over the past few months since her dad got sick. The heart attack and the stroke, the way her shoulders bowed beneath the stress.

“Harwin.”

“What about him?” His brother in law. His girlfriend’s older brother, and Aegon wonders if they’ve achieved peak southern stereotype by having him be his brother in law on both sides. Eventually. When they get to that point where he can be the man Abby needs him to be. One who isn’t jobless and still living with his mom and flunked out of Tulane.

“He wants to move dad in with him and Nyra. Says I should come too. Finish out senior year in the city.”

The answer is immediate. “I’ll figure out how to get back into Tulane and you can live with me.”

“Aegon.”

“Or if that doesn’t work, I’ll move you into the big house.”

“Your mom wouldn’t allow it.”

Aegon makes a face. “She doesn’t have to know.”

That gets a wet laugh from her and it’s all he wants to hear. She says nothing except presses her wet face against his neck. His hand drops to her cute ass beneath the hem of his Hozier t-shirt he got at the concert they went to last year, runs his fingers under the elastic edges of her panties. “Let me make you feel better,” he whispers against her knotted curls. When was the last time she brushed her hair? He moves his fingers and strokes his knuckles along the seam of her, separated by the purple cotton with the little white hearts dotted all over it.

The thunder rumbles nearly over them, little time between the flashes of lightning, casting shadows across the room

Her hips shift against his touch, the puff of damp breath against his throat and he tugs the cotton aside, strokes two fingers along where she’s warm, and he promises her in whispers that she’s safe. His fingers come away damp and his thumb joins in to press against her clit, draws that achy whimper and her teeth catch against his neck, cock hard between them. The whine Abby makes is muffled with the rest of her sounds when he presses both fingers in and he groans into her hair. “Little rabbit, you’re so fucking tight.” Tiny and tight, whimpering and wriggling against two thick fingers curling into her. If he was kinder, he would have made her come first and let her loosen up.

Aegon is a good boyfriend, but he’s not always a kind one.

Abby doesn’t mind. Her body grips him tight that he can barely move with how tense and needy she is against him. He presses kisses against her brow and pulls her closer. “Take it easy… I’ve got you. Let go, Abs.” He feels her nod against his shoulder, spit gathering from her rubbing her mouth against his skin and he finds a rhythm, grinds the heel of his palm into her clit while he works his fingers against her, insistent on making her see stars.

Harwin and Rhaenyra are asleep downstairs, in town to take care of things with her father’s heart attack and Larys’... mysterious disappearance with a warrant out for his arrest. Wylla had found the dump site and it was the brotherly bonding activity between him, Aemond, and Daeron when the youngest was home for the weekend from his fancy boarding school.

Uncle Daemon had even showed up. A full family event as Aegon watched the dozens of blinking eyes swim closer. Listened to the whining gasp of his girlfriend’s monster of an older brother who thought he could make Abby an amusement, invade her and rob her of her sense of safety all for the fact that the foot fetish OnlyFans weren’t enough for him.

The gators had thrashed with glee in the water, the shadows thrown long from the headlights of the SUV, Larys hogtied on the pool inflatable, shirtless and bleeding from the dozen cuts sliced into him.

Blood in the water, nothing left behind.

“I want to stay,” Abby whimpers and her sounds, those precious sounds turn high pitched and draw him from the memory. Aegon licks into her mouth to swallow them down, keeping them from escaping the precious space of her bed. Her body bows and arcs into his touch. They’ve gone through the room from one corner to the other. The cameras are gone. It’s just them and the storm.

Aegon was too distracted to put a towel down, too in a hurry to comfort his crying girl and when she comes with a frantic jerk of her hips and a rush of wet like a broken levee, he makes sure the blankets are gathered beneath her cute ass so they can keep going.

Rain starts to ping against the windows, the howl of the wind audible through the cracks of the old frames and Abby lays against her pillows, dreamy eyed and swollen mouth watching him while she pants in the fall of her first orgasm he’s given her in weeks.

He’s a good boyfriend. His hand splays across the soft swell of her stomach to push his shirt up and over her pert tits, stroking against the pebbled peaks and hums in contemplation. “Be quiet,” he orders her and she nods frantically, reaching for his hand to noisily suck on the fingers he had inside of her. He raises his eyebrows at her and she hums. It’s good to see her cheeky and each suck shoots straight down his spine to his cock.

The head of it drags against her, bumps up against her clit and he’d tease her endlessly until she came twice, three times. He’s too impatient though. It’s been too long and with the way she swallows his fingers down, splays her legs wide and hooks them over his hips, it’s been too long for her too.

Abby gets stuck in her head with her pretty brows furrowed, and her nose scrunched up in thought. She needs him to take care of her, she needs him, needs him needs him, him only him.

He draws his fingers from her warm mouth with a wet pop and he kisses the whine from her mouth, rolls them over so he’s on his back and his girl is straddled across his lap.

Only him, only him and her and them in this bed. No one to ever hurt her again, no one to scare her. He reaches down to rub his cock against her and they both moan and shudder. Abby’s hips wiggle trying to catch him in and she pouts, opens her mouth to whine and complain and he shoves his fingers past her pretty lips once more.

“No wonder you were crying,” he teases her and he slides against her. Once. Twice. Third time's the charm, catches where he needs and he presses in with a groan and a roll of his hips. She works her way down and her free hand presses on his chest to keep her balance. “Gods, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you, taking me like this.”

She’s so beautiful with her hair tangled around her flushed face, eyes large and wet that he thinks he can drown in them if he stares at her long enough. Aegon can’t decide what to take in more: the sweet expressions on her face while she sinks down, or the way she splits around him, the way he disappears into her. He drops his hand from her hip to work her clit, slow swipes his thumb along the aching bud. Abby wriggles and whimpers and then… then….

The groans they make in unison have his toes curling in delight when she fully takes him and he arches into her and thinks, ‘we could just run away’.

Aegon doesn’t know where they’d run to, and doesn’t particularly care. All that matters to him is this. He surges up and takes her face in his hands, needs to breathe in her cries and her sounds and every good thing he’s doing to her, that she’s feeling because they’re together and she’s with him. Aegon licks into her mouth like he owns her, like she belongs to him and part of him would say it was true, uncaring of the eye roll that it’d get.

Abby doesn’t push him away. No, she claws her hands against his shoulders, his biceps, dives in to pull at his hair in all the feral little ways he adores, and he thinks, ‘If she is mine, then I am hers’. He relishes at the marks she scores in her desperation, and the painful way she tugs at his hair so he’ll feel it for hours afterwards.

Her hands find his shoulders and she breaks their kiss, her pouty mouth swollen, and red as jolly ranchers. “More,” she says with a crack in her delicate voice and pushes him down. Abby’s pupils are blown so wide the river blue of them is a thin rim, and as lightening flashes through her windows, she looks possessed. Feral, even.

“Take it all,” he promises her with a guilelessness he hasn’t held since he was a boy. She is everything sacred left in this world to him. She is his goddess, his beginning and his end. Abby finds her rhythm in the dance of her hips and he relishes in how his rabbit uses him for her pleasure, uses him for her escape into the world they’ve made together. She draws the t-shirt over her glistening skin and Aegon sighs, happily, to watch her perky tits bounce and the way her flush blooms across her skin.

He reaches up to gather the bead of sweat coursing down her sternum and groans when she slaps his hand away.

“I didn’t s-say you couldn’t touch,” she tries to command him and he drags his nails over her belly, watches her quiver and whimper as he skims lower where she’s so sensitive.

“I wanna touch.” He preens at her and thrusts up, drunk with how tight she is around him. This is as close as he can get to crawling inside of her into the place between her ribs where he wants to live forever.

The second smack to his hand is loud in the room and he growls at her, the lilac of his eyes a burning blaze. Her head rolls to her shoulder, her hand coming up to tweak and twist the pebbled nipple and his mouth waters. “Give me.”

“S-say please.” She tugs at her breasts again and he feels her clench around him and sees stars for a moment. His breath catches and he licks his lips, mouth too wet and he hasn’t even gone down on her.

Too impatient for his own good.

He reaches up and wraps his thick fingers around her wrist, digits still damp from her hungry mouth, and tugs her down so he can ensnare her. She struggles, a wriggling rabbit and he bands his other arm around her back so she’s pressed to his chest, her knotted hair curtaining around them.

Aegon bites at her candy mouth and breathes into her all the love he holds for her, as broken and as messy as it is. She’s unable to move and his hips snap into her with a relentless focus. Her bratty behavior is adorable and it ignites the need he has for her to levels that he can’t do in a house where her brother can and will shoot him on sight for this.

What better way to die than to be covered in her, and she with him?

She cries into his mouth when she reaches that pretty point where her body shakes and trembles and writhes, where her muscles clamp him down like she’s gonna pull him inside to stay. He falls with her a moment after and it’s better than any hit he’s taken, any bottom of the bottle of Jack he’s had. There’s nothing better than Abby for the high he wants. There’s nothing better than the tingly sparkle feel where everything, in that moment, feels like goddamn fireworks and cotton candy and her shaky voice whispering, “I love you I love you,” into his mouth.

Nothing better than breathing back his own, “I love you I love you.”

He drags her up his body so she’s straddling his face and admires the mess he’s made of her cunt. A gentle tap with the back of his hand, and slides his fingers in the mess, lets it drip down, licks at her like the feral, hungry animal that lives inside of him. She’s on the pill and for a mad moment while he works his tongue inside her where she’s sore and sated, he wishes she wasnt.

If he got her pregnant, then, she couldn’t leave. She’d have to stay and they’d live their little life with their baby and they’d be happy and-

She’s coming again like a little earthquake, a burst of damp and her thighs are trembling so hard he takes pity on her and draws her down. Arms come back around her and Abby rubs her cheek against his shoulder, that place beneath his chin that was made just for her, the place made just so he could hold her close to him and their hearts could beat in time.

His Abby is made for great things. Things greater than this shitty town with the ghosts and the gators and the weights around their ankles. She’s far too good for him, far better than the rotted likes of him, but when she tilts her face back to kiss his jaw with another whispered, “I love you,” he thinks that maybe he’s being too hard on himself.

If Abby Strong could find something in him to love, then maybe he’s not such a lost cause.

“If you wanna go with them” he murmured against the crown of her hair, the scent of her shampoo faded to almost nothing by now. “I could… I could come with you.”

His chest is tight, his eyes shining with unshed tears. She’s not saying anything, just puffs of warm breath against his skin and he wonders for a moment if she’s fallen asleep. Then, little fingers trace the spot above his heart.

“Do you want to?” she whispers and it’s her scared whisper, the one where she hides with him under the covers and tells him about the bad dreams and the worries and the way she misses her mom.

“I just wanna be with you.” He steels himself and turns his head so he can look at her. Eyes shining with an expression he can’t quite figure out and the thunder rumbles overhead, rain lashing against the window.

A storm to wash everything bad away and make it new.

“I wanna be with you too.” She smiles then, and presses her flushed face into his neck. He tightens his arms around her.

“I’d follow you wherever you wanna go,” he tells her with his lips pressed into her hair. “I’m a balloon tied around your wrist. Red strings and all that. I’ll be good. I’ll be better. I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

Just don’t leave me.

“Just be you,” she whispers. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just you. My Aegon.”

He nods and squeezes her tighter. “Your Aegon. Always.”

If you liked this story, I would love to hear what you think! Please reblog to share the love and let me hear your thoughts! Thank you for reading <3

[rhaenyra-storms]

Aegon x healer!reader where reader is affectionate yet professional? She's taking care of him like a child and Aegon, being a meow meow with mommy issues has fallen hard.

oh, we all know aegon has deep mommy issues, so this is definitely something i can imagine happening heheh

pairing: aegon targaryen x f!reader warnings: aegon is falling hard AND FAST, mommy issues, description of an open wound, blood, he just wants to be cared for, aegon could be a warning (but he's soft in this), alcohol addiction words: 1.5k

masterlist

Aegon didn't want to fall in love with you. It was really more of an accident in his eyes. Growing up with his mother's influence and going through a phase of defying her and then obeying her, he could maybe trace his interest in you back to that.

He always wanted to impress his mother like Aemond did. He wasn't as gentle as Helaena or as strong as Aemond.

Maybe he just wanted someone to care for him and just him. His mother had always been bouncing between the realm, his father and his siblings. All those expectations set upon him from a young age had made him turn to alcohol and it was the only thing strong enough to numb his thoughts in a sufficient way.

Until you came along.

You were meant to check in on him, making sure the king was healthy and well. Most of his servants didn't really engage in friendly conversation with him, so he didn't expect you to be any different.

It was a rainy day when you had come in to check out a bruise on his skin that didn't seem to disappear for weeks. It wasn't anything serious, based on your knowledge, but you took your time that day and it was just you and the King in the room. Aegon had been in a rather bad mood the entire time you had been here, but the silence was uncomfortable as only the storm could be heard raging outside.

"Did you plan on going outside today, your grace?” You asked him as you stirred the ointment you had prepared a few minutes ago.

Aegon never liked to talk and he loved to avert his gaze from you all the time.

On the few occasions you had met his brother, Prince Aemond, you could tell that this was a key difference between them. You often felt like the younger prince's eye never left you, burning holes into your back even when you didn't look at him.

Your presence seemed to annoy him. So you didn't really expect him to answer at all, but at least you would have tried to make a bit of friendly conversation.

"Not really. We're having a council meeting later on."

Aegon's voice was more quiet than usual, his gaze distant as he watched the rain pour in buckets outside.

You tried to hide the surprise you were feeling. This was the most words Aegon had ever spoken to you, but you didn't want to ruin the moment by telling him that. "I hope it goes well, your grace," you replied instead, moving closer to the King.

"Would you mind showing me the bruise again?"

Aegon complied without another word, stretching out his arm and pulling his sleeve up.

He noticed how gentle you were when you applied the ointment to his skin and for a short moment, he even took a closer look at you. The King had met a few healers throughout his life, but none of them had been as pretty as you were.

She is not yours to desire.

His mother's voice echoed in his head. When he was younger, Aegon took whatever he wanted, but he felt too exhausted for that now. While the wine was able to drown out his worries, he always felt like catastrophe was right around the corner. They were heading towards a war and in the private confines of his chambers, he didn't have the energy to act confident anymore.

He didn't even thank you when you were done with your work. You were just dismissed, as usual, but you couldn't help feeling a little satisfied that you had coaxed a few words out of the King at least.

Most of your meetings with the King followed the same pattern. However, he did let a few more words slip each time.

Once, you even managed to make him laugh with a simple joke of yours.

You had heard Aegon laugh before. It was always a loud and menacing one, but that one time you had joked with him, his laugh was gentle and almost too quiet to be heard.

It had been two weeks since your last visit to the King and there wasn't any scheduled meeting ahead of you. You had done your routine checks the last time you had seen him and unless he hurt himself badly, you wouldn't be called upon.

The sun had already disappeared behind the trees of the King's Wood as you prepared to call it a day for now. You were on your way back to the castle gates, having finished a visit to the King's brother, when a Knight of the Kingsguard caught up with you in the hallway.

"I am sorry to disturb you, m'lady, but the King has hurt himself and needs your assistance."

There wasn't any room for you to argue here. You were tired and wanted to go home for the day, but if the King was in need of your help, you weren't in a position to deny it. You didn't even find yourself wanting to. What had Aegon gotten into this time?

His guard didn't follow you inside the room. Instead, he closed the heavy doors behind you and for a moment, you couldn't even spot Aegon in the room.

However, you could hear quiet groans from behind the blinds opposite of you. "Your grace?"

Aegon tumbled towards you eventually, clutching his left hand with his right one. "I need your help."

His pale skin was stained with blood. The red liquid dropped onto the floor and your breath caught in your throat. You placed your pack of supplies down, grabbing the first towel you could find in it and rushed over to him.

Aegon's face had turned red, his eyes fixated on you as you gently manoeuvred him over to a chair, wrapping the towel around his injured hand.

"What happened, your grace?" You asked, pressing the fabric against the wounds.

"I cut myself." His right hand wasn't injured, but it was covered in blood. He pointed to the other side of the room where glass shards were scattered over the floor and more bloodstains could be seen around them.

"I need to clean the wound first. Stay here," you mumbled quickly and rushed over to retrieve a clean wipe before soaking it with alcohol. You didn't want to risk the king getting an infection and you definitely had to talk to the maester to keep a close eye on him from now on. If he was showing the slightest signs of a fever, you should be called immediately.

Aegon's head hurt, but it didn't stop him from staring at you. The worried expression in your eyes... he was rarely able to see it aimed at him. Everyone always looked at him greedily or with hatred glowing in their eyes. He wasn't loveable and everyone around him made sure to tell him that.

But when you cleaned and bandaged his wounds, talking softly to him while doing so, and looking like you cared, he for once felt like someone could genuinely like him. It didn't have to be love, of course, but he felt like he was experiencing it in some way.

You were smart and beautiful and you cared enough for Aegon to let his guard down. Enjoy your beautiful eyes and bathe in the feeling of genuinely being cared for.

It was happening fast. Too fast.

But all he had ever known were the cold stares from his mother, his brother and especially his wife and sister.

"You need to be more careful, A-"

Your breath caught in your throat. "I am sorry, your grace, I-"

Aegon lifted his healthy hand for a moment. "Don't worry about it. I prefer Aegon anyway."

Had he ever allowed a servant to call him by his name? No. Did it feel right to have you do it when you always gave him those sweet smiles? Definitely. "It's just Aegon," he clarified.

Your eyes visibly widened at the correction. It was surprising that the King would allow you to call him by his first name, but you wouldn't complain. He looked more content after he offered it to you and that expression looked good on him.

"Of course. Just Aegon," you smiled, closing the bandage around his hand once and for all. You then filled a cup with water, handing it to the King and your patient. "Drink. It would be best for you to rest and not put too much pressure on your left hand."

While Aegon always loved to defy whatever someone told him to do, he was happy to oblige this time. He took the cup from you and downed it in one go, placing it back down on the table afterwards.

"Thank you. For..."

When had he ever genuinely thanked someone in the last few years?

"For helping me."

You let out a small laugh, looking at the man in front of you. "There is no need to thank me, Aegon. It's my profession after all. Helping you and looking after you."

Your voice was so sweet and soft, it sounded like music to Aegon's ears. He wanted to hear it play more often from now on.

He couldn't keep cutting himself on purpose to make you care for him, but he could invite you to more joyful meetings.

Because it felt good to actually be cared for. Especially by someone as beautiful as you.

[rynnthefangirl]

Sometimes it becomes hard to hate Team Green when they do such a great job of causing pain and suffering to my least favorite character.

Aemond's a deranged bloodthirsty little psycho, but when he burnt his rapist usurper brother to a crisp?? Iconic.

Alicent is an obnoxious hypocrite, but now she's throwing her son under the bus and is gonna let him be beheaded? Wonderful! It's about time someone did that.

Otto is a manipulative traitor piece of shit, but him putting Aegon the Usurper in his place was one of the highlights of season 2.

Larys is a snake, but he's also gonna poison Aegon down the line, which will be doubly great in the show with Aegon being betrayed by the dude he thought was on his side.

Aegon stole his sisters crown, and all it will ever bring him is betrayal, heartbreak, suffering, agony, and death. As it should be.

[ficzhub]

The Foreign Woman

Part 4

(Art credit to @kevvidile )

Aemond Targeryen x Older Myrish OC (Alexyse Majeríz)

✨✨✨✨

CW: hurt/comfort, obsession, dysfunctional family, mommy issues, comforting a child as an older child, duplicitous OC, creepy crush, jealous Aemond Targaryen, envious Aegon II Targaryen, emotional manipulation, spying, possessive Aemond Targaryen, jealous Aegon II Targaryen, power imbalance, power dynamics.

✨✨✨✨

Chapter 4: Troublesome

"Oh, my prince-" she began while facepalming before he'd cut her off

"No! Not 'your prince', your Aemond!" He nearly yelled

"Shh!" She pleaded, pressing her index finger to her lips before pressing her hand on his cheek "My Aemond," she calmed "what are you doing here?"

She still felt drowsy from being woken up so suddenly, and mildly irritated with him. He's a sad, scared, lonely little boy, terribly misunderstood but it wasn't really her place to watch over him like he wants her to. Though that's her own fault, she could've left when she saw him crying, or when she threw something at her and screamed at her to leave. But she didn't and instead got into bed with the boy, wrapped her arms around him and let him cry until he fell asleep on her chest. She told herself later that it was because he may know something she doesn't, being the quiet listener he is. But that wasn't true. She did it because he needed her to, because no one else had bothered to.

"I told you, I couldn't sleep." He said

"Why? What happened?" She asked

"I had a nightmare." He lied.

He didn't want to lie to his Maery, but what else could he say? He knew he'd have one if he'd been able to go to sleep anyway. "I couldn't stop crying."

That part was true, from the moment she left his chambers until he'd decided to leave them and find her. It embarrassed him, but he felt he should tell her this. It could only work in his favor, in any case.

"Honey, I can't keep you here and I can't stay in your chambers." She explains again, softly "Come, I'll walk you back to yours. You can't be out here, it could even be dangerous."

He didn't care obviously. The worst thing that could happen to him already did. He was deformed, permanently irreparable. The only good thing that came of this besides his dragon was his Maery.

"If it's so dangerous then you certainly shouldn't be out here either." He pointed out, not realizing she was likely the most dangerous thing out there. "Not to mention how rubbish the accommodations seem to be."

He looks back at her little hovel in disgust.

"Dangerous for you, baby. Perfectly fine for me." She explains "And the accommodations are more than adequate for a woman in my station. I don't deserve any more than any other maid working for your family."

"That's not true." He immediately disagrees, liking her loving pet names for him "You're no mere maid."

Her blood runs cold, but she tries not to panic. Has she been doing such a terrible job hiding who she is that even a half-blind ten year old could tell she wasn't who she said she was?

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" She asks

"You shouldn't be working as a maid, picking up other's filth and working yourself ragged. You could do so much more." He says

"You think so?" She asks smiling "Like what?"

"You should be a lady, a grand lady or a maester. If they allowed women to be maesters." He suggests excitedly

"Oh, if only..." she says knowing there are maesters, robes heavy with links who don't know half what she does.

He holds onto her hand firmly, not to keep his balance but to make sure she doesn't stray from him. He wants the least distance possible between them. She smells rain approaching and tries to walk to the castle as fast as she can without making Aemond trip but by the time they get inside it's already too late. The drizzle becomes a storm in mere seconds and she turns to see Aemond smiling widely.

"You could hardly go back to that hovel now."

She puts her hands on her hips and smirks "The rain won't kill me Aemond, I am not made of sugar."

"But you could get sick!" He exclaimed

"I'm not quite so delicate."

"Please don't go." He drops the pretense of being worried of the rain and reverts to begging. "Please."

"Darling, if they catch me in here I'll be reprimanded. I can't stay." She says, squeezing his hand and walking him to his chambers.

"Then I'll make sure you won't get caught." He promises

"You can't be sure of that my love, and even if you could it's not your responsibility. I'm a maid, I have my place and you have yours."

"Your place is with me!" He insists loudly and rushes into a hug, wrapping his arms so tightly around her waist it almost restricts her breathing.

"Shhh, honey you can't be so loud." She says quietly and rubbing her hand on his back to calm him. From his short she is, no taller than 158 cm, she presses her cheek to the top of his head.

"They can't say anything to me, even if we get caught." He retorts stubbornly, not letting go, enjoying the feeling of her softness against him, making him feel better as she tends to do, intentionally or otherwise. He inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the scent of her.

"I meant more so because people are sleeping and we need to be considerate of them." She elaborates in a whisper "Come, let's get you to bed."

They both start walking towards his chambers but his hands never leave her arm and hand, holding onto it with a near vice grip. Scared she'll leave him, scared he'll have to go back out and search for her again only to not find her anywhere. They reach them and she makes sure to tuck him into bed and leave, only to be held back by his hand on her forearm.

"Honey, please." She begs now

"They won't reprimand you, I swear it. Please, Maery." His little eye fills with tears threatening to spill over and she knows he must hate being in the position of begging an underling to hold him so he could sleep.

She thinks of her own parents, her wonderful mother who never let her feel alone and babies her even now as a grown woman for all intents and purposes. Her father, who while firm, made sure to protect her and teach her how to protect herself in case he may not be able to. How could the king not at least ask about this little boy's well being? How could the Queen be doing anything other than fretting over him? What the fuck kind of family is this? Both of their fingers are changing color from the force with which Aemond is holding her hand. She practically slaps the other on her own forehead and sighs, feeling unbearably guilty and unable to deny this sweet boy something so basic, so primal as comfort.

"What makes you so sure you could keep from having me punished? Or fired and made so you could never see me again?" She asks, seeing what plan the little prince has up his sleeve.

He gives you a small smile and looks down shyly. "I've already told the Queen Mother about you, I told her how much I enjoy your work. I'd asked to have you moved to the chambers next to mine so I wouldn't have to call on you so often and have someone else take on the responsibilities that don't pertain to me."

He states these things proudly, but it only makes Alexyse's heart sink. This boy has gotten too attached and because of him she may never complete the assignment. She already can't move about the castle as she used to because of how he keeps following her around. Now she'll have to spend every second of every day attached to his hip as his own personal maid instead of a general family maid?

"And Lady Mochel has approved already?" She asks

"She doesn't need to, she doesn't make those choices." He says, pointing his nose up.

"Well sure honey, but I meant as in she's already had other people take over my work load?"

"I don't know, to be honest I don't particularly care. They'll take care of it."

'And I'll be able to keep you to myself.' He thinks

"There are something's I'm the only one who knows how to do, we don't have anyone on staff who can do them. They're hiring new people?" She asks

"I don't know! I don't care!" He cries "I've done what I've needed to do to keep you safe, just stay

with me."

"Alright, alright." She says, "Move over, sweetheart."

He tries to contain his glee with a small smile that hurts his wound, but he scoots over and makes room for her next to him. He snuggles up next to her with his head on her chest, trying to get as much of his body to connect with hers. The sound of her steady heartbeat quiets his anxiety and the fear that she'll leave him is assuaged, she can hardly leave without him noticing. He pressed himself to her as tightly as he could to the point where she felt his little fingers digging into her ribs.

She tries to make herself comfortable while holding the boy, trying to find a solution that won't hurt his already delicate feelings, allow her to finish her job and leave unnoticed. Trying to work out a way she'll be 'forced' away from him, perhaps. That it's not her choosing to abandon him, never! Just that circumstances are working against them both. But that'll have to wait for tomorrow. Right now she'll just comfort the little prince. No matter how unexpected his attachment to her became, she can't deny he's a sweet boy. Neglected, and maybe a little spoiled, as is to be expected from a prince in the royal family. But sweet, and in desperate need of motherly affection.

She doesn't envy his position. Alexyse loves her life, the life her family has granted her. Thanks to them she's a certified weapon, someone to fear, someone to respect. She doesn't have to be a whore, or a damsel who's only good for getting married and birthing children. Instead she can protect women like them, make sure they're being treated fairly. She can't count high enough to the number of how many monsters disguised as men have been killed by her tiny, unthreatening mother. How many pompous, arrogant cunt lords and merchants have been disposed of by her bastard father. Alexyse herself is now responsible for sentencing quite a few lowlives to very painful deaths by just her word, but she couldn't wait to get her hands dirty.

Still, the whole time they were training her, sculpting her to be someone capable and strong, she never felt like she wasn't cherished by her family. Her father taught her to sharpen his blades and treat his leathers, but also played with her and sang her the Dornish lullabies his father taught him before she fell asleep. Her mother taught her to synthesize more poisons than most people know even exist by the time she was as old as the little boy she's holding now, but she always brushed out her hair and let her play with the other children that lived near them in the water springs.

What childhood was this little man allowed to have? The spare to the spare to the heir of a man who neglects them all but one? Everyone knowing of him, watching him as they watch his whole family, training him in histories and philosophies and with the sword but not letting him behave as a little boy should. It's too dry, too frigid. No child could grow up well of mind in this type of shit, it's no wonder she's only ever seen him smile in the last two days despite being here for a quite a while now. She's the only one who's done anything worth him hurting himself by smiling.

She feels him snuggle his face against her chest and smiles down at him as he falls asleep, unaware that his presence wasn't the only one apart from hers. Aegon had been observing uncharacteristically quiet that day, seeing his little brother mope around following the pretty maid like a lost puppy. He thought he'd call him out on it and make the 10-year-old's cheeks red at the mention of his little crush, until he'd seen what he did to the ranchhand. Now, seeing his little brother clinging desperately to this girl after sneaking off to look for her in the dead of night, he wonders what's so special about her.

Aegon keeps watching them, surprised at his own envy. He can’t remember the last time anyone’s held him like that, anyone he hasn’t recently started paying. Can’t remember the last time a woman made sure he felt warm and safe, touched him because she wanted to, not because he’d forced or paid for it. Aemond was always the favorite, for everyone, even his own. He should’ve been the first born, he does everything the way people would expect of him, from claiming the biggest dragon, to his studies to even taking the loss of his eye with dignity. Aegon is more sensitive than people know, than people give him credit for. He just wants to know what it feels like to be in Aemond’s current position. To have someone, someone genuinely care for you, someone of your own.

AO3 link:

(Part 3 \/)

[bottlesandbarricades]

The Hour of Ghosts

Summary: A short story exploring the supernatural consequences of the Dance of the Dragons. Word Count: 2961 Warnings: Major spoilers for House of the Dragon season 2 / Fire & Blood, Major Character Deaths, Suicide, Mental Illness, Violence, Graphic Injury, Spooky Themes A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing something hotd-related and is essentially my coming-out-of-writing retirement fic to ease myself back into writing. Big thank you to @beaconofthehightower for pushing me to finish this and @dreamymoomin for beta reading. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my silly little ghost story 👻

The Dance of the Dragons left deep scars on the Seven Kingdoms, political and otherwise. Although the literal stench of death was vigorously scrubbed clean, the stains remained, ingrained into the very fibre of the people and the world left behind.

The battered, burnt banner of fire, blood and loss hung over the ruins of a once noble house. Hastily patched and practically mended with rough hands attempting to salvage what remained of House Targaryen and restore order to the realm. The bitterness of it all stuck to the tongue like ashes in your mouth - it had been for nothing.

No one had won; everyone had lost.

The generations to come would debate the facts and wage their own war with words, for and against each side’s claim in volume after volume of biassed histories. Others would simply gloat with the gift of hindsight, suggesting that those involved should have foreseen that a war of kin slaying kin and dragon fighting dragon would never have had a glorious victor.

As the years passed, the memories of the war faded from the sharp, throbbing string of freshly cut wounds to aching battle scars. Moving into that part of the collective memory, where the lines between fact and legend become murky and confused. Truths became as tangible as wisps of smoke from an open hearth, sewn together with the thread of imagination by every wet nurse in Westeros.

Something haunted these lands - collective trauma manifesting and twisting into tales of ghosts, ghouls and fantasm.

From the North shore of the God's Eye, where the blackened ruins of Harrenhal sit decaying, it is said that some evenings as the sun drops below the Western horizon, a high-pitched whistle can be heard in the wind. A piercing unnatural sound that makes the blood in your veins run cold.

To the native smallfolk, this sound is a well-known harbinger, a sign to shutter your windows tightly and turn in for the night - less you wish to glimpse something eerie illuminated in the moonlight over the inky black water.

The story goes that the shrill sound of Prince Daemon's mount, Caraxes, is always followed, even on the clearest of nights, by a rumbling like thunder, so loud that it sends ripples through the lake - the roar of the once mighty war dragon, Vhagar.

Phantom snarls shake the ground, hailing the infinite clash between the Blood Wyrm and the she-ancient dragon of the one-eyed Prince, Aemond Targaryen.

The sound of wings that no longer beat and gnashing jaws that have long since crumbled to dust echo for dozens of miles. Sparks of white-hot dragon fire gone cold reflected in the water below. As spectral flashes of red and bronzy green scales appear against the colourless void of night, weaving and merging like a coil of translucent serpents, struggling and writhing for dominance.

Shades of memory replay - Caraxes’ jaw locked tight around the larger dragon's throat, as Vhagar clawed, bit, and ripped in bloody retaliation. Tearing scales from flesh, and flesh from bone with the ease of Valyrian steel.

However, most unnerving are the two pale princes themselves mounted on the ghastly long dead beasts, as silver as their hair was in life, both gaunt with death and cadaverous to the eye. Sallow skin pulled taut over their skeletal faces, cheeks stained with tracks of red from bloody tears, which ran from sunken eyes.

Two souls destined to be locked in a battle for eternity, forever to play out their mutually assured destruction. The elder fated to leap from his dying mount and drive his blade of moonlight into the younger’s skull - again and again overlooked by Black Harren’s accursed seat.

A sickening and frightening spectacle for mortal eyes to perceive, yet in the absence of fear you might say there was a chilling beauty to the scene. Always to end the same way - poetically some would say - in fire and blood.

To the south, high above the city of King’s Landing upon Aegon’s Hill, the mighty Red Keep plays host to many ghosts of its own. This is no surprise as many people would wager that enough blood had been spilt within its walls over the years to fill the Blackwater. The castle is plagued by ghouls from across the ages, some from the days of the conqueror, himself.

Folk could pass many a long winter’s night recalling the countless tragedies of that castle and those who were said to remain there. It appeared that this war of dancing dragons only added to that grisly spectral collection.

It is Maegor’s Holdfast, where servants don't dare linger alone and guards dread to be posted in fear of hearing her. The whisper of phantom sobbing that murmurs just beyond the reach of your ears or more terribly ghoulish shrieks of anguish that grasp your throat with fear and settle in your chest. It is the sound of grief-driven madness consuming a gentle, yet tortured soul.

Even as the years passed, the agony of Queen Helaena’s bereavement was palpable, the sounds of her anguished cries were enough to drive anyone to madness. They consumed you, drowning you in sorrow and dragging you down with suffocating melancholy.

Some say that Helaena’s haunting was part of what drove her Mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower to her own derangement in the years following the war.

Tormented, not only by the loss of her three sons but also by the cries and whimpers of her dead daughter, which echoed off the pale red stone. Confined within the very same walls that had been sweet Helaena’s home turned prison in the last half year of her life before she had flung herself from the window to her death, impaled on the spikes below.

Alicent Hightower had been harshly punished for her sins. The feeling of being trapped, one way or another, had been a constant companion throughout her life. Yet it seemed being locked away, like her daughter before her, was the final straw.

No needle and thread nor book could save her sanity.

She spent her time attempting to converse with people unseen, sickened by the colour green and longing to hold and comfort her dearest babe in distress whom, like the rest of her children Alicent could no longer picture the face of.

On her deathbed, it appeared that the raging fever quieted the madness and allowed for moments of clarity and reflection for the Queen in chains. As expected, Alicent spoke at length of her regrets and confessed her transgressions. It seemed for the first time in a very long time, Alicent Hightower was at peace.

“I want to see my sons again.” Alicent had said, as her life ebbed away. “And Helaena, my sweet girl.”

The Septa who sat in vigil over Queen Alicent that night, failed to mention everything that happened in the final hours of Alicent’s life in her official account. What the poor woman had witnessed as the rain lashed against the castle windows had left her shaken, clutching her seven-pointed star so tightly that each corner had left tiny cuts on her palms and fingers.

At the hour of the wolf, the Stranger had come for Alicent Hightower, but it appeared death was not alone.

The Queen’s breaths had become shallower and shallower until finally, the death rattle had set in. It was then that an eerie coldness filled the bed chamber, at odds with the raging fire in the grate. Gooseflesh prickled across the Septa’s skin as the chill engulfed her. A cold so biting that she could feel it seep through the numerous layers of her coarse linen robes.

It was strange and unnatural.

With an abrupt rush of wind, the fire was extinguished from the hearth. Snuffing out her last fragile defence against the fear that had suddenly taken hold of her. The room was consumed by darkness and the Septa’s only solace now was a handful of low-burning candles clinging to their flame within the bedside lantern.

She knew she should move; she should attempt to rekindle the logs that smouldered in the fireplace or call out to the guard on the door and yet she could not. Instead, she sat frozen in her chair and was forced to bear witness.

Between the hammering of her own heart, the rasping breaths of the dying Queen and the rain that pounded relentlessly at the window panes, it was hard for the Septa to hear them at first.

The voices started softly and indistinct, like overhearing a conversation in another room, but grew louder and more coherent with each passing moment. Till it was as if they were in the very bed-chamber itself.

Initially, she believed they were children’s voices due to their high and melodic quality. However, as the Septa strained her ears to hear, she soon realised these voices chopped and changed in tone with every few syllables, distorting into a heavier and deeper pitch and then swiftly returning to a higher register.

Stricken with fright, all she could do was listen. Discerning that the voices seemed more masculine than feminine, the Septa tried to focus on distinguishing meaning in the sea of words as the voices continuously talked over each other.

Then she heard it, the common thread. One word was repeated over and over.

“Mother.”

The realisation was scalding, in sharp contrast to the icy air that surrounded her. The Septa’s initial instincts were correct; these were the voices of children - Alicent’s children.

The blinding clarity only seemed to make the voices grow louder. Becoming more frantic and fractured, flicking rapidly between youth and maturity. It was chaotic and confusing, as if years of memories were trying to compress themselves into a single moment. Blurry, broken and half-remembered.

“Where are you, my loves? I can’t see you.” Came the weakened voice from the bed between laboured gasps.

The Septa’s eyes had now adjusted to the dark and she watched in horror as she began to notice the movement of unnatural shapes forming in the gloom.

Hearing them was one thing, but seeing them was another.

Twisting and bending, the four misshapen figures that manifested could not decide what they wished to embody. They shifted in stature and years in the same disturbing manner as their voices, morphing from adult to child and back again.

They crowded the bed, tugging at the bedclothes as they had once tugged at Alicent’s skirts in life, so many years ago. All the while their voices kept on calling for her. It was too much to bear.

This fresh wave of alarm seemed to bring the Septa to her senses and she did the only thing she knew she could. She began to pray, hands clasped together around her seven-pointed star. Shutting her eyes tightly as she recited the words, she wished to hear no more, to see no more.

Time seemed stagnant as each minute that slipped by felt like ten. The Septa focused on her prayers, drawing comfort from the words she knew so well. The familiarity shielding her from the ghoulish sights and sounds around her.

Until all of a sudden, she felt a shift in the air and the voices were gone, fading just as fast as they had come. A balmy glow now beckoned through her closed eyelids.

There was light and warmth as the fire returned to the grate. The logs were ablaze once again, heat flooding the room and banishing the chill which had consumed it.

The Septa took a shaky breath before daring to open her eyes, taking a moment to bask in the feeling of being warm and alive in the peaceful, blessed silence.

As the rain pattered softly against the glass, she realised the storm had passed, along with Alicent Hightower.

Across the water, clinging to the face of the volcano known as Dragonmont, sits the fortress of Dragonstone. A place of salt, smoke and brimstone. The ancestral seat of House Targaryen, a relic of Old Valyria forged by dragonfire and the forgotten magic of Dragonlords.

This castle was the grim and eerie backdrop where some say Aegon II claimed victory over his half-sister, the Black Queen. A hollow and costly victory, which hardly tipped the scales in the face of all that he had lost.

One final petulant jab in this bloody squabble.

Though accounts from both sides of the warring factions differ on many things, they find common ground on one exchange, which took place upon Rhaenyra’s arrival from King’s Landing to find herself betrayed and Aegon in situ.

“Dear Brother, I had hoped you were dead.” Rhaenyra called out at the sight of Aegon’s half-charred and twisted form. Delighted by the small triumph of his injuries and satisfied that even though she would almost certainly die at his hand, Aegon would spend the rest of his days bearing scars done in her name.

“After you. You are the elder.” King Aegon spat back with a pained grin, his jaw clenched hard as he fought to hide the agony that coursed throughout his broken body. He had refused milk of the poppy out of the fear of poisoning and paid tenfold for it.

“I am pleased to know that you remember that.” Rhaenyra replied.

Now friendless and at the mercy of the enemy, Rhaenyra Targaryen was forcefully separated from her son. Little did those present know that once the dust of conflict had finally settled, this child would in fact be King in his own right. But, for now, he was just a boy.

A boy forced to watch his Mother die.

The Realm’s Delight was served up to Aegon’s dragon, Sunfyre, who bathed her in red-hot dragonfire. As the flames consumed her, Rhaenyra raised her head skywards and shrieked out one last curse.

What didn't burn, was swiftly devoured. The final memorial to the Half-Year Queen being nothing more than the scorch marks left on the ancient flagstones.

The words and meaning of Rhaenyra’s dying curse are lost to time, but many suspect it was the root cause for the strange happenings that followed.

It started at the site of her killing, a peculiar sweltering heat rising from the stone for which there was no logical source. Those foolish enough to dare place their hand on the blackened marks themselves would come away harshly burned in searing pain. A mere moment's touch brought about hideous blisters that bubbled on the skin and left the surrounding flesh charred and cracked.

Then came the sightings, it was said that if you ventured to cross the courtyard in the dead of night you may catch a glimpse of the Black Queen herself.

A haunting apparition composed of swirling smoke and glowing embers. The flaming skirts of her gown twirled around her as long silver-gold hair burned bright like white hot iron. Flames licked around her once beautiful face, now reduced to nothing but ash and a pair of hollow eyes.

The smell of burning flesh and brimstone filled the air as an aura of blistering heat that radiated around her form, shimmering and distorting. No words came from her blackened mouth, only thick, choking smoke as she silently screamed, leaving trails of cinders in her wake as she stalked the castle grounds.

Rhaenyra Targaryen conveyed her displeasure through the flame, which had been her demise. Burning anything to which her spirit took offence. Newly hung tapestries were known to spontaneously combust and seven pointed stars melted in their holders.

She may not have held the Seven Kingdoms or sat the Iron Throne, but it was clear that Dragonstone was her domain and even in death she would remain its mistress.

As the decades passed, it appeared her restless soul seemed to quieten - the sudden fires becoming less frequent and sightings fewer and fewer. Till the tales of her spectre had become nothing more than a story to frighten children.

Theories to the reason for this change were in the dozens, some claiming that a young brave Septon had been to Dragonstone and bravely banished the fiery ghoul from the castle, casting her down to the Seven Hells where she belonged.

Others believe her spirit's suddenly passive nature was linked to an even greater shift, something was changing for House Targaryen itself. Where the air of Dragonstone had once been thick with Valyrian enchantment there seemed to be rot.

Their magic was dying, eroding away further and further with each generation.

People once said that the Targaryens were closer to Gods than men and yet it would seem that the sin of the dance had angered something much older and much crueller than the deity of several aspects worshipped by the faith of the Seven.

This was something ancient and primal that wished to punish them for tearing apart their house with the blessing of dragons that had made them Kings. Many argued that the sins of the Greens and the Blacks were the reason that after the war House Targaryens’ dragons declined, getting smaller and weaker as their power faded with each malformed dragon and unhatched egg.

In the end, the doom of the Targaryen dynasty was inevitable. The damage was done and the dominos would continue to fall uninterrupted. Without their dragons what truly separated them from the other great houses of the Seven Kingdoms?

How long would it be before others saw the mirage for what it was and another contender took their chance for the Iron Throne?

After all, power only resides where men believe it resides. Truth does not matter, only perception and once the illusion of power is extinguished, snuffed out with the dying breath of the last dragon, there is no returning to what once was.

[snowprincesa1]

Masterlist 𓅻𓅼𓅽

Daemon Targaryen:

A Fool of a Brother {2 Sept 2023}

{Daemon goes to the Vale to retrieve you, a particular woman who he thinks will help him win his brothers favour👀💟}

A Fool of a Brother🔥 (2/2) {4 Sept 2023}

{Daemon feels upset by your decision to leave kingslanding for the Vale. He would do anything to make you stay 💞💞}

Jacaerys Targaryen:

Seducing the prince🔥{21 Oct 2023}

{Jacaerys is betrothed to his childhood bully and finds pleasure in seeing her attempt to win his love and affection 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨💕💕💕}

Aemond Targaryen:

What bothers you? {2 Sept 2023}

{Aemond is upset by the fact that you won’t reveal to him what ails you 😮‍💨💗}

Aegon Targaryen:

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Alicent Hightower:

Others:

Fanart Masterlist link

[strawberry-milkbunny]

Media literacy is truly dead because you can’t say you like Aegon and how complex of a character he is without stans mentioning he’s a r*pist bc god forbid I like a FICTIONAL terrible person

On the other hand yall would not last a DAY against Griffith fans LMAO

[djlexi]

This was just an idea I had in my head for a little bit

So what if Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys have another child, around the same age as Helena (yes I know it’s odd, but can happen) she takes after her mother with long dark hair, but darker skin and emerald eyes. Laena takes her to Pentos with her and raises her as one of her own, her and Daemon also have a good relationship. She was there when Laena died and cried in Daemons arms. When they return back to Westeros for the funeral, she is greeted by Aegon. Their first interaction does not go well. She first finds him to be an annoying, selfish, drunk prick, meanwhile he is totally infatuated with her and tries his best to be around her. She instead choses to spend time around her nieces and nephews, being quite close to Jace. One night while again crying over her sister in the garden, Aegon happens to find her and offers her comfort( she begrudgingly accepts) they slowly grow closer, finding him to be quite sensitive, and seeing how he lacked love and compassion while growing up. She even goes as far and trys to defend him when Aemond accuses him of spreading rumors. When she find out that Laenor had died and that Daemond and Rhaenyra have been married, assuming they had been behind her siblings deaths, she loses it and flys off. Aegon is the only one who finds her, comforts and calms her down. Meanwhile Alicent and Rhaenys have noticed their affections towards one another and plan on marrying them to form an alliance. Daemon find Xreader and trieds to convince them to come back with him to dragonstone. She refuses and calls him a murder, announcing her engagement to “their future king”. She is married to aegon shortly after a marriage of not only convince but love

I’m not really good at writing whole story’s. I’m sorry if none of this makes sense, it’s all from my malipitive daydream 😭 if anyone else can just work off this for me that would be great please and thank you <3!!!🫶

Idk guys I am just hopelessly in love with this blond headed troubled boy 😭 I think all he needs is someone to truly love him.

[nepentheansea]

・𝘴𝘬𝘺𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵・

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content! 

do not repost, write off as your own, or translate. Feedback appreciated 🍋 love ya <3

𝘚𝘬𝘺𝘦 | 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳 | 20𝘴 | 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 | 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 | 𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘯 10 | 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 & 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳

�� 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔

𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦

𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦

☀ 𝘙𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦

𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘖𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦

𝘊𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴

ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴀʀɪᴇs

𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐇𝚰𝐅𝐓𝐒

☀𝑴𝒚 𝑶𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔

𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘍𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘩 & 𝘚𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺

𝘚𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘰𝘺 𝘚𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

☀𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔

♡𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘑𝘢��𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 ♡𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 '𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵' 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 ♡𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘎𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘯-𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘗𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘊𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘺 ♡𝘌𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 ♡𝘚𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴

[tenthmuseondine]

The Back Pearl of Braavos and 16th century Venetian Fashion:

There is a common consensus among fans that Braavos - a city sited on a group of small islands that are linked by bridges and walkways, divided by canals, channels and waterways of varying size - is heavily inspired by Italian mercantile/maritime republics, of which Venice is the most famous.

Furthermore, the canal-based, inter-connecting island architecture is not the only similarity between Braavos and Venice; both cities are famed for their courtesans.

Indeed in 16th century, Venice was famed for its many elaborately dressed and coiffed courtesans; Veronica Franco (1546–1591) is a famous example! She developed her position in Renaissance Venetian society as a cortigiana onesta (Honest Courtesan), known for her notable clientele, feminist advocacy, literary contributions, and philanthropy.

Her fictional parallel in ASOIAF could be Bellegere Otherys II - one of the famed courtesans in Braavos (the other being Daughter of the Dusk). We know Bellegere comes from a family of courtesans, bearing the title of Black Pearl of Braavos - a moniker borne by a descendant of Bellegere Otherys I, the first Black Pearl, a pirate queen who became a mistress of Aegon IV Targaryen.

The eldest bastard daughter of King Aegon IV and Bellegere, Bellenora Otherys, became a courtesan under the same name. Bellenora's descendants became courtesans as well, each eventually bearing the name "Black Pearl".

We can also assume that Bellegere is rather wealthy, owning her own barge and servants to pole her to trysts and when purchasing three cockles from Arya, who is disguised as Cat of the Canals, paying ten times what the cockles are worth. This wealth is directly reflected in her clothing!

"She was so lovely that the lamps seemed to burn brighter when she passed. She had dressed in a low-cut gown of pale yellow silk, startling against the light brown of her skin. Her black hair was bound up in a net of spun gold, and a jet-and-gold necklace brushed against the top of her full breasts." (TWOW, Mercy)

The aforementioned "low-cut gown" immediately brings to mind the 16th century gowns worn by Venetian courtesans!

Look at this art print of a Venetian Courtesan (Cortigiana Veneta) published by Pietro Bertelli in 1591.

Notice the incredibly low and exposed neckline of the gown!

It is important to mention, however, that not only courtesans dressed this way. Venetian noblewomen of the 16th century also bared their breasts in keeping with the fashion of the day.

For example, look at this art print of a Venetian Bride (Sposa Veneta), also by Pietro Bertelli. There is virtually no difference; perhaps that is why the civic authorities decried the courtesans' deliberately misleading resemblance to 'honest women.'

In some portrayals, the Venetian woman's neckline opens almost immediately below the breast!

In Dress of Venetian Women (Habiti delle Donne Venetiane) ca. 1591–1610, the engravings done by Giacomo Franco show ornately dressed courtesans and respectable women, all of whom sport very low cut bodices.

In the second plate we see a depiction of parentado, or the ritual presentation of a bride to her relations. Here, a bride in a richly embroidered dress wearing pearls and a bejeweled crown is presented by her ballerino, a dance instructor who prevented the woman from toppling over in her chopines, or platform shoes.

In conclusion, in depicting Bellegere Otherys - the Black Pearl of Braavos - I would most definitely illustrate her wearing a gown inspired by 16th century Venetian dress (worn by both courtesans and noblewomen). She'd look rather striking I think.

[djlexi]

When I see Aegon all I hear is that one song from

Donzell Taggart - Flames

Though this could apply to most character from HOTD

[manderleyfire]

#the greens' love and loyalty and trust in not just each other but also their dragons was what differentiated them from team black #which was filled with betrayers and turncloaks. the greens' bonds of family was /their/ redeeming quality. so of course ryan condal takes #that away from them and gives it to rhaenyra. because everything good abt the greens and everything bad abt rhaenyra is propaganda (via gojuo)

Remember what they're taking from you

Fire and Blood, p. 398:

Fire and Blood, p. 387:

Fire and Blood, p. 390:

Fire and Blood, p. 401:

Fire and Blood, p. 402:

Fire and Blood, p. 409:

Fire and Blood, p. 424:

Fire and Blood, p. 425:

Fire and Blood, p. 437:

Fire and Blood, p. 473:

Fire and Blood, p. 561:

Dangerous Women, The Princess and the Queen, p. 783:

Fire and Blood, p. 506:

Fire and Blood, p. 381:

Fire and Blood, p. 380:

Fire and Blood, p. 533:

Fire and Blood, p. 541:

Fire and Blood, p. 542:

Fire and Blood, p. 550:

[ellewod]

i might regret this, but oh well…

first of all, i personally (!!!) have not come across aegon stans who are rape apologists. haven’t read anyone saying "it’s okay he did that to dyana, it’s not so bad". fans know that he is a canon rapist on the show, they condemn the act, but it doesn’t mean we cannot root or feel for this fictional character. that we can’t find reasons (not excuses) for his hurtful behavior. he did not harm anyone in real life. he is fictional. his actions are fictional. his victim is fictional. there is no need to shame people for enjoying a fictional character who is morally ambiguous at best, an outright evil character at worst. it’s fiction.

that said, there are countless characters on that show who commit war crimes, who are murderers and rapists and child killers and terrorists even. it’s just not portrayed that way, not so much in the focus, therefore not discussed as often. they get redemption arcs for atrocious acts and some of their acts are even forgotten as a whole. the show uses a very biased narrative and it’s utterly obvious.

concerning the "aegon ii targaryen is not a rapist" tag that’s frequently used for fics; the writers made the conscious decision to make aegon a canon rapist back in season 1 and to even use this as an introductory scene to his grown-up character. if that’s not influencing the audience, i don’t know what is.

some fans hate this decision, some don’t care, some feel like it adds to his character. i am honestly neutral about this in the general sense; it’s plausible for him to have blurred lines concerning consent and to have an unhealthy relationship with sex. it’s plausible that, as an addict, aegon would need another source of pleasure and affirmation. it makes sense that he would not understand or care about the pain he caused his victim, who is a servant and "beneath" him, in his head.

however, this violent act defining him as a character and him being portrayed as the more or less only man on that show who commits this kind of violent act, which is not even shown — not that i would want to see that, but seemingly every atrocity he commits is off screen. interesting, no? — is a writing choice i don’t agree with and that i deeply mislike. that’s what the writers decided to go with and it’s their decision.

as a writer, one is free to make their own decisions. such as not writing aegon as a rapist. that tag isn’t supposed to be an excuse for his behavior, or ignorance regarding him being a show!canon rapist or a sign that his fans are evil rape apologists and just want him to be this hot love interest who never did any wrong. the tag is used to show that aegon isn’t portrayed that way in the story, that the reader will get to read another take on his character, and that the fic writer made a choice. just like the hotd ones did.

[janicekao]

May

The Gods Allow It

Pairing: King Aegon II x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of the series "House Of The Dragon." During a day of sitting on the irone throne and listening to the requests of the people of King's Landing, the young King Aegon sits through it clearly bored and unamused until he lays eyes on a beautiful woman who he has never seen before... A girl who is the daughter of King's Landing’s finest Blacksmith, Lady Tabitha Atkins. Warnings: mideival fantasy, time piece, rough s3x, d0m&femsub, vi0lence, smut, v1rginity taking, mentions of !ncest, fan fiction, br33ding k1nk, praise k1nk, etc. 9438 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -----------------------------------

Our bodies glisten with sweat as I throb inside of her tightening cunt, so very deep in her core that my swollen cockhead brushes against her cervix each time she bucks.

She loves it.

Voice whiny and full of sweet whimpers as she reaches for her climax, biting her bottom lip, and infatuated with how full she feels as she impales her cunny on my every inch.

I've lost count of the days since she's been here, and I have no hopes of her ever leaving.

Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing, daughter of Sir Joseph Atkins, the town's finest Blacksmith.

The absolute love of my life.

———

A far cry from a year ago or so, I sat the iron throne listening to all of King's Landing who came to their King with requests. My people were starving, poor, and in need of help. Families complained of starvation, farmers wished to be paid for their livestock that are eaten by our dragons, and the Blacksmith wanted payment for the many swords he slaved over hot fires to make my knights gear and weapons for war.

I honestly couldn't have cared less.

An elder half sibling of mine believes that she is the rightful heir to the iron throne, and because of this... War is now upon us.

I sat there that day lying to the faces of my people.

"You will be reimbursed for all that you have contributed for the sake of the crown." I yawned nonchalantly. "I, as King Aegon Targaryen II of all the seven kingdoms promise to take care of King's Landing first, after our victory in the Battle of Throne."

I knew it wasn't true, but I still said it. I am the King of Westeros, I'll forever take what is needed to protect my rights to the throne regardless of who may be affected in the long run. My dragons will be fed, and my men will be prepared for battle if any means necessary... The crown always comes first.

My dishonesty to the faces of the loyal people of King's Landing became easier said than done when the face of the Blacksmith, Joseph Atkins came along with the presence of an angel...

I lost focus. I wasn't able to lie any further, at least not to him and his company.

Each time this Blacksmith visits the throne with requests, he is covered in soot from working tirelessly near the scorching flames that burn and shape his metal... That day, the girl beside him was covered in it as well. Clearly a relative and I needed to know more about her.

Who was the girl with the shimmering brown flesh, long legged with full lips, and a breathtaking scowl?

I needed to know.

Sir Joseph Atkins began to speak about the reimbursement he required for the perfectly crafted steel he had produced for the crown's army.

I interrupted him without a single care of the words escaping his tongue. "Who is she?"

"Her?" He asked as I nodded with haste.

The gentleman stood with a proud chest. "May I present to you Your Grace, my daughter. Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing. My greatest gift from the Gods, and my trusty assistant in the Steel shop."

"Tabitha."I repeated the name with a wide smile as the word melted from my mouth like delicious cream... Gods, what a sight to see. The Hall quaked with gasps as I stood from my very own throne and bowed lightly to the tawny princess that needed to be mine.

An enchanting furrow in the brow from the nerves that fell upon her, clearly afraid of me, being that I am the King. She had obvious ill thoughts about me and my character... However gracefully, she bowed in return anyway.

It was unfair the way that she was making me feel. How much she made me come out of my usual corrupt comfort; I became determined to make her feel it too. I wanted her to be just infatuated with me as I suddenly was with her.

"The King's hand will prepare your payment, Sir Atkins." I immediately gave way to anything that would make Tabitha happy. If it was to pay her father for his labor, then so it be. "The crown appreciates your loyalty and skill."

A smile and a breath of fresh air released from the man. "Thank you my King!"

"—Under one circumstance." I interrupted. "Leave here Lady Tabitha. I'd like to familiarize myself with other youth of King's Landing... I am the King, as well as a young man."

Man to man, Sir Atkins knew exactly what I wanted with his daughter. He froze with an uneasy scowl, knowing good and well that if he left his child here with me, she'd be spent across my cock by nightfall.

But I had no plans to harm her. I gave my word. "Just for a small gathering. Lady Tabitha will be well taken care of here at the Red Keep. She will be returned, unharmed."

The elderly gentleman turned to his daughter. He waited for her permission even if it meant that denying me of her could have caused him his own head. Proud, and brave, Tabitha nodded in agreement. She wanted no issues with the crown... eager to do very much anything if it meant the safety and dignity of her family.

That evening for supper, an extremely long table divided us. Tabitha at the end, and I at the head of the dining table. The chambermaids had turned her prettier than a portrait, yet she still sat unhappy.

"Your Grace, you promised a gathering." She hesitated. "However, it is only you and I dining together."

Clearly I withheld the full truth... But why else would I had invited others when it was only her who captivated my attention, my entire being.

"The servants do not count?" Gently, I teased and waited for a laugh that never came.

"No, your Grace." Tabitha cleared her throat and frowned. "They do not."

I began to grow tired of her attitude. It was clear that she was not keen of her King and that she did not plan to make this evening any less difficult.

Being a considerably spoiled young man, it fumed me how bad I wanted her to accept me. As the King, I could do with her as I pleased. If I wanted to, I didn't need to wait a second more for her to embrace me, I could have taken her however I wanted.

Her dress enticed me. The chambermaids had dressed her in a low neckline and in my favorite shades... Colors that danced across her dark skin like velvet.

Although I smiled, my thoughts grew more wicked each second.

So used to women and whores falling at my feet and being far less difficult, my mind turned into impatient mush. My cock ached to be taken out of its confinements. I imagined masturbating over her until I could watch my seed drip down her face, breasts, and dinner plate.

... But instead, I sighed and kept my cuth. "Tell me about yourself." I insisted on conversation.

She paused.

"I am the daughter of a Blacksmith." Uninterested with where this could take us, Tabitha sighed as she began. "I take pride in taking care of my family, my community, and especially my younger siblings."

"How lovely!—" I went on to sweetly boast about her caring nature when I became rudely interrupted.

Tabitha continued abruptly. "—These are the very same people who starve daily as your loyal peasants. Yet, we still fill our every day catering to the likes of you, Your Grace. Giving our everything to the crown when we can hardly fill our own bellies. Livestock that our people raise big and strong for years just to be swallowed whole by your God awful dragons when that meat could be salted and last man an entire year of keeping King's Landing fed and surviving."

"People, children are sick and dying!" Tabitha shouted. "Eating fish from the surrounding waters for their every course because it is the only thing that is plentiful around here! Well, I can assure you one thing Sir... Guts from a fish is far from the daily nourishment that YOUR people need to survive..." That is what I can say about myself, Your Grace. I am your subject, not your friend."

"WINE." She demanded and the servants fetched it quickly.

She began to feed like a swine piglet. Gulping down rich wine and licking the bones of her lamb chops clean.

She was hungry, and she hated me.

The disrespect was unfathomable. I began to flame red, never had ever been spoken to in such way in my entire life. I couldn't tell in the very moment if I wanted to kill her, or fuck her senseless.

But what I did know is that I couldn't say my piece from far across the table.

I rose to my feet and the servants began to gasp. I shouted for their dismissal and Tabitha tensed when we became very alone in the dining hall.

She was the naughtiest thing I'd ever laid eyes on and I couldn't wait to take a bite.

Sitting in a guest chair an inch away from her, I could smell Tabitha's fear. But if you were to look at her grimace... you'd have not an idea that she was afraid. I was pissed, but Gods... If she wasn't fit for a Queen, I wouldn't know who else could be.

"I welcome you to the Red Keep as an honorary guest, and you sit before me spitefully accusing me of things that are far over your head, Lady Atkins do you have a death wish?" I bit through my teeth as my face inched closely towards hers.

"I am honest." She gulped.

"And honesty will get you killed." I snapped.

My eyes enjoyed being able to watch her so closely.

"Look at you, complaining of being starved with not an inch of extra room in this dress!" I taunted her as I pinched at her deliciously full thighs.

Tabitha squealed at my touch, she swatted my hand as tears swole in her eyes. "I was forced here!"

"Forced?" I sarcastically chuckled. "Ah yes because you seem to be so mistreated with wine dripping down your lips that is more expensive than you are."

Her jaw ticked with rage. "I don't have a price, I cannot be bought. I am not a whore.

"I never expected you to be." I frowned, aggravated at her lack of eye contact as my fingers graced her chin and turned her gaze back to me.

"Your chamber maidens bathed me." Her voice became weak. She was embarrassed that I had called on her in front of her father, in front of all of King's Landing.

I loved how she stared at me for answers... Tabitha's large brown eyes swallowed me up as her tears continued to swell. "They styled my hair, forced me into expensive garments, and shaved my cunt bare."

A chill down my spine made me shudder at the thought of her being so soft and silky beneath her dress.

"I am here to be your whore, am I not?" She asked impatiently.

"No." I refused. "Not my whore, but you are here to be mine, yes. To be my whore I would've bedded you by now, without a care of getting to know you. When I met you today I became captivated by you, I want you to feel the same."

She immediately rolled her eyes with a rude ill-mannered scoff.

"Play immature games if you want to, Tabitha... But never in your life have you come to the iron throne with your father." I dug further into her true intentions as her chest rose and fell in anticipation. "Now what made you come this morning on the day of requests, hm? Answer me!Is it because you had a request yourself? Or maybe you wanted to see the rumored usurper king in the flesh? No— you came to let me lay eyes upon you, so you could play with my heartstrings. I believe you knew what you were doing all along, what do you think?"

...

Tabitha gulped, she turned away once more from my gaze as she continued with her supper. "I think perhaps you should leave my space and try the pudding, aren't you starved?"

"More than most." I snarled. "But not for fucking pudding."

Swiping the table clean, Tabitha's tray of royal cuisine met the ground.

I grabbed hold of her, lifting her onto the tabletop as I searched frantically beneath her skirt.

She gasped, immediately forgetting formalities as she shouted out my first name. "Aegon!"

"Hush." I demanded. "Let your King take care of you."

I ridded her small clothes as if I was a child unwrapping candy. I pressed her chest backwards, forcing her to lay against the table as the skirt of her dress crept above her waist.

Gods, she was as prepped and bare as she had promised. Between her thighs glossed over with the arousal she had been denying and her mound was bountiful like a deliciously ripe peach.

My mouth attacked at her without letting a drop of her nectar go to waste. The kisses I laid upon her clit made her jolt and whimper in desperation.

Tabitha's hands pushed away at me to the point of having to force her wrists to the table as I devoured my meal. I allowed her sweet digits back when they began to comb and grip lightly through my platinum-white Targaryen tresses.

Her moans were sounds of gratification... All I've ever wanted was someone, anyone to wish me a job well done. Commend me of my efforts and assure me that I was indeed a good boy. "Is it good for you?"

Her choked sobs were enough of an answer... Her flesh flushed red as her pussy began to pulse and I knew she would soon climax across my lips.

Tabitha's hips began to grind across my face as she reached urgently for her precipice. Her pleads made her voice crack as the sound of her brain-rot echoed through the dining hall. My thumb circled her pearl as my tongue dipped in and out of her core. She came with a flavorsome cry, I groaned into her pussy and drank her release like a man starved. My tongue soaked her sweet cum up as freshly baked bread does balsamic oil.

My trousers so full of sticky precum and a hard cock, it made me brutish. I lifted Tabitha in my arms bridal style as she lay tiresome and still in shock. I warned her of my plans... I warned her that I was to take her to my chambers and we were to spend the night... the coming days... the coming weeks and months with nothing but earth shattering sex. I was to take her maidenhead, and make her part of the Red Keep, part of me.The argumentative minx had not one issue with what I had informed her with. She no longer cared to save herself for a husband because in that very moment, I was just as much hers as she was mine.

I carried her out of the dining hall with orders to the Hand of the King of what I wanted completed.

"Have the cooks prepare the same supper and have it delivered to the Atkins residence." I demanded. "Make sure it's enough for them to share with whomever they may desire."

"Anything else Your Grace?" I was asked.

I stared in the round brown irises that won my heart over.

"Aye." I nod. "Gather the council by morning-fall. King's Landing is starving, their King needs to mend their trust. Rationing... will be the subject matter of discussion."

Otto Hightower, My Grandsire and King's Hand stared at me with looks of daggers... I could see that he saw me as a foolish King, changing plans and making differences for the likes of a woman... but I couldn't have cared less.

With the title of being King of Westeros, anything is possible and everything is in my hands.

Hightower bowed. "I will relay your message to the council, Your Grace."

I looked towards Tabitha and the scowl that stained her face was finally gone... Now left with a magnificent smile that seemed to be gifted by the Gods themselves.

Our lips met as we journeyed to my chambers. As I stole her maidenhead, she stole my heart. We drank, we laughed, I even found that we shared the very same night of birth under the summer season and full moon twenty-two years ago. She was me, and I was her. Finding her was the sense of completeness I had been looking for my entire life.

———

"Aegon! I hate when you do that." Tabitha complains. She takes notice to my quiet daydreaming as she continues to ride me as if I was saddled. "Focus on me, baby."

I chuckle sweetly as I find my bottom lip bitten between my teeth, refocusing on her tight cunny that chokes my manhood and drains my stamina. "I always am focused on you my love. I found myself reminiscing on the day that I made you mine. Nearly a year today, an approaching anniversary... Thoughts help me holdout a bit until you have reached yours, now it's my turn."

"Ah yes... The day I met you upon the iron throne. I should've known trouble was amongst me." Tabitha softly flirts.

"I waited." She begins to smile, whispering against my lips. "Wanted to reach ecstasy, together."

"Mmm." I hiss lightly, adoring her wildly. "Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing... I love you with every being of my body."

"Then show me." She insists.

...

I do as I'm told.

As I lay Tabitha onto her back, my hand slips across the soft skin of her belly, through the full globes of her breast, and to her throat where I begin to choke lightly. Her legs spread, inviting me into her warmth and it only takes a second for me to find my flesh sheathed in the depths of her core.

I find a rhythm that is rough and commanding and I watch her lips fall open with strangled gasps. Tabitha attempts at a wiggle to separate us. Wanting me to allow her a momentary second of rest before she melts into the sheets. However, overly dizzy for her sex, I refuse the escape... pressing my heavy body further against hers and deepening my impale. The walls of her cunt contract against my cock, I begin to feel numb and see stars as my words stammer dumbly. Gods... Her sex could rise a dead man from the ground, and I'm the only one lucky enough to have had it.

"Fuccckk." A groan escapes the depths of my throat as I nearly give in and spill into her.

Tears of passion fill her luscious lash line and she can only squeak out soft sounds as her digits grip the sheets beneath us.

Licking my lips like a hungered man, I begin to grin as I watch her in her blissful pleasure. I cup Tabitha's face and kiss her tenderly as the kisses create faint bruises down her neck and soon down her chest where I begin to enjoy the swirling of my tongue across her aroused buds.

"You looked incredible wrapped around my cock." I softly appreciate her breathtaking beauty.

I roll my hips in a speeding passion as my cockhead knocks impatiently at her g-spot. "Aegon— please."Tabitha weeps out a beg as her nails find way into my skin.

Her pussy sops for me, creating lewd music that echoes within the walls of my chambers.

My mouth hangs ajar as I moan out worships for her.

"Gods!" I complain. "My sweet girl, does that feel good?"

She nods immediately. "So good— so good, Aegon."

My pounding weakens as I feel the need to erupt. I grab Tabitha's full hips, dimpling them with the strength of my fingers as I stretch her with the full length of my cock... I bottom out into her until my sack is flushed against her cunt and begins to drain. Tabitha dissolves into pleasure as my hot seed spickets into her core while she reaches her peak.

I expel constant grunts, body jerking each time my cum stutters a bit of its load out of me until I am left limp and soaked in a mess of our love.

Tabitha's eyebrows furrow as she powers her way through an intense climax, legs shaking until the thrill passes by her. Her chest rises and falls as she draws in breath, soon beginning to chuckle in disbelief of the moment that we have shared together..

"Gods!" She pants sweetly. "Again, Aegon?"

I chuckle gently as I place a gentle peck to her lips. I begin to peel her knees further apart. My lip catches in between my teeth as my pupils dilate, watching closely at the foray I caused upon her pretty little mound.

"Let me watch it leak out of you." I insist as my body heats again with arousal while I  watch my pearly spend seep out of her pretty flower.

The corners of her lips begin to quirk upwards, teasing me gently as she pushes the semen out of her core and let it seep down her thighs.

My jaw clenches, eyes rolling back into my skull. "Fuck that's good, and you my dear— are terribly delicious and absolutely evil."

Tabitha finds her way to my chest, having me to lay backwards in the pillows and wrap my arms around her as she listens in on my heartbeat.

She sighs gently. "What's evil, is having to drink another of your Maester's tea."

"Aegon." Tabitha begins to pout over the awful medicinal herbal tea used to prevent or abort pregnancy. "If I am to drink another Moon-Tea, I think I'll die."

My hands gently comb through her wild mane of jet-black curls, full and thriving in its natural state after another day of addictive fucking. "So don't drink it... give me child, my dear."

She immediately lifts her head from my chest with a scorning frown. "You've gone mad."

"I haven't." I insist. "What will come of us? How will we create a stain, evidence of our love?"

"Aegon." She refuses the thought. "You and I cannot marry. You must marry a high-born, not the daughter of one of your subjects. Our children would be Targaryen bastards!"

"Yes!" I continue to plead. "Haven't you given it thought? My Targaryen hair, your tawny skin, and big brown eyes... the most handsome children in all of Westeros. They'll have it all. They will speak High Valyrian and ride their own dragon... Tabitha, please."

"Aegon, don't begin with this." Her refusal is unbending. She begins to dress in her nightgown, giving my voice not another thought. "With your hair, it would be clear that my children are Targaryen bastards. You'd be looked down upon as a whoring King, and I'd be looked down upon— well, as the whore!"

I scoff. "So we will wrap their hair in garment in the eye of the public if we must! It does not matter Tabby, they will be protected always and live under my roof as Princesses and Princes."

"You asked me if I have ever given it thought..." She rejoins me on the bed with a gentle hold to my hand. "I've thought about it every day since we've met, Aegon. Don't you think that I would love to be your Queen and have your children? It would be my dream to have a family with the man that I love. But sadly, that's all it will ever be, a dream.We both knew the risks of being together. We recognized that our relationship would be kept forever secret and we still went on about it. Aegon, please don't make this any harder than it already is."

Dying to continue the conversation, I even begin to imagine her womb full with my seed. I'd be sure to have the servants wait on her hand and foot... She'd wear the prettiest gowns, and her essence would make the Red Keep the most beautiful it's ever been as she would fill it with her fertility and grace.

However, the tears in her eyes pain me more to see... I can't bear to stress the situation any longer.

...

"Let's have a night of rest." I smile softly. "Only sweet dreams for thoughts."

I softly wipe Tabitha's fallen tears as she nods in agreement.

Becoming meek and childlike, she dissipates into my arms as I blow out the candles that light our chambers, and I tuck her into the satin sheets.

"Goodnight." I coo faintly. "No more worries my love, rest now."

———

Morning light stings my eyes as they begin to open, I find my dearest Tabitha above me, already dressed for the day.

I sit up from bed with playful and light jester. "Out of the many hours of morning sex that we should be having, why are you already dres—"

My words are cut short with a cruel slap across the face.

My ears ring from the forceful strike and when they finally stop, I find my lover absolutely distraught and in tears...

As my hearing comes back, my heart aches from the way that she sobs. "Tabitha?" I instantly whimper.

"You vile— sick, sick, man." The words grit through her teeth and I worry frantically for what it is that she has found out.

"YOU FILL ME WITH YOUR DISGUSTING SEED!" She begins in thunderous shouting. "You speak of a life where we are to have children together, when you have already fucked two inside of your own sister!"

My blood runs cold knowing that she knows my darkest regret... "I need to explain."

"I awaken early on the search for your Maester! For him to begin a batch of the Moon-Tea, and that is when I overheard it all!" Tabitha begins to lose color... her brown skin paling from heartbreak. "Your mother, the Maester, and your seventeen year old sister Helaena! She was lying on her back! Having an inspection by the Maester beneath her skirt when she was congratulated by him and your mother for bearing your twins! They congratulated her as the bloody Queen of Westeros!"

"Tabitha, damn it!" I spazz and my mind begins to spin with shame and anger. "The nerve of you to slither around your King's castle! Eavesdropping in on business of not your own!"

"FUCK YOU!" She spits. "I am so disgusted that I can hardly breathe without the need to vomit! Not only have you lied, withheld from me that you had already found your Queen and have been married! But for the sake of the Gods, SHE IS YOUR BABY SISTER!"

"DON'T YOU THINK I AM ALREADY DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF ENOUGH?" I stand to my feet to argue and my height frightens Tabitha enough to flinch at the tone of my voice. "I had no say in this Tabitha! Helaena and I hated the thought but it was pushed amongst us by the council! By our mother! They did not want just a high-born queen! They wanted the bloodline strictly Targaryen! This was forced upon us, Tabby!"

Tabitha's delicate hand graces her forehead as the other places on her stomach as she begins to feel even more ill. "You bedded your sister...Relieved yourself of pleasure inside of her..."

"Hear me when I tell you that it will only ever be once..." I tremble as I notice the love drain from in between us. "I was promised that giving the title of Queen to my sister and giving her an heir to the throne on our wedding night, that you and I would never have to separate... I was promised your very own knights of protection for you and your loved ones and that you all could live permanently here in the Red Keep. You are to by my only lover! Helaena maybe my Queen, but she and I view each other as only siblings!"

I clench my eyes tightly shut, reminiscing on the night I was forced to take my sister's virginity. I drank myself silly with wine just to bear it, and poor Helaena and I stuck it through for the sake of the crown.

"Gods! So now I am to blame for this incestral breeding!?" Tabitha scoffs. "You are absolutely sick in your head Aegon! I never would have agreed to this! EVER!"

As I step closer to her to beg for her forgiveness, Tabitha steps back.

"I must leave now..." She gulps. "I cannot— I cannot be apart of this, the Gods aren't happy."

"I love you." Tears begin to drop down my face and I stutter like a child being disciplined. "I need you. You cannot leave! I can— I can fix this."

I plead aimlessly. "I am the King of the seven kingdoms. You will never need nor want for anything regardless of your status here in the castle. You're mine."

She ignores me...

Tabitha wipes her tears and grabs for her cloak to leave the Red Keep through the secret exit.

Without a thought of what to do, I become a mad man... using my title and authority to get what I want.

"I AM YOUR KING!" My jaw ticks as I shout. "YOU ARE TO DO AS YOU ARE TOLD OR ELSE! YOU ARE MINE, TABITHA. I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF. I DEMAND YOU TO SIT DOWN AND GO NOWHERE UNLESS TOLD OTHERWISE!"

...

Tabitha freezes with tears and hatred burning within her eyes.

"Fine." She gulps, suddenly stripping out of her garments and lying back in bed. "As you make clear a million times a day or more, you are King Aegon Targaryen of the seven kingdoms. If you shall want me your Lordship, there is nothing I can do other than to continue being yours. But I'll have you know, from this day on I will never love you the same."

"Tabitha, please."I beg softly for her to stop the act of kissing loyally at my arse like the rest of King's Landing... I just want her back, I want everything the way that it was.

"Will you have me, or am I free to be dismissed your Lordship?" She lays on the unmade bed, still and avoiding eye contact.

"YOU WILL STAY!" I explode.

"Yes, Your Grace." She continues calmly. "I am ready to be used whenever you are ready to use me."

"What are you doing? Get up!" Her act of a common whore aggravates me further.

She continues anyway. "I am your loyal servant, Your Grace. Do as you please with my body."

"Get up!" My voice breaks as I continue to argue one-sidedly. "Quit with this foolishness. Your taunting is unacceptable!"

"Tabby, call me Aegon." I beg sheepishly. "Baby, I am your Aegon."

She continues robotically. "Whatever you ask, Your Grace."

I fully erupt. Grabbing hold of the full steel canister of wine, I throw it across the chambers until it hits the wall... crumbling stone to the ground from the force.

The throw startles Tabitha, she breaks out of her act and tearfully attempts to run past me. I grab hold of her wrists, pulling her into me as I beg for another chance. "Tabitha! Please! Please stop, I need you."

"Get away from me!" She fights senselessly, bruising herself as she tries to pull from my grasp.

The large double doors of my chambers open... The racket causes my mother Alicent to intervene. "What is going on in here!?"

"Mother!" I demand. "Out of my chambers!"

...

She watches upon the love of my life as if she was a stinky street harlot.

"You should leave." She speaks to Tabitha. "The King's Queen will be visiting her husband shortly."

"You mean his sister." Tabitha quickly bites.

...

"Aegon, I'll have your whore's tongue for less." Mother begins to boil over from the unfamiliarity of Tabitha's sharp tongue.

"No worries, Your Grace." Tabitha wipes her tears, bowing to my mother respectfully as she laces the last loop in the corset of her dress. "I was just leaving."

"Tabitha!" Although still bare and only wrapped in a sheet, I still attempt to chase after her as she exits. However, my mother stops me...

"It's for the best." Alicent's hand stops me at the chest. "A King who is at war over his throne does not have time to worry about the heart of a common girl. Aegon... You are King now. The responsibility of the crown is in your hands, act like it."

I watch my mother with pure hatred...

So quick to worry about the well-being of the crown, and never once the wellness of her children.

If she hadn't brought me life, I would have had the guards take her head many moons ago.

"Your chambermaids are on the way to dress you, my King." Mother smiles maniacally and caresses my face with her soft hand. "You must sit the throne today for King's Landing's requests... They need their King, Aegon. You'll have to let her go."

Let her go?

Easier said, than done.

Together, we watch Tabitha run out of the trailing hallways of the Red Keep.

Her image and the sound of her footsteps become smaller the further that she runs... And the further that she runs, the more prominent my heartache grows.

Mother stares in disgust. "She never had the strength of a Targaryen anyways... it wasn't meant to be."

Doing as told... I dress for the day as mother leaves.

Although I am escorted to the hall of the iron throne to answer the requests of my subjects, my eyes continue to fill with tears. I push them back, needing to find strength for my people. But, how am I to answer requests, when there is no one to answer my own?

Who is there to request a plead from a King? Perhaps the Gods...

Perhaps the Gods will fulfill my one and only request, to bring back the love of my entire being... My forever lady, Tabitha Atkins.

———

Three years later

I wake up in absolute agony, shouting for more Milk of the Poppy to dull my pain.

Ever since my incident, I tend to sleep all day due to the medicines given to me by the Maester. As I sleep, I either dream about the love that I lost years ago, or I dream about the terrible events of my most recent near death experience.

I've made awful decisions in my short term of being King, but nothing as bad as riding my dragon into a battle while being inebriated off of too much wine.

I had a death wish... A foolish one at that. But tired of living a life of depression, loveless, and never taken seriously... the mind will drive you to do insane work.

I may be the face of the crown, but my council and my mother feel that my ideas are idiotic and simple... They feel that I was never fit to rule, and that I should sit quietly and be useless, let them take control of the rulings of Westeros.

First they take a man's love, and then they take his power. What could be next now that they've taken it all?

I became careless with the things that I do... I decided to get wine drunk and I rode my poor dragon Sunfyre into the battle at Rook's Rest... A battle I had no business being at. Somehow I survived it... Third degree burns laced across my body, yet I am still here.

But the worst part of it all is knowing that the reason Sunfyre and I were burned to the ground was all out of one person's spite.

My own brother... Prince Aemond...

My last memory before everything went black for months was Aemond's dragon Vhagar opening his gullet of fire after Aemond's command.

"Dracarys." He attempted to kill me with this command.

I realized then how much I have absolutely no one in this life... Aemond, just like our mother Alicent, thirsty and jealous for the crown to the point of sabotaging their own blood.

My brother expected me to die that day. He expected to permanently become the King, but because I survived, he only fills my place on the throne momentarily...

As I become better, I still fear for my life. If he tried to kill me once, he is sure to try it again.

I spent my days childishly being my brother Aemond's first bully... and now I am reaping what I sewed. But as dangerous as he is, and the things that he is capable of doing... I could never trust the innocent people of Westeros in his hands, especially not with Tabitha Atkins and her family still living here in King's Landing.

With Aemond in charge, there will be war and there will be blood... Not just bloodshed from each fighting side, but deadly war crimes to Westeros' innocent subjects.

If all things are out of my control in this very moment, the least I can do is get word out to Lady Tabitha... thus I owe to her.

Grand Maester Orwyle enters into my chambers with more Milk of the Poppy, but being that there are things to be done... I cannot take it.

"Maester..." I begin. "No more Milk of the Poppy."

"But for your pain, Sire?" He frowns.

"I understand." Even the small things like gulping down my throat or speaking pains me in this day. "But my mind must stay sharp, I have a task I need you to complete with the guards... I need it done discreetly."

"Yes, Your Grace." Maester Orwyle nods. "Whatever you may need."

As I lay here, I begin to create a plan. I order the Maester to discreetly bring Lady Tabitha Atkins to my chambers here in the Red Keep. I ask him to bring help if needed be, knowing that Tabitha could good and well stubbornly refuse my command... I demand that if the girl attempts do dismiss Maester Orwyle, that he will instruct the guards to take her from the residence by force. Speaking with her is a dire need of mine not knowing what may happen in the future with my brother in charge as Prince Regent.

Maester Orwyle begins to leave with haste...

I stop him once more... Suddenly I become insecure with my injuries, wondering how my deformities look being that I haven't seen my reflection since my injuries were fresh.

"Maester." I gulp. "My skin... Am I able to even take a visitor, or am I still leaking of pus and absolutely hideous?"

Having to ask a question like such is the hardest thing I have ever done... I never in my life expected to ask another man if my flesh was still charred and horrid.

A tear rolls down my face and Maester Orwyle kindly takes my hand... "Your Grace..." He assures. "Your incident was months ago, although you may be forever disfigured, your skin has healed, and your heart is still gold. If the Lady ever truly cared for you, Sire... The last of her worries will be of your appearance."

...

His words stick with me... I begin to pray to the Gods that he is right. My only hope is that a moment within my gaze is enough to help Tabitha look past my monstrous image... Enough to let her hear me out for just a second of her time.

As I lay in bed, battered and bandaged, I continue to wait to see Tabitha's presence.

Three years have passed and I continue to think about her daily... I wonder if she has changed any, I wonder if she still hates me, I wonder if she's happy.

After many hours, my chamber doors finally open and Tabitha hurries in with haste. Tears melt down her cheeks as she crawls in beside me in bed and she lays on my scarred chest.

The weight of her body pains me a bit, yet I've never been more grateful to feel a pain in my life.

"Your Grace..." Maester Orwyle grins. "The guards were not necessary, when Lady Tabitha heard word of you being alive, she nearly beat us all here."

I immediately begin to sob. I wrap my arms around Tabitha tightly and Maester Orwyle leaves us to our long embrace.

Her curls smell of smoke and fire, clearly having been working in her father's steel shop. I inhale her missed scent deeply.

"I apologize Your Grace that I am not put together." Tabitha gulps. "I have soot and ash all over me. I've spent the day working with my father... There has been an order from Prince Aemond and the crown for a hundred swords by the end of the week or my father will be hanged!"

"Don't apologize." I insist. "You look glorious. Pretty as the very day that I met you at the iron throne. Fear not of your father's death... I'll be sure that it will not happen."

"Tabitha..." I gulp. "Why were you so willing to accept my invitation? I believed that you hated me for so long..."

"I did." She admits. "But we have had years apart, Aegon. I was able to mature and came to realize that you and Helaena were victims of something horrible... Victims of the unjust treatment of the crown's council, and forgive me for saying, but— the unjust treatment of your mother as well!"

"I know... I know."The thought of what the council forced upon my sister and I still haunts me to this day.

"I was disgusted... even a bit jealous the day that I left the Red Keep." Tabitha continues. "But what I regret the most is not standing up for you, my King. The news spread like wildfire through the streets of King's Landing... We saw your dragon, Sunfyre's lifeless body dragged through town and the rumor was that you were dead as well. When your Maester found me with the news of you being alive and wanting to see me, my feet never stopped running the cobblestones of the city until I was here in your very chambers... being able to see you for myself."

I begin to hate the way her eyes examine my body, I no longer look of the man she once knew. "I'm hideous."

"You're brave." She cups my face. "You are heroic and you survived a dragon's fire... A death that no man has ever escaped! King Aegon, stories and songs will be sang about you for centuries."

Tabitha smiles sweetly. "Cry not, Your Grace. You are a legend, and you are still here in the land of the living."

"Shall we change our thoughts to joy?" She asks with an enchanting giggle. "As I was led to your chambers, I heard youthful laughter in the courtyard. I assume they were your children? Your twins, a boy and a girl, yes?"

I pause... Not sure of how to relay the bad news out of my own mouth.

"At one time, yes..." I begin. "But as this battle for the throne continues, a criminal was sent to the Red Keep... As my son, my heir, slept in his crib... he was beheaded. My three year old child was murdered in his own bed by our enemies... His life, drug through the dirt and taken in war crimes to prove a point! To one up me for the throne."

...

Tabitha's eyes immediately glass over, turning pale and frozen with shock. "Gods... Aegon... I'm— I'm so sorry."

I softly refuse her pity. "I've done my share of grieving. I've cried until I dehydrated myself and my sister has not left her chambers since the day that it happened..."

I groan in pain as I sit up in bed with urgency "But this is what was so important for me to tell you. Dear Tabitha, the war has gotten out of hand. I believed that I was only fighting a half sibling for my throne, but it seems that I am fighting my full-blooded brother as well."

I continue to explain. "Tabby, in the battle at Rook's Rest my own brother Aemond is who burned me to the ground with his dragon... I realized then that every beating heart around me wants what I have. For the throne, there is no love lost... they will attempt to kill me for it, weaken me by killing the ones that I love most! After my boy was taken from me, I began to think of who else my heart beats for that my enemies could injure me with... My heart only is full for my children, and for you.A woman who time could not even stop me from loving."

"Tabitha, you're in imminent danger." I finally am able to warn her. "I called for you here today, knowing that my brother is out of the Red Keep running an errand... It was the only chance that I had for him not to see you."

Her head spins with all that I have to say... So much information that her and the rest of King's Landing have been kept from knowing all this time. "Aegon! And you are in danger as well! Your brother tried to murder you and now you still lay within the same walls of the Red Keep as him!? Has he come to you since?!"

"Daily." I admit. "Daily with threats to keep my mouth shut... Threats of keeping me unwell so I can never heal and come back to the throne. I lay in this bed, broken and exhausted... Afraid of every door creak, just awaiting and expecting Aemond to come inside and finish me off."

"Tabitha, I am terrified everyday." My voice begins to tremble. "But what is more frightening is imagining him come after you instead. My brother wants to see me pained and ill. As I lay nearly paralyzed in this bed, I can only imagine the evil he'd commit to break me further down. Aemond would have you captured. He'd bring you to these very chambers to beat, rape, and torture you in front of my very eyes, knowing that I am unable to stand and rescue you."

Poor Tabitha's eyes fill with fear.

"I am to leave King's Landing..." I continue. "A dear colleague of mine, Larys Strong is helping with my escape. He was born crippled, walking with a limp and a cane. He has taken pity on me now that I am crippled as well. Larys and I will escape King's Landing and he will take me to a proper place to heal and be protected from my brother and all who have ill intentions towards me. But the Gods know... I cannot leave this castle without knowing that you have escaped too. I will not leave, until I am absolutely sure that you are safe and out of King's Landing."

She begins to refuse. "My family and I— we cannot leave, Your Grace! We have very little means, we only get by each day by the grace of the Gods."

"The table, first drawer to the left." I interrupt. "Hurry Tabitha, make haste and come back to me."

...

Confusion eats at her before she is able to do as told. Sweet Tabitha sniffs her many tears back, wiping her eyes to see the contents of the drawer. She takes out a small burlap sack filled with coins of gold...

Gold shillings, that I have prepared for her to take.

Her eyes widen at the contents of the sack. "Your Grace, I cannot take this."

"You will." I demand.

"I won't!" Stubbornly, she hesitates.

I snap, drawing in the fullest breaths of air that my wounded lungs can hardly manage; I begin to shout. "Tabitha! Damn you! You will take it and you will flee to safety at nightfall, do you understand!?"

I begin to cough as the shouting drained me of my energy.

"Your Grace..." She cries. "I am not worthy of taking anything from you."

...

Now that we have gone on living very different and separate lives, I hadn't planned to bring up her personal business... But if it will help our cause, then I must.

I sigh. "Do you feel not worthy of my gift, because you're with child?"

Her eyes grow largely once more... She nearly begins to stammer. "Y-Your Grace?"

"Tabitha please..." I reject her lies. "I memorized the every freckle of your body as if it were my favorite poem. You wouldn't think I would notice your glowing skin, full bosom, and womb?"

...

Her head swivels as shame begins to embarrass her. Tears fall down her cheeks as she covers her mouth in shock. "I don't know what to say. Your Grace, I thought I wasn't to ever see you again... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." I plead softly. "I'm not angry, just please, come sit.Tell me of your husband. Does he treat you well?"

She tearfully chuckles, relieved that I am not angered for her moving on without me.

"Yes, my King." Tabitha joins me back onto the bed where my right-side isn't burnt and destroyed. "He's a good man. James Bartholomew of King's Landing... A Fisherman at the ports. We wedded five months ago, and he loves me."

I smile. "How could he not? You are perfect. And in another four more months, you'll be a mother. A fantastic one at that, Lady Tabitha Bartholomew."

"He loves you." I gulp. "But do you love him?"

"I'd like to believe so... But if I am honest with myself and to the Gods, what you and I shared many moons ago, is a love I believe that I'll never see again in this lifetime." Her honesty breaks me apart... Yes, the love that we shared is something we could never find twice.

My eyes wonder at her charming baby bump. "May I?"

Tabby nods in agreement.

Beneath her skirt, my right hand reaches towards her stomach where I begin to feel the child's kick. "The bairn will be strong, I sense a little lad. I can already feel his strong presence and movement."

Tabitha blushes sweetly... Her adorably round cheeks blush and swell into large red apples.

I feel sorrow as I begin to wish the child was mine... I can't help to think about the many opportunities Tabitha had to carry my own child just as beautifully. But sadly, our titles never were to allow it.

I begin to pull away, and my hand slips further down... Beneath her navel I find my digits awfully close to the warmth of her cunt and my breathing begins to shutter.

...

Tabitha gently gulps. "Will arousing you relieve your pain, my King?"

I tighten my eyes closed. "Your sex would make me whole again, Tabitha."

I sigh. "But I can't... I am burnt, disgusting, and alone... I am a cripple. My cock is destroyed, did they tell you that? It burst in the flames like a sausage on a Spit. I can't even piss without it running down my leg." (🤣 Actual quote from the show)

My jaw painfully ticks in irreparable low self esteem. "There is nothing down there to arouse, my love."

...

Tabitha pauses. "Perhaps... your mind?"

Is it even possible to release endorphins without using my cock?

Could it be?

I frown with confused thought. "Perhaps."

My only good eye watches as Tabitha takes her petite hand to my wrist... She guides it between her thighs where I am suddenly able to feel her slick.

Quietly I gasp, never in my life expecting to be able to have sexual romance ever again.

My fingers begin to become slippery as I tease through her folds...

Lying on the pillow next to me, Tabitha's sweet whimpered breaths dance across my face. I watch as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure and she begins to nibble on her bottom lip.

As I find her pearl, my fingers lightly tap at it as her nails begin to dig in my arm as she holds on to it tightly.

As I slap lightly at her clit, my digits make the sound of quiet splashing. So wet and horny, I would have been buried my cock in her if I still had my staff of flesh.

The intense teasing on her bulb causes her knees to collapse in on each other. "mm'Aegon—" Deliciously she begs. "You'll have to stop that, I'll finish too quickly."

I bite my lip, brain fogging with pleasurable need. "Just keep your knees open, be good for me little one."

Forcing her legs open longer, Tabitha begins to moan and squeak.

I become appreciative that I was able to at least keep one strong arm. A strong arm and hand with fingers to feel her addictive flesh... and sight in one eye to watch her melt over my caress.

My longest two fingers in the middle of my hand plunges into her core, fucking her like a cock and nearly arching her body from off of the bed.

Her walls clench down upon my digits, crushing them as I bang upon her sweet spot.

Tabitha begins to lose herself in enjoyment.

"Gods! Aegon, don't stop. Keep touching me— just don't stop." She dissolves into pleasure.

My heart flutters as if I can still feel my member become erect. I can't find satisfaction until I see her gorgeous face contort into tears from a good cum. "You like that? Fuck, you are absolutely beautiful my love."

I overheat, sweating from the most exercise I've had in weeks yet ignoring my pain to enjoy Tabitha's orgasm for the both of us.

"You'll have to ride it baby." I quickly demand. "Fuck my hand as if it were the last time you'd ever be touched."

Onto her knees, Tabitha sits on my hand as my digits find the insides of her tight cunt once more.

She begins to rock her hips... shouting as I swirl each finger against her cavity and let my fingers prune with her juices.

As Tabitha continues to buck, inching closer to her climax, her large pregnant tits bounce out of the top of her corset as does the curls out of her neat updo.

I beg earnestly for her to hover closer to me... As she leans my direction, my mouth suctions to her full breasts... nipping and sucking at her nipples as I devour her image and sounds, melting the memory of this day into my brain.

I kiss her neck and face as my hand begins to lose its feeling in it, I thank the Gods that my tongue once again has the chance to dance across her skin and I try my hardest not to leave love-bruises on her for her husband to find later.

A slow pace to her hips causes her to sink further down my fingers and my mouth hangs agape as I groan from the feeling of her pussy collapsing in on me.

"Yes..." I coo. "Yes, yes, sweet Tabitha, that is so good."

Twitching as her orgasm peaks, I notice her draw a breath in and feel the dire need to catch her exhale into my mouth. I swing my injured left arm to the back of her head and force her lips against mine, inhaling her expressive explosion and swallowing her choked sobs and the yummy cracks in the tone of her voice.

"Perfect." I worship. "—Just perfect."

Tabitha catches her breath, lightly smiling as our gaze meets and watching me devour her sticky nectar from off of my fingers. We moan in an overly satisfied kiss, sharing the sweet taste of her explosion.

I capture all of her beauty as I tuck her curls back into place and protect her virtue as I cover her bust back into her corset, easing the burlap sack of gold beside her breasts where no one shall find it.

Seeing her with my gold brings me joy, I could even die peacefully knowing that the gold will keep her and her family forever out of poverty.

My sweet girl's eyes begin to water. "Aegon—" She begins words that could only feel like a coming goodbye now that our time is running so short.

"Shhh." I softly hush her. "Just lay with me."

Regardless of my ugly scars, Tabitha lays her head against the skin of my chest... We enjoy the moment together, intwining our fingers as we hold hands... something we spent a many romantic night doing during our year together.

"Your Grace?" Maester Orwyle soon interrupts our nestle with the worse news. "It is time, Your Grace. There has been word that Aemond and his dragon Vhagar are nearing King's Landing. He is home early from his excursion. If I am to get the girl home safely, I must do it now."

...

My heart shatters, however, I must nod and do what's best for the safety of Tabby and her unborn child.

"Take her." I demand.

The Maester begins gently. "Lady Tabitha, please come with me."

She suddenly refuses. "Aegon, wait. Just another hour or so of conversation?"

I shake my head. "If I could, I would make it a lifetime. But I just can't spare it."

Maester Orwyle quietly gestures for the help of my guards.

I notice my knights in steel on their way to steal my lover from my arms, and I watch the pain and fear bubble into Tabitha's eyes.

"Wait!" She argues, pushing the men off of her. "Wait, what?! Damn you, Get your hands off of me!"

The guards tug on her roughly, lifting her off of the bed and to her feet as they pull her away.

Tears and anger begin to cause me more pain and distress than any burn ever could. "BE CAREFUL WITH HER DAMN IT." I begin to cough as I grit the words of my demands out strictly.

"Aegon, wait!" Tabitha begs as her arms are captured by two guards on each side of her. "Please! Just wait! Just hear me now."

"Guards." I demand. "Just—halt. Please, For one moment."

I take in a deep inhale of ragged breath that instantly burns my chest. "I am listening."

"I love you, Aegon." She bursts with a sudden admission.

My heart shatters into pieces. "Tabitha, please—"

"It is true." She interrupts. "I wish I fought harder for you. I love you, just please— just please say it back."

"And tell you what you already know? My dear, I will always love you." I gulp. "Tabitha, I never stopped loving you and I never will..."

...

I watch her gulp... she nods, hearing all that she needed to hear from me before finally being able to leave.

"Will we ever see each other again?"A soft final whimper escapes her tongue.

Gently I smile... "If the Gods allow it."

[witchofthevale]

↷ september '23 fave fic recs!⋆☂｡☽˚.

Okay, okay here we go! This nearly killed me to make, so you better read them.

I'm kidding... I think.

Gentle reminder that what I consider 'fave' is by my own personal tastes and preferences, and you might not agree with them and that's okay! These are very lovely authors you can peruse on your own to find the right fic for you, and there are always the tags + algo. Just because your favourite fic isn't here doesn't mean it's not good; it could be potentially for a variety of reasons (I haven't read it yet, I have just not this month, I don't vibe with that character, etc).

That's what I love about the individuality in fandom and writers— there will always be that right fic from that right author that just hits all your good spots.

This is mine. For the month of September. If you find your next favourite fix here— I'm glad! If not, that's still swell! Hope you find it!

To the writers— thank you for writing such brilliant fics! I struggled setting this up because of how many I enjoyed 💝.

Anyways...

More quick reminders!

This is set chronologically; both by character name and by fic title.

If you are familiar with my blog, you will mainly see HOTD, some TLK, then random characters.

There may be smut! There may be dark fiction! I support and consume both! Please read trigger warnings actively! You are responsible for your own person! Community Labels ruin fandom ecosystems, stop snitching! Ignore or block at bloody will!

There are no series parts here. That is in a different display post that is still being processed lol.

If you see repeated author names, it can be numerous things— mostly, they're just that good, okay? Okay.

These are only for September 2023. I've read about 500+ on this account alone, and would die if I tried to go back before then, sorry. You can still check them out through tag navigation here!

I've also added some of my works that I enjoyed writing for the month, because why not.

Now that's fucking over, I hope you enjoy!

ABRAHAM (Grantchester)

*Untitled Piece by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

AEGON TARGARYEN II

Ceilings by @sapphire-writes

Lemon Cake To My Tea by @darlingofvalyria

Merciless or Ruthless? by @lovelykhaleesiii

Moan for Me by @st-eve-barnes

AEMOND TARGARYEN

A Mutual Feeling of Hate by @fan-goddess

Gelato by @oneeyedvisenya

Hell Hath No Fury @fromforeigntofamiliarity

His Love by @valeskafics

I'm A Fire, And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm by @randomdragonfires

Revolution by @valeskafics

The Black Stag by @darlingofvalyria

Til Death Do Us Part by @asumofwords

Unnerved by @dulcewrites

*Untitled by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

*Untitled by @missglaskin

Vulnerability by @valeskafics

ALDHELM

My Heart by @silens-oro

BILLY TAYLOR

The Perfect Send Off by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

BILLY WASHINGTON

Lonely This Christmas by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

DAEMON TARGARYEN

Ask, and You Shall Receive by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

A Thousand Words by @arabellasleopardcoat

Capital by @arabellasleopardcoat

Curse of Womanhood by @just-some-random-blogger

*Untitled by @barbiedragon

Valyrian Bride by @cryingforlife

HARALD SIGURDSSON

A Political Arrangement by @valeskafics

JACAERYS VELARYON

In Bastards of Blue, Wager in War by @darlingofvalyria

MAEGOR TARGARYEN

Little Lights by @dreamsofoldvalyria

OSFERTH

Lacnunga, Or, Remedy by @assortedseaglass

SIGTRYGGR IVARSSON

Little Warrior by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

SIHTRIC KJARTANSSON

Hours by @valeskafics

It's Urgent Darling by @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

Take No Wife by @valeskafics

TOM BENNETT

A Good Wife by @valeskafics

Rest by @fidelias

VISERYS TARGARYEN III

*Untitled by @barbiedragon

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

Conquerors Reborn by @undertheorangetree | Helaena, Aemond x Reader

El Tango De Roxanne by @valeskafics | Jace, Aemond x Reader

Royalty Fucked by @oorhaellaoo | Baelon, Alyssa x Reader

[overhatedcharacterspoll]

OVERHATED CHARACTERS POLL: Aegon Targaryen II (House of the Dragon)

Feel free to explain your position in the comments or tags, but any harassment, over-the-top fighting, or personal attacks will result in you being blocked. Do not attack real people, be they fans or creators, over fictional characters.