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peachysunrize · 2 months

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Owned ⥃ Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After nearly following Silverwing to Dragonstone mindlessly, Aemond comes back to the keep to posses you, his Queen once more.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! A tad bit dark!Aemond! There is noooooo plot, brainless smut, absolute filth and dirt and fucking, rough Aemond, possessive Aemond, READER IS AEGON’S WIFE!! public sex! Balcony sex inspired by Aemond’s scene s2e7, breeding, no prep, Aemond is mad and angry, very very rough sex, please tell me if I’ve missed something! English isn’t my first language<33

Word count: 1.5k

My other works

A/n: no words. No plot full of porn. Enjoy my freaky folks! Thank you @thekinslayed for feeding my delusions🤭 Reblogs & comments are appreciated🩷 also not a word is beta-ed.

You watch the buzzing city silently from the council room’s balcony, sighing when the large shadow of Vhagar looms over the sight, her screech cutting through the air with force. You can feel the restlessness in her, it must be Aemond who is raging from inside as he guides her outside the city towards the hill where she rests most of the time.

You look down at the castle’s grounds; the chill in the air has become a nuisance for the gardeners, bringing the flowers to their deaths faster than expected, just like how the infection spreads through your husband’s body.

With another sigh, you look at the hill Vhagar lands on, the ground shaking beneath her heavy weight. You know it will be some time until Aemond arrives at the castle, but the idea of him being enraged with how a dragon was claimed and the Blacks now have the upper hand makes you worried; you do not know how to calm the wild dragon within him.

You wait until you crane your neck and see him returning on the horse, barging through the castle gates before he jumps down from the saddle, taking long strides towards the entrance with fury bursting through his veins.

Fiddling with your hand, you hear his rushed footsteps approaching the council room, each step has your heart racing — with what? You do not know, or you do not wish to acknowledge it. After all, this silly little affair that the council has bestowed on you to produce an heir has turned into something more, or at least the numbers you have warmed each other’s beds cannot be counted with fingers anymore.

Your head snaps towards the direction of the door, watching as Aemond walks past the guards, ordering them to go out with bark in his tone, fists clenching and unclenching as he tries to keep his anger at bay, but ultimately fails, and the next thing you know is the heavy chair of the council is being thrown and Aemond slams his fists on the table, groaning in anger and frustration.

“They have more dragons,” he whispers, but you hear the sound of his rough breathing, “they can end this war if I do nothing!”

“My prince, you should—“

“I should what?” He looks up from the marble table, glaring at you with his good eye, “Listen to your advice? Letting my council run the realm while I do fucking nothing?”

“Maybe you ought to put your arrogance aside for once—“

Aemond walks towards you on the balcony, his face hardening as he grabs your jaw tightly, smirking as he sees your lips quivering not in fear, but more in determination to show you are more than what the council wants you to be. And with your pretty thighs rubbing together, he knows how every minor actor of his has you putty in his hands.

“My arrogance, My Queen, is the only reason the walls of this castle haven’t fallen yet,” he leans down, his nose brushing against yours roughly as he whispers against your lips, “Not everyone can sit prettily in a gown and wait for her prince regent to come and fuck an heir inside her.”

“Your arrogance and bruised ego are why they have more dragons than us. You could have kept your ambitions from blinding you at Rook’s Rest, maybe then, our King would be able to fight with you at the battlefield—“ you are cut off by a gasp as he turns you around and bends you over the balcony stones harshly.

Your chest comes in contact with the cold stone and you slap your hand on your mouth as a loud moan erupts from your lips when Aemond presses his entire body to your backside, feeling the hard bulge in his pants rubbing against your covered thigh.

“My ambitions are why your filthy inappropriate fantasies have come to life,” he leans over you, his teeth finding their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, sinking into the flesh without a single thought, “did you not tell me you wish it was me taking you every night instead of my brother? Yes, yes, it was you. Just as it is you who will take my cock until my seed has taken root, and my babe — our future King — licks at your womb.”

You bite down on your fingers hard, grinding your hips back into his crotch as soon as he pushes the layers of your gown up to your waist, chuckling when he sees you shivering the moment your bare heated sex is exposed to the open air.

“We should not be doing this here! What if someone hears?” You ask Aemond, throwing your head back when he swipes his fingers through your wetness, humming before he reaches for the loops of his belt, pulling his pants and breeches down before he grabs his cock, stroking it a few times to full hardness.

“Let them hear, let them hear their queen doing her duty. There is no better way to show them how the heir to the throne was conceived,” he replies, one hand bracing himself on your shoulder blades to keep you completely bent over and unable to move while the other lines up his thick leaking head with your entrance before he enters you swiftly with one smooth stroke.

“Aemond!” You cry out, your fingers falling from your lips as he sets his pace, fucking you recklessly and with abandon, not caring if anyone hears you, or better, sees you.

“Yes, My Queen? Already screaming my name? I almost pity my brother, almost. Gods know if you have not screamed “Aemond” in his ears,” he smirks to himself when you grab the edge of the stone, your body moving with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck—“

“Yes, that’s right—“ he groans, his hand gripping your hip tightly, “you were always mine, fucking mine. Even when you shared his bed, you were thinking of me, wishing and praying that one day you will be owned by me.”

“Yes, My Prince, yes!” You moan, not thinking if anyone would hear you, it did not matter anyway since the words of your affair and marital activities have reached the whores of the Flea Bottom.

“Oh, sweet Queen of mine, I have possessed you; first with words, now with my cock. We only need a babe to seal our bond,” he reaches around your body, finding your pearl in seconds as he starts rubbing quick circles on the nerves, making you arch your back and meet his thrusts as best as possible.

You can only nod at his words, truly succumbing to his and your desires once and for all, the pleasure only adding to his determination to fuck you, and you to show your devotion to him.

“They have more dragons, I have a cunt worth dying for. I guess I shall win this war.”

Suddenly, the doors to the council room open, and the cupbearer drops the jar of wine on the floor when he sees the two of you on the balcony, you moaning and Aemond fucking you.

The sound catches Aemond’s attention immediately, pulling out of you slowly before he waltzes towards the balcony doors, looking the man dead in the eyes and cock out before he demands; “Out, now,” and slams the doors shut.

He comes back, his fingers wrapping around his dick before he sees you straightening your back a little. He has no time for silly little games, his balls are aching and the image of your swollen cunt is too much for him to let you go and find a better place to resume your activities.

“Aemond—“

“Hush you,” he pushes you back down, bending you over once more before he thrusts his cock back into your welcoming cunt, groaning in sync with your shriek as your warmth envelops his length, “just take it, yes, take it. No one can stop me from taking what’s mine. I will fuck you day and night for fortnights to come, I will have you, mark you as mine until everyone smells me on you.”

Even the idea of it has you shaking and trembling as your peak hits you hard and fast, the pleasure rushing through your veins as you gush around his cock. Hands bracing your body on the stones, you cry out his name, drawing Aemond closer to his high.

He follows not long after, grabbing your waist with both hands before he hammers himself into you roughly, stilling his hips harshly against yours, caging your body between his and the balcony stones as he empties his balls inside you, ropes of his cum painting your inside while he throws his head back, chest rising and falling rapidly.

There is no doubt in your head anymore, that Aemond has possessed you in more than one way, more than one place. After all, he will go to war barehanded if he can come back home to you and your heavenly cunt.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x aegon’s wife #dark aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:darkcontent #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #hotd smut

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 23 days

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being aemond’s wife consists of sitting on his lap and stroking his hair while he comes up with battle strategies 💜

also — the way this chair is designed is kinda perfect for riding him…. dont you think?

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theghooligan · 3 months

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daemon and all the ghosts of harrenhall living it up every night:

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floatyflowers · 4 months

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The Fawn|| Dark! House Targaryen men (Maegor, Aenys, and Aegon II) various x Baratheon Reader

Meagor/Aenys

You are the daughter of Orys Baratheon, Rhaenys decided to take you in hopes of marrying you off to Aenys.

But she passed away before the arranged marriage could be annouced.

Aegon decided to keep you as a ward, and have Aenys engaged to Alyssa Velaryon instead

When Maegor was born, when you were six, you enjoyed playing with him, he reminded you of your dolls, that you treat like your babies.

As you grow up with Aenys and Maegor, you fall deeply in love with Aenys and viewed Maegor as your little brother, nothing more.

Aenys was also deeply in love with you.

But you got heartbroken when Aenys married Alyssa, and even though the first thing Aenys did was head to your chambers to claim that he still loves you.

You refused to continue your relationship with him, because you don't wish to ruin his marriage.

Even when Maegor grew up, becoming strong and skillful despite not owning a dragon.

Every tourney, he would win, you would become the queen of love and beauty.

Of course this is a scandal due to Maegor being already married to Ceryse Hightower which enraged many including Aenys.

After Aegon I passed away and Aenys became king, you were assigned with being a cupbearer.

Maegor didn't like that at all, and proposed to take you as a second wife, but you refused.

So he kidnapped you and forced you to marry him in a traditional valerian way, and when Aenys heard about that, he banished his brother.

Aenys dies, and Maegor returns from the banishment with you and his mother to take the throne, even if you hated the idea.

Yet you are too afraid to show refusal now that you are pregnant.

"I did this to save the realm from being ruled under a weak king just like what happened with Aenys, you must understand that I did it for us "

Aegon II Targaryen

You don't like Aegon for many reasons.

His sexual flirting, or his anger issues that comes out whenever you are with another boy.

Aegon pleaded with his grandfather to marry you to him.

And it worked, and you ended up marrying Aegon, despite both of you being young.

Aegon didn't give up his drinking habits but he gave up messing around with women for you.

And as time goes on you find yourself falling in love with him, especially after giving birth to the twins.

You realize that Aegon didn't have the best childhood, his father ignoring his existence while his mother and grandfather were harsh on him.

So, you tried to give him that love, and it worked as he found comfort in your embrace only.

He even began to reflect that love on Jaehaera and Jaehaerys and later on Maelor when he is born.

But when usurped the throne from his sister, though you pleaded with him not to do it, and he wasn't going to do.

But his mother placed fear in his head, the fear of you getting murdered along with the children after his older sister becomes the queen.

But with that choice, you decided to leave to Storm's End with your children in secret.

However the plan failed, as Aegon had spies around, whom inform him of everything inculding your handmaidens.

He locked you up and took the children away from you.

And when you try to apologize to get to see them, Aegon refused.

He even refused when you admitted that you are pregnant.

"After everything I did for us, for our family, you chose to betray me! You are not leaving those chambers until I die"

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #yandere house of the dragon #possessive #wife reader #house baratheon #Baratheon reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #yandere aegon ii targaryen #Yandere Maegor #maegor x reader

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achaoticeternal · 2 years

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bewitched.

AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM!READER

summary: more word has arrived to you regarding your husbands infidelity. as he returns to you, you present him with a choice. word count: 2k warnings: drinking. strong language. angst. adultery. pain. a/n: see end of the piece for author’s note

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

choose your own ending...

— ending 1.

— ending 2.

— ending 3.

— ending 4.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“My lady,” Your chambermaid spoke from the doorway, returning with a fresh pitcher of wine as you had requested, “Should I see the children to bed?”

“Please do,” Your voice was soft, the words fragile in your solemn state.

“It might be best for you to rest, rather than await the return of Prince Aemond.”

Her words were gentle, simply advising you to take care of yourself. But the fires of hurt and betrayal were already lit.

“What makes you believe that I am awaiting my husband?” With words more venomous than you intended, you bid her leave.

At the sound of the door shutting, you stood and moved toward the pitcher and chalice left idly by the fireplace. You poured the deep red liquid and lifted the cup to your lips, taking a generous gulp. The dull burn allowed some relief to your heightened senses. But you also knew that the alcohol only added fuel to your fire.

Rain began to pour over King’s Landing, softly thudding against the windows and stone of the castle walls. Usually, the rain would lull you to sleep, but it seemed the thunder of the skies only spurred you to continue drowning away the ache in your heart. Your eyes flickered over the second chalice that had been placed on the silver tray with your pitcher. It seemed that the servants expected Aemond to return to the Keep tonight. You were not sure if you wish for him to return or for him to drown in the heavy rains that poured from the sky.

As if the fool perfectly timed you, you glanced out the window to see the silhouette of Vhagar descending toward the Dragon Pits. In a drunken frenzy, you pulled the curtain to cover it, instead, the velvet fabric came down at your harsh tug.

The frustration would nearly boil over, but you did not allow the simple issues to push you over the threshold. As the Queen had often advised you, it was important that a lady bite her tongue and keep her composure even when she is by her lonesome. If someone saw the illusion of a proper lady shatter, it would be nearly impossible to recover from. She even revealed to you how she had come by this knowledge, sharing with you the events that occurred the night Aemond became the one-eyed prince.

Swiftly, you moved back toward the fireplace, picking up the parcel that a raven had delivered directly to you just this morning. It appeared blank to the simple eye, but when you hovered the note over the fire, the message revealed itself. The contents of it were simple, but completely shattered something inside of you:

She is with child.

Though the news had shocked you, the existence of the other woman did not. When Aemond and Daeron laid siege to Harrenhal and the Riverlands, word had traveled through the courts regarding the princes bedding other women. At the time, you had bit your tongue, excusing your husband’s infidelity as you convinced yourself it was just something he used to relieve his stress from battlefields.

But even after the marches through the Riverlands were claimed to be successful and at an end, Aemond would sometimes fly off to Harrenhal. He would say that he was just ensuring the hold that the Greens had on the region, yet you never believed his lies.

It was said that Harrenhal was cursed, blood mixed into the stone that built it. You believed the stories true after the great fire took the lives of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin when you were a child yourself. But now a curse had attached itself to your husband and kept him crawling back to the towers of Harrenhal.

The door cracked open, the hinges creaking as he entered, exhaustion painted over his face. Aemond was completely drenched, his hair now scrunched into waves rather than falling perfectly straight. Most of his leather overlayer had been discarded for the servants to see to, leaving him in a black tunic and pants with his riding boots.

It took him a few moments, but Aemond quickly came to realize that you were resting by the fire rather than fast asleep in your shared bed.

“Should you not be sleeping, dear wife?” Aemond called out to you while readying himself to turn into bed.

“Sleep has… escaped me recently,” You replied, eyes remaining on the fire. Only at his words did the nerves begin to spur inside you. How would he react when you told him? What would tomorrow bring? None of it really mattered, you supposed, as long as you didn’t allow your nerves to get the best of you.

Now in his proper bedclothes, Aemond began to approach the fireplace. He noticed the half-empty pitcher of wine, slightly shocked that you were partaking this late at night. Usually, you would reserve yourself to only enjoying wine at dinners or feasts, not in your marriage chambers. His eye flickered to the second chalice that sat empty on the silver platter. His slender fingers reached to grasp it, “Would this cup be for me?”

You turned your head, looking between the pitcher and chalice but never into his eye, “The maid brought it with her, probably as a formality. No one expected you back tonight.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed at the tone you spoke with, and it caught the prince off guard when you returned your gaze to the fire rather than continuing to speak with him. He poured his own chalice with wine and allowed himself to enjoy it. He stayed in place, unwavering from his position as he looked down on you.

The air went still… the taste of the wine began to sour in his mouth. He sensed something to be out of place, yet he could not pinpoint it. Usually, you would be elated to see him, but recently you were far more reserved from your husband. Aemond was not sure if he should be upset or concerned, but did not ponder on the thought too much as he allowed himself to attend to his duties rather than his wife.

With a sigh and a light cough to clear his throat, the prince finally spoke once more, “Come to bed…”

The pause settled again before your soft chuckle hung in the air. Quickly, you stood from your seated position and drowned the remainder of your chalice in one swig. You moved to the table and refilled your cup till the pitcher ran dry. Instead of crossing to your bed, you remained standing, only turned away from the man. This behavior caused Aemond to clench his jaw, subduing his urge to correct such disobedience.

“Will you not come to bed with me?” Aemond summoned you again.

Once more you chuckled at him, not sparing him any sort of look from you. Just the cruel chuckle of your acknowledgment.

“Your husband demands—”

“My husband demands me of nothing,” You interrupted him, “And he would do well to find another bed to sleep in or find himself in tonight.”

At your words, Aemond crossed toward you, attempting to snatch the half-drunk chalice of wine from your hands, “It seems you have overindulged yourself. It would do you well to sleep before—”

“Before what? Before I continue to act out of turn?” With a fierce determination, your fingers clutched down onto the chalice so that Aemond could not separate it from you. Your words dripped with poison, “Or before you return to Harrenhal and bed the whore witch?”

At the mention of Alys, both you and Aemond let go of the goblet at the same time and simply watched it fall to the ground, red liquid covering the tile floors.

“It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know or understand.”

“I understand it quite plainly that my husband is now an adulterer, just like his eldest brother and his damned uncle. It seems that disloyalty to marriage is quite a common trait among Targaryen men.”

Quickly, Aemond’s hand came to your throat, gripping the flesh to show how serious he was being, yet not hard enough to asphyxiate you, “Did you not understand my words before, my stupid little wife? It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know…”

“Oh? But I do know…” Your hands grabbed at his forearms, nails sinking into the flesh so that he would release you, “And it would do you well to learn just how smart your wife is…”

“I have known… I have known about Alys since your first rampage through the Riverlands. For moons, I remained confined to the Red Keep from your orders, and when they came to deliver news of you and your victories, I cheered. I still cheered when the maids told me the rumors between you and Alys, because I was grateful to the Seven that you were alive. Because I was still foolish enough to love you far more than you deserve.”

Tears threatened to spill over, but you swallowed them back. You would not allow Aemond the pleasure of your tears, only the fire of your anger.

“She promised me security for my life and the lives of my men,” Aemond attempted to justify himself, “I could not risk it—”

“You could have offered her gold, offered her a title, or anything else besides your body! Instead, you break your vows. And you did not stop there, because you continue to fly back to Harrenhal whenever you desire the witch’s cunt to the point where your son and daughter could not even recognize you if they ever saw you!” You huffed out, scanning his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all.

“You have allowed your lust to overcome you, disappointing your wife, your mother, and the Seven. Worst of all, you shall now have your own bastard. At least this bastard will not be raised of the Street of Silk as your brother’s bastards have.”

“How did you know?” Aemond’s voice cracked while he asked the question, “How do you know she is pregnant?”

A smirk played on your lips at the question, “It seems that the Master of Whispers is a very devoted friend of the Queen, and with the Queen being your mother, she deemed it important enough to share the news with me, your faithful wife.”

His face went pale at the realization of how many people were aware of his infidelity. While Aemond remained silent, you twisted the knife deeper into his chest. You had been tortured with this knowledge for so long that you now enjoyed the pained expression on his face.

“I have always been good to you, devoted to you. Where others cowered from you, I loved you. Despite the warnings of your blood lust and deformity, I loved you and gave you two perfect children who study just as diligently as you once did. So while you found yourself in the arms of another woman, I tried not to curse your name and assure our children that all was well, even if their father would not be present for them. But now, I look at you like a curse upon my life. You have allowed yourself to be corrupted outside our marriage, and I can no longer offer you salvation for your selfishness…”

“What would you have me do?”

You laughed mockingly at his question. Instead of providing a proper answer, you only glared further into his good eye.

“Please,” Aemond gritted his teeth, hating that he allowed himself to beg an answer from you, “Just tell me what I should do!”

“I can not simply tell you what to do. That would be to easy - what lesson would you have learned?” You shook your head and a shuddering breath escaped you.

“You have to make a choice, Aemond,” Your hand gripped his wrist, forcing him to remain attentive to your words, “Either you atone for the sin your committed and the hurt you’ve caused or you reside in Harrenhal for the rest of your days…”

“This is a choice only you can make — a wife or a witch?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: I am considering making a follow-up to this one-shot, a blurb about the outcome of the options that Aemond has... maybe...

#mattie writes #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd angst #alys rivers #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #aemond targaryen x alys #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond #Aegon II Targaryen #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen one shot

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goldensunflowe-r · 2 months

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Things that I would let THIS eyebrowless man with long ass legs do to me is too inappropriate to say even for Tumblr.

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sommornyte · 4 months

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‘ 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴… ’

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 & 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐈

(Kinda inspired by this post)

#aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #johanna westerling #aurora lannister #motherhood #asoiaf #web weaving #aegon targaryen ii x lannister!reader #aegon targaryen ii x betrothal!reader #aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x lannister!reader #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #original character #aegon targaryen ii imagines #aemond targaryen imagines

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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The Impossible Choice (55) (End)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, giving birth, breastfeeding kink, mention of trauma, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

I am touched, this is my longest story, my beloved child, my beloved couple. This story of mine was probably the most successful and brought me a lot of joy, your involvement made me want to keep writing. I feel like I'm ending at the right moment, just as I wanted, and I hope you won't be disappointed. I remind those in despair that I still have stories from The Impossible Choice AU to write. I also recommend reading Brother, Lover, Son and The Pearl and The Sapphire, because these are also stories from this universe. Thank you all for such a wonderful response!

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She wasn't sure she'd ever been as horrified in her life as she was when she realised her husband had lied to her – after he left the wedding feast, as she waited for him in his chamber, she finally asked the guards standing at her door if they knew where he was.

They looked at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.

She understood that her husband had hidden something from her, that he had planned something and left her.

Her head was buzzing with his words that he had said her before he left, she could see his gaze, his lower lip trembling.

You know that I love you.

Only then did she realise it was a kind of farewell.

A farewell in case he didn't come back.

She felt as she had that night when his army had set out with her father to the Eyrie, only for her to suffer such a painful loss.

She began to cry loudly, terrified, unable to calm herself, her child in her womb moving restlessly, sensing her condition. She was unable to fall asleep, but she was also too tired to think logically in the morning so she persisted in lethargy, breathing hard, recoiling at every louder sound, hoping it was him.

Finally the door opened and he stood there, his white hair, his face, his hands, his armour all in blood.

She covered her face with her hands trying not to scream, horrified at the thought that it could have been his own blood, that he was wounded, and just stared at him with big eyes, unable to get a word out.

There was a kind of emptiness and weariness in his gaze.

He approached her slowly and the door closed quietly behind him. He knelt in front of her with a loud clatter of his steel armour and embraced her gently, cuddling his cheek against her abdomen.

"It's done." He whispered in a hoarse, low voice while looking somewhere in the distance, and she felt a constriction in her stomach mixed with relief and horror.

It's done.

Her lip trembled as an involuntary question escaped her lips.

"Are they dead?"

Her husband swallowed hard and clenched his eyes as her hands stroked his hair.

He seeked comfort in her arms, consolation, an escape from what he had done, what he would have to face every day from now on.

"Yes."

She didn't ask him anything else.

She didn't ask him how they died, who killed them, if they suffered much.

She didn't want to know that.

She didn't want to think about it.

"You must take a bath, my love." She whispered, kissing the top of his head. He sighed quietly, as if relieved, as if afraid that the scale of his act, the enormity of the sin he had brought with him would make her push him away.

She knew he needed her like never before.

She did not let him out of her arms, letting him snuggle into her womb as she called their servants and ordered them to prepare a tub of hot water. As they did so she combed her fingers through his hair, whispering to him that he was brave, that there was no other way, that he had protected her and their child, his family, that he had to do this.

She told him everything he needed to hear to keep him from going mad with despair.

She felt his tears on the skin of her arms, felt that his body was shaking, that the realisation of what he had done was slowly reaching his mind along with the adrenaline and overwhelm leaving his body.

"– Joffrey –" He muttered and pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold back the feeling that was building up inside him, and then he burst out sobbing.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought of that little boy, at the thought that both he and she knew he was a child who had nothing to do with these events, was no different from Jaehaerys.

"− shhh − I know − I know − I know, my beloved − I am with you −" She whispered and leaned towards him so as to enclose him in the embrace of her body, his head pressed from the side to her abdomen and from the top to her breasts, her hands stroking his neck and wet cheeks, her lips kissing his hair.

Slowly he began to calm down, ashamed of his weakness and what he had shown her. As he stepped into the tub of hot water at last he let out a loud gasp of air, as if he didn't believe he was back.

That he was alive.

Just as she had done before, just as she had done then, at the beginning of their marriage, she began by washing his head, the blood from his hair and body staining the water red. She felt him lift his hand back and run his fingertips over her arm, as if he needed to feel the touch of her body, needed to be physically reassured that she was with him, that he was not alone.

She knew he was scared, that what he had done was crushing him and that she needed to be there for him.

She tried not to think about it, to push the doubt and remorse away, knowing that she had to be his pillar, his strength, that he could not see hesitation in her. He needed to feel that he had made the right choice, that she did not despise him, that nothing had changed.

After his bath, she helped him get dressed in clean clothes. Even though it was morning and they should be eating their morning meal, she led him to their bed holding his hand, and lay down with him.

"Try to sleep, my dearest. I will be with you all the time." She said softly.

He hummed under his breath and nodded, laying down beside her, cuddling his face between her breasts. She placed her chin in his hair, embracing him tightly, stroking him, and began to quietly sing him the lullaby her mother used to hum to her when she was a child.

She felt his tense body slowly relax, felt him cry again, and then after a time that lasted an eternity for her he finally fell into a restless sleep.

Word of Aegon's severe burns reached her quickly and she decided to visit him with her husband, knowing better than anyone else what he was going through. As they walked into his chamber Helaena was watching over him, rising from his bed and smiling at them.

Aegon's face was almost entirely covered in bandages and she felt an involuntary tightening in her heart at the sight.

Despite what he had done, she felt sorry for him.

"How are you feeling, brother?" She asked softly and he glanced at her, warmth in his gaze by the way she called him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Not only am I disgusting on the inside, now I'm disgusting on the outside." He laughed, but no one responded to his words. They spoke with each other for a while, and then Aegon surprised her with his words.

"I would like to speak with my brother."

She and Helaena left his chamber and moved ahead with a slow step – now that she knew it was over, that nothing threatened them anymore, she suddenly felt a gigantic relief, as if she realised that she was safe, that she could calm down at last. She looked at her companion.

"Is he good for you now?" She asked. Helaena looked at her with dreamy eyes.

"Yes. Yes, a lot has changed in him. I regret that it is only now, but… well, I am glad that after the death of our son, me and my daughter find comfort in his arms." She said quietly, looking around, distracted, immersed in her own thoughts. She involuntarily smiled at her words.

"I'm really glad."

She decided not to return to her husband's chamber, but to visit Royce and his new wife. She reasoned that since the danger had passed, she no longer needed to fear anything and lock herself in his quarters like a prison.

She stood outside her brother's chambers and asked the guard to announce her. The man went inside, and after a moment came out and said that Lord and Lady Baratheon would welcome her.

She went inside with a smile, stroking her swollen abdomen contentedly – Royce stood up, extending his hands to her, and they threw themselves into each other's arms, embracing each other tightly.

"I've heard about what they have done. Gods, why didn't they tell me anything?" He asked, glancing at her, and she sighed heavily.

"I suspect it was all about the surprise effect. My Lady. My congratulations on your nuptials." She said softly and nodded at the young woman who stood up from the table, her dark hair braided, a grey-blue long, simple gown with wide sleeves on her body.

She wore no jewellery.

Even so, she must have found the expression on her face pleasing, her mouth was full as was her shapes.

"Thank you, my Lady." She answered her and also nodded. She glanced at her husband, moving towards the entrance.

"I'll leave you alone. Husband." She said lowly and calmly, nodding at him, embarrassment and something she couldn't decipher ran across Royce's face. When she left, they both sat down at the table, Royce grunting away while combing his hair quickly with his hand.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling well." She said, looking at him intently, unsure if he was happy or not.

"Oh, I feel well." He said quickly, pouring himself a cup of wine and grunting loudly. She blinked, looking at him intensely.

"Are you content?" She asked finally. He lifted his gaze to her and pressed his lower lip tight. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.

"I…I've had close-ups with various women, but she…gods, I don't even know how to put it, I've never experienced anything like this. She's very experienced, I can only tell you that much." He mumbled and she saw with surprise and amusement that he was all red – he had trouble looking into her face, clearly overwhelmed by the memories of his last night.

"So… you're content." She finished at last. He pressed his lips together and grunted again.

"I…yes, I think so."

When she returned to her husband's chamber he was already waiting for her, sitting in a chair right by the fire, his eye piercing her, focused and anxious.

"Where have you been?" He asked coolly. She sighed quietly, approaching him slowly – her abdomen was still swelling, and she was getting tired of walking more and more quickly, but sitting wasn't any more comfortable for her.

"I visited my brother. He is pleased with his new wife." She said softly and touched his hand with her fingers. "I thought that since my husband has ensured that the danger has passed, I could visit him."

He looked at her watchfully, and after a moment he hummed under his breath, nodding, accepting her words and explanation. His gaze fled to the fire again, her hand on his skin.

"What did your brother want?"

Her husband was silent for a long time, his whole body as tense as a string. He swallowed loudly, running his fingers over his chin.

"He said he wants to relinquish the throne to me." He said lowly, and she looked at him in shock, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad. "That as he is now, he cannot rule the kingdom or represent it physically."

There was a silence between them full of tension – his gaze finally lifted to her, wanting to see her reaction.

"Did you agree?" She asked quietly.

She had the feeling that his gaze was piercing her deeply, that he knew her enough to be aware of her every doubt, her every thought.

His silence seemed to last her an eternity.

"No."

She blinked, opening and closing her mouth, looking at him in disbelief.

She felt a sense of relief.

"Why?" She asked in shock. He murmured under his breath, stretching out his hand on the armrest, straightening and clenching his fingers as he always did when he was thinking hard about something.

"Because I promised the gods that if they spared you I would give up my hopes for the crown. They kept you alive then, in Harrenhal, and they kept you alive in the Red Keep. I have grown to think that the gods do not want me to be king. My current role suits me. As the Hand of the King and Prince Regent, I will rule in his name until his condition improves. I told him I want something else in return." He said, entwining their fingers together, stroking her soft, warm skin with his thumb.

She felt heat in her heart at his words, at the thought that he still remembered that vow, that he truly believed that through his sacrifice the gods were watching over her.

"And what do you want?" She asked softly, and he lifted his gaze to her, a disturbing glint in his eye.

"Dragonstone."

When they finally moved to Dragonstone she walked with difficulty, the heat was unbearable for her and she demanded a cool bath as soon as they reached the place. Before their arrival, her husband had the chamber in the underground where Luke was last seen completely cleaned and sealed.

When she finally sank into the icy water she breathed a loud sigh of relief, her husband strolling through their chamber with evident satisfaction.

She knew that he had at last won a coveted inheritance, something to pass on to his descendants that was his, that he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

When he looked at her at last she smiled at him.

He hummed under his breath and approached her unhurriedly with his hands folded behind his back, gazing intently at the indistinct outline of her body that he could see beneath the sheet of water.

He knelt by the tub and took her hand in his, pressing it to his lips. He stroked her wet skin with his thumb and let the air out quietly through his nose.

"Just a few more weeks." He whispered, and she nodded.

She saw him press his lips together, looking at her – she knew what he was thinking about, she knew what he feared.

He was afraid that she would die.

That she had not been taken from him by fire or by an assassin, but would be ripped from him by her labour, just as it had taken wives from husbands for hundreds of years, just as it had taken Aemma from his father.

She stroked his face, seeing his worry and tension.

"Be of good cheer, my beloved." She whispered tenderly and he nodded, kissing her hand again.

She did not want to be alone at such a difficult time and asked that Cassandra come to Dragonstone to keep her company. Helaena and Alicent had also announced their passage, so that she was not as afraid.

She felt her first intense contractions at the table when they were eating supper together, as they did every day.

Her husband was telling her about a new book he had read and she listened contentedly until a wave of pain went through her body. She dropped her cup and rose suddenly, catching her stomach, her husband froze in mid-motion.

"What's happening?" He asked terrified, unable to move for a moment.

"I think it's starting." She muttered, and then felt something warm run down her thighs.

She began to cry in his arms as he carried her to their chamber, for Cassandra, Helaena and Alicent were only due to arrive in two days. True, the midwives and maids were by her side, but it wasn't the same.

"I don't want to be alone." She whined quietly and he looked at her despairingly, laying her down on the bed, the women around her began to untie her gown to help her.

"…do you want me to stay with you?" He asked uncertainly, and she swallowed with difficulty and wept loudly, feeling another powerful spasm.

He turned his face away, unable to look at her suffering, not knowing how to behave, not having any knowledge of these women's affairs that always took place behind closed doors.

"Get out." She said finally, grabbing her stomach – she felt him throw her a shocked, uncertain look. "Get out, I don't want you to look at this."

She exhaled, not wanting him to be disgusted with her, so that later, thinking of her, all he could see was that sight, the sight of a ripped flesh full of sweat, blood and bodily fluids.

He, however, did not move from his place, his hands clenched into fists, horror in his gaze.

He didn't know what to do.

She didn't have the strength to think about it, hot sweat was running down her whole body, she felt like she was on fire. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally left in just her nightgown, one of the servants put a pillow under her back and another applied a cold compress to her forehead.

The midwife sat down in front of her, parting her legs with her hands, peering between her thighs.

"When I tell you, my Lady, you will begin to push. Do you understand?" She asked softly.

She imagined with tears in her eyes that this strange woman was her mother, and that the servant rubbing her forehead was her sister, and nodded quickly.

Without even looking at him, she knew that her husband was still standing by their bed.

She felt relief and horror, gratitude and rage at the same time.

The pain and contractions began to become more intense and followed each other faster and faster, her heart pounding like mad, her whole body in readiness for the tremendous effort that awaited her.

She wondered if she would survive it.

"Push, my Lady!" The woman called out, and she clenched her eyes shut and, with a loud whine of effort, tried to force her child out of herself. She felt something move inside her and she threw her head back, panting heavily, hot tears running down her cheeks.

"Very well. Breathe, my Lady, deep, full breaths." The woman spoke to her, and she nodded, trying to focus only on her breathing, on the way the air flowed through her chest.

"Push!" She called out again, and she clenched her hands on the bedclothes around her and cried out loudly, feeling the searing pain, her baby's head trying to squeeze through her tight walls.

She fell backwards panting all over, heard a sudden movement beside her, her husband's hand tightened on hers, his gesture of support and terror, his gesture of closeness, his sign that he was there for her.

"Yes, just like that. And again. Push!"

It felt like it went on forever – she was one big sweaty, weeping mess.

She clenched her fingers on his hand so tightly that she felt like she was going to break his fingers, her heart pounding like crazy.

"I can already see the head, my Lady! Just a little more! Push!" She squeezed her eyes shut and a whined in effort and pain as she made her body to force her offspring out.

Suddenly she felt something flow out of her, a lightness and relief filled her, the midwife caught something red in her arms.

"There he is, my Lady, look what a beautiful baby boy!" She said, wrapping the small creature all smeared with blood in a clean white cloth, wiping him slowly. She laughed with joy and relief as she looked at her child's face.

Her son had dark Baratheon hair.

She turned her head towards her husband, wanting to see his reaction, his joy at the sight of their child, but she saw that he was crying without even looking in that direction, his wet cheek pressed against her hand, his fingers clenched on her skin trembling all over.

She felt her heart squeeze at the thought that he was rejoicing that she had been alive.

When their first shock had passed, when she had been changed into a clean nightgown and the bedclothes had been changed, when she had lain back in bed, her son had at last been given to her. He already had his first bath, wrapped in a warm, bright blanket, his tiny arms and legs squirming vigorously when he felt her proximity, as if he recognised her immediately.

She felt a bond, a love, a tenderness, looking at his little chubby pink face, his scent wonderful and addictive.

She looked up contentedly and saw her husband's proud look, an almost invisible smirk on his face. He stood over her with his arms folded behind his back, preferring not to touch such a small creature for the time being, watching his interaction with his mother.

They had agreed that if a girl was born she would name her, and if a boy was born, he would name him.

She knew exactly what name he had chosen, but she asked him anyway.

"Daeron."

It was only at night, when they were finally alone, that her husband lay down beside them in just his shirt, looking intently at the little being sleeping in her arms. She cradled him looking at him with tenderness, thinking that he was the most beautiful child she had ever seen in her life.

"He has your eyes." She whispered and he hummed with contentment at her words as he carefully put his arm around them, pressing his temple against her forehead. She felt him place a kiss on her cheek and on her jaw, felt him inhale her scent.

"You were so brave, sweet wife. I have never been more proud of you." He whispered tenderly, and she felt the heat spread through her heart. She looked up at him, brushing the tip of her nose against his and they kissed, warmly, softly, their lips moist and swollen.

They spent the next few weeks getting used to the changes in their lives – her wounds healed slowly and after only a few days she was able to get up, much to the displeasure of her husband, who wanted her to avoid straining herself.

The cold stone walls of Dragonstone suddenly became cosier when the baby's babbling filled them, their son was loud and constantly laughing, overjoyed at their constant presence.

Her husband didn't want to be like his father, and though he was afraid to pick Daeron up, he often looked in on him just to touch him, to make sure he was safe.

She saw him watching out of the corner of his eye as she fed their son, finding it a very intimate and private sight, his wife holding his heir at her breast, giving him life, tending to his legacy.

She knew he craved her, saw the way he gazed greedily at her breasts, but dared not demand anything of her after seeing their son tear her flesh.

However, when her wounds had healed and she was no longer in discomfort, when she told him he could touch her, he threw himself at her like mad, his tongue deep in her throat, his hands ripping her nightgown from her body.

They were both panting loudly, kissing each other greedily with a sticky, wet click as she felt him grab her hips and settle her on top of him, quickly untying his breeches – they didn't have time to be embarrassed by how much they needed it, that they just wanted to fuck.

"If I don't fill you soon I'll die, sweet wife." He gasped affectionately, his voice trembling with desire – she kissed him again, clamping her hand in his hair, the other guiding the swollen head of his erection to her puffy slit entrance, slowly lowering herself onto him.

They both moaned piteously loudly, his hips beginning to impale her on his manhood again and again, filling her with himself, shivers of pleasure and heat passing through her.

She pressed her forehead against his, rising and falling against onto him, their bodies slapping against each other hard and fast, the lewd clicks of their shared moisture echoing through their chamber.

"− can I taste you? − " He whispered so quietly that for a moment she wasn't sure she heard it – his hand involuntarily cupped her full breast filled to the brim with milk. She mewled in pleasure as she felt him begin to play with her nipple in his mouth.

"− yes −" She exhaled and moaned loudly, aroused by this perverse act, his lips clamped tightly around her nipple began to suckle, she heard the loud sound of him swallowing.

She clenched her hand in his hair pressing his face closer to her, feeling her walls begin to throb against his length that he pushed into her body with each of his deep thrusts.

She was embarrassed by how surprisingly pleasurable it was.

"− oh, Aemond − yes −" She mewled as she struggled to fall and rise on top of him, their bodies slapping against each other with each violent slam of their flesh, his lips pulled away from her nipple with a loud plop, he licked his lips as he looked at her with a misty gaze.

"− so fucking delicious −" He breathed out and she whimpered softly, feeling his words between her thighs, not having the opportunity to answer him, his lips pressed against her other breast, repeating everything from the beginning, her nails tightened and ran over his naked back, she heard his loud purr of pleasure between the loud sounds of swallowed milk.

"− Aemond − it feels so good − oh gods −" She cried out loudly and tilted her head back, coming harder than ever in her life. He moaned low into her breast without releasing i from his mouth – she felt his hot spend spill inside her a moment later.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced such an intense, long orgasm before.

He finally released her breast from his mouth, pressing his face to her chest, panting along with her. She stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head, purring with delight as she felt his manhood pulsing inside her in fulfilment.

"− will you let me do it again? −" He asked in a trembling voice full of embarrassment and guilt, as if he had done something lewd and unthinkable, as if he feared she would now be ashamed of him. She kissed his hair at his question.

"− yes −"

From then on, his perfect place in the world was to be deep inside her with his mouth pressed against her breast. They both knew that there was something even more intimate than usual about this act, some kind of taboo, unmistakable intimacy that could not be replaced by anything else.

She tried not to burst out laughing when one day during their morning meal he asked her, feigning indifference, when she would lose the milk in her breasts, and she answered him that her body would continue to produce it as long as she breastfed.

She then saw the shock and the glint in his eye, he bit his lower lip involuntarily, unable to hide his expression of delight at this information.

They were closer together than ever.

The birth of their son reassured the entire kingdom, for in the situation in which Helaena did not bear Aegon another son, there was a young heir to the throne alive who would take over after his father.

When she spoke to her husband it seemed to her that he was made to be the Hand of the King, his advice always cool and recalcitrant. To her surprise, Aegon finally learned to use them and became a better king than she would ever have expected.

Daeron was a calm, joyful infant. He soon began to chatter, making his own unspecified sounds and syllables, bringing joy and laughter into their fortress. Her husband read to him a lot, and he stood in his little wooden bed with railings and hopped softly on his feet, delighted.

He adored him.

She had to keep repeating it to him because he didn't believe it, but his son was drawn to him, forever longing for him – he would reach out his chubby hands greedily to him whenever he saw him return from the Red Keep.

Although outwardly he was stern and cold towards the servants and guards, when he locked himself with them in their chamber he changed into a different person.

He would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, say he heard Joffrey crying from the underground and frighten her, breathing hard. She tried not to show it, hugging and stroking him until he fell asleep again.

She knew that these events would never stop haunting him.

When morning set in, the first thing after checking with a touch of his hand that she was lying next to him was to see if Daeron was asleep in his bed. He would sometimes get up in the night to check that he was breathing and, reassured, would only return to further sleep, embracing her from behind and snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck.

She was overwhelmed with happiness when her brother sent her a letter from Storm's End informing her that his wife was expecting a child.

From what she understood their marriage had been quite successful and peaceful, her character proving far more calm and composed than her brother had originally assumed. She renewed herself in Storm's End, happy to still be close to the sea.

As the time approached for her to give birth, she asked her husband to fulfil his promise that he had made to her when they were in Harrenhal and for them to travel to Storm's End.

Travelling on a dragon's back with a small child seemed too dangerous for them, so they set off in a carriage, patiently enduring the hardships and length of the journey.

When they arrived she felt a strange tightness in her throat as she watched the round throne room where her father had always sat, and now her brother sat in his place.

He stood up happy to see her, kissed her cheek and stroked the head of her son whom she held in her arms – Daeron giggled happily and began to squirm again, bursting with energy.

"I see my nephew is growing fast. How these children are changing! He was such a little baby not so long ago." He said gushing with enthusiasm, clearly delighted at the prospect of becoming a father himself. She smiled broadly at his words, glad to see him, glad to be home.

Royce looked at her husband, who was standing behind her, and nodded. Her husband reciprocated the gesture, but they did not say a word to each other.

She felt memories hit her from every direction and she was moved. She had insisted that they sleep in her old chamber during their stay even though it was small, her husband agreed without a word.

When they went inside their belongings and their son's cot were already standing. He had only been there once, on the night he returned from Winterfell and left abruptly after their argument, so he had no time to look at anything closely.

He looked through her books curiously, looked out of her windows, looked around, and she thought fondly that he had tried to imagine her life before she met him.

Before he had chosen her.

"Would you like to see my mother's crypt?" She asked softly. He looked at her and nodded.

They descended into the underworld with the torch he held in his hand. Although the web of corridors beneath the fortress was complicated, she knew this path by heart, having often gone down there as a child, asking her mother for advice from the heavens.

After a short walk among the stone statues, they arrived in front of the one she remembered so well. She felt a squezee in her throat, burning tears in her eyes as she saw a familiar sculpture, a stone female figure that was supposed to resemble her mother, but did not even partially reflect her beauty.

She approached it and touched its cold surface with her hand, her husband remained silent.

"Mother, this is my husband, prince Aemond. Forgive me for not introducing him to you earlier. He chose me against my and my father's will, but I did not know then how much I would love him. I didn't know that…" She said, feeling her voice break, her husband moved beside her restlessly, swallowing loudly.

"...I didn't know we would make it, I didn't believe I would be as happy as you were with my father. Thank you for watching over me, for listening to my prayers and making the gods send me the husband I asked for." She finished in a trembling voice, choking on her own tears, feeling that only now, two years after these events, did she truly understand what had happened, what she had experienced, what she had gone through, what a long and difficult path it had been.

She heard him come up to her, putting his torch down on the stone ground and embraced her, hugging her to his chest. She felt his heart pounding fast, felt that he was unable to get a word out. He kissed her hair and pressed his face to the top of her head, standing with her like this in the warm light of the fire.

"I thought it was impossible for someone to love me. I thought it was impossible for me to love someone. I thought it was impossible for me to make a good choice when I came here on Vhagar's back..." He whispered, and she clenched her hands tighter on the material of his leather tunic, his warmth, his familiar, wonderful, calming scent spreading through her lungs.

"...and then I saw you."

______

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

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pinkykats-place · 6 months

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Aegon Ⅱ Targaryen x Reader Insert Fics

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Disclaimers!

None of the stories below are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Reader tends to be female.

Gif not mine.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author by liking, commenting & reblogging the original fic!

*************************************

Someone. Anyone.

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Safe In Your Arms

Aegon Ⅱ Targaryen x fem!Reader

Summary: There is only one person whom the Prince can find comfort with.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬

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summary: aegon seeks comfort from you

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Aegon Ⅱ Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary: On Aegon's name day, you spent time dancing with everyone. But there is someone who is always watching you.

healing sessions

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summary: aegon isn't dealing well with his father loss, but gladly there is someone who's gonna do her best to lift his spirit a bit

Aegon The Burnt

Aegon x sister!Reader

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

part 1

aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

part 2

helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader

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aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

You Can Do It

Aegon Ⅱ Targaryen x sister-in-law!Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra)

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aegon ii targaryen x aemond's wife!reader

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Aegon The Burnt

Aegon ii Targaryen x sister!Reader

warnings: infidelity (reader is Aemond's wife), incest, spoilers of s2ep5

𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

Aegon x half-sister!Reader

Summary: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

Lose Control

Aegon Ⅱ x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aegon knew it would never work. But did he care? Of course not. You were one of few members of his family who didn't look at him like he was a failure. Was it love? He didn't know. But he never felt whole without you.

Survival is Victory

Aegon x niece!reader

Summary: As Rhaenyra's only daughter, you were married to Aegon to secure peace after the Dance. You soon realized that in order to insure your survival and that of your younger brothers, you would need to win the king's affection.

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

The Albatross

Aegon x Velaryon/Strong!Reader

Summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child, and his entire world changes.

Marry Me

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon (Strong)!Fem!Reader

Summary : Rhaenyra’s daughter is off limits, but Aegon won’t allow her to marry anyone else.

My heart is yours, as yours is mine

Aegon Targaryen x Hightower!Fem!Reader

Gevie

Aegon x betrothed!Reader

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

Taste of You.

Aegon x wife!Reader

Warnings - mdni, lactation kink, PRAISE, p in v sex, breeding. Aegon is so in love

I Won't Allow It

Aegon x fem!pregnant wife!Reader

Summary: Aegon knows the risks of childbirth and is thrilled when (Y/n) sails through labour. But when she takes a bad turn, he doesn't know how to cope. He won't live without her.

Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary: The days following Rooks Rest were spent by Aegon’s side and no where else.

Midway

Aegon x wife!Reader

Summary: You did not choose to be Aegon's wife, and yet you seem to be the only one choosing to be there for him during his recovery.

Reward (nsfw)

Aegon x wife!Reader

Summary: riding a needy aegon and he looks at you with tears in his eyes and keeps mumbling praises against your skin

Midway

Aegon x wife!Reader

Summary: You did not choose to be Aegon's wife, and yet you seem to be the only one choosing to be there for him during his recovery.

My King

Aegon x wife!Reader

Take What You Need

Sub!Aegon x wife!Reader

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄.

aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader

SYNOPSIS: in the wake of his burning, aegon’s recovery is marked by rage and insecurities. he pushes you away, but it is your comforting embrace that he desires above all else.

Shield for a Heart

King Aegon x wife reader

Summary: As your husband Aegon ascends the throne, you can no longer bear his indifference and beseech him to consummate your fruitless union. His self-loathing makes the freshly crowned king crumble in your arms.

Firstborn

Aegon x wife!Reader

Summary: Yours was an arranged marriage, and Aegon meets his daughter for the first time.

Appetite

Chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

Pretty Boy

Aegon Targaryen x wife!Reader

From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem! reader

Soft NSFW sub!aegon

Aegon Targaryen x Reader Masterlist

399 notes · View notes

thattargboy · 2 years

Text

Imagine…

Being Aegon’s sister-wife and he tries to get you and your children to run away with him across the Narrow Sea to avoid being crowned King.

“You need to get up,” You awoke to your husband frantic, and presumably drunk, shaking your shoulder. You shrugged him off and rolled over but it did not sway him.

“Darling, get up,” Aegon said frantically. “We have to go.”

“My love,” you said as you sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep dust from your eyes. “‘Tis the hour of the owl, let me sleep. What could be so important?”

“Our father is dead,” Aegon said solemnly, his words like ice water over you. “Mother and Grandsire mean to name me king. I already have our dragons prepared for flight.”

Your eyes shot open. Whatever state you expected to see your husband in, fully dressed, somewhat sober and dry-eyed, holding your babe with a panicked wet nurse and your two sleepy toddlers on his tail was certainly not it.

“Seven Hells,” you said and rose from bed, running both your hands down your face. You always knew this day would come, and yet even as your father’s health deteriorated, you did not expect it so soon. Perhaps you were blinding yourself, not wanting to face what will, what is, coming after. “How do you even know? I’ve heard nothing of this.”

“When I was… in the city, I had heard Mother’s handmaiden talking with someone; she said Father supposedly named me his heir on his deathbed. With only Mother as a witness. I do not want to stay.” Uprooting our lives over gossip he heard while he was out whoring?

“Are we going somewhere?” Aemon, your eldest, asked. His sister sniffled but he held her hand. You did not know what to say. This was all too much to process. “Is Grandsire dead?”

Your children held no love for their inattentive grandsire, nor did you for your father, but the information clearly distressed all of them. Or perhaps it was their father’s clear panic that was scaring them. Aegon held your little Daerion on his hip, who clearly did not want to be awake, and looked like he was on the verge of wailing.

Aemon and Elaena stood behind him with the nursemaid. The twins were still in their sleep-clothes and held the toy dragons they cannot sleep without. The very picture of innocence and confusion.

You took Daerion from his father’s arms and cradled the small boy. Aegon took your hand, eyes pleading.

“What is it you mean to do?” You asked, trying to keep your voice down. “Take off on Sunfyre and Moonborne to find Saera Targaryen and live in her pillow house for the rest of our days?”

“That sounds lovely to me,” he said.

“Be serious, Aegon!” You chided as you bounced your son. “We cannot run away from our duty, from our family.”

“I am serious, we cannot stay. Being King is the last thing I want, I will hardly be good at it,” Aegon said, taking your face in his hands and pressing his forehead against yours. “My duty is to protect you and our children, and leaving will do that, you know what crowning me will cause. The wet nurse may go wherever she wishes after Daerion is weaned.”

He was serious, that was the bad part. And he was right, which was even worse— whether or not your father truly did name Aegon heir mattered little. Any attempt to put Aegon on the throne will be seen by your half-sister and her supporters as an act of war, putting you and your children in danger.

“We must act swiftly, just say the word.” Aegon kissed you, once, twice, tears finally filling his eyes. “Please, Y/N. Do this for me, out of the love you have for me as a wife, as a twin.”

Most husbands would demand this of you, tearing you and your children from all you have ever known, yours is begging. You kissed your son’s forehead and contemplated, unsure of your next move. Unsure of the future and safety of your family, scared and confused.

Notes: I gave you and Aegon the same amount of children as Aegon and Helaena (twin son and daughter and a younger son) but I didn’t want them to be the same so I changed the names. All their children are named in honor of their siblings. Please tell me what you think, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Ao3 repost if you want to read it there instead

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x sister reader #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #aegon imagine #aegon ii imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x targaryen reader #hotd fanfic #aegon ii angst #aegon targaryen angst #targaryen reader #aegon targaryen x wife #this was supposed to be like. three paragraphs. this man possessed me #angst

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 29 days

Text

Aegon Targaryen x niece!wife!Reader

Aegon loves you with all his heart, knowing very well that you might never feel the same for him

The fire crackled softly in the hearth of the royal chambers, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The warmth from the flames should have comforted you, but there was a persistent coldness within you that could not be shaken. You sat quietly in your chair, gazing at the elaborate tapestry hanging on the wall, your mind miles away, yet your heart weighed down by the present reality.

The silence was broken by the creak of the heavy oak door opening. You didn’t have to turn to know who had entered. Aegon’s presence was unmistakable, the air shifting slightly with his arrival. He stepped into the room with a quiet confidence, yet his eyes—those familiar, intense eyes—betrayed a softness when they landed on you.

"My love," he said gently, his voice steady yet laden with a yearning that you could hear every time he spoke to you. "I brought you something."

You turned your head ever so slightly to see him approach, carrying a small box wrapped in the finest silk. His movements were deliberate, careful as if he feared startling you. When he reached your side, he knelt, lowering himself to your eye level. You caught the faintest scent of dragon leather and embers that always seemed to cling to him—both powerful and comforting.

"You didn’t have to," you whispered, your voice soft as a feather. Aegon smiled, but there was sadness beneath the surface. He knew you would say that. He always knew. And yet, he continued to offer you gifts—silks, jewels, rare books, and delicate trinkets—anything that might bring a flicker of joy to your troubled heart.

"I know," he replied, placing the box in your lap. "But I wanted to."

His fingers lingered near your hands for a moment before retreating, as if he longed to touch you but feared you would recoil from his affection. You stared down at the box, your fingers trembling slightly as you unraveled the silk ribbon. Inside, nestled upon velvet, was a hairpin made of Valyrian steel, adorned with delicate rubies and black pearls. The craftsmanship was exquisite—just the sort of thing you once loved before your world had been torn apart by the civil war, before your mother and uncle had become enemies, and before you had become Aegon’s wife.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed at the pin. It was beautiful. He had chosen it because he knew you favored such elegant and understated beauty. He always knew what you would love. And yet...

You swallowed hard, your emotions a tangled web of confusion. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, torn between conflicting loyalties. How could you show affection to the man who had taken the throne from your mother, who had driven a wedge between you and the family you had once known? And yet, this man—this king—treated you with nothing but kindness, never forcing you to share his bed or make vows of love. He had given you freedom within your cage of gold and silks, all while quietly yearning for something more from you.

"It’s beautiful, Aegon," you said softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. You could feel his hope like a living thing, wrapped around you, suffocating yet strangely comforting. He wanted so desperately for you to accept him, for you to love him. And though your heart stirred in the quiet moments like this, the fear held you still.

He rose to his feet then, standing tall above you, yet he looked down at you with none of the arrogance others had come to expect from him. Instead, there was a tenderness in his expression that made your chest ache.

"I would give you the world if I could," Aegon said, his voice low, almost vulnerable. "I know… that you don’t feel the same. Not yet. But I hope that, in time, you might."

You turned your head away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. You were afraid—afraid of what loving him would mean. What would your mother think if she knew? What would the realm say if you, Rhaenyra’s daughter, gave your heart to the man who had usurped her claim?

"I…" Your voice trembled as you tried to find the words. "I don’t know how to be what you want me to be."

Aegon took a step closer, his shadow casting a long, dark silhouette over you. But his voice remained gentle, never demanding. "I don’t want you to be anything you’re not," he murmured. "I only want you to be… you."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unsaid words, until finally, you found the courage to look up at him. His eyes held nothing but a deep and genuine love for you, a love that terrified you, but also warmed a part of you that had long been cold.

"I’m scared," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Aegon’s expression softened further, and he knelt before you again, taking your hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding you in the moment.

"You don’t have to be," he said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. "I will wait. As long as it takes. I will wait for you."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, not wanting him to see your weakness. Yet, Aegon saw everything. He always did. And still, he waited—patient and unwavering.

"I don’t know if I can ever…" you began, your voice faltering, but Aegon silenced you with a small, sad smile.

"I know," he whispered. "And that’s enough for now."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his warmth, to feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his tunic. He wrapped his arms around you then, holding you close, as if trying to shield you from the turmoil both inside and outside of these chambers.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to imagine—just for a moment—that the world beyond these walls didn’t exist, that your mother wasn’t leading armies against your husband, that you weren’t torn between the two people you had loved most.

In Aegon’s arms, the world was quieter. And maybe, just maybe, you could find some peace here, if only you allowed yourself to let go of the fear.

But even as the thought crossed your mind, the coldness and the fear returned.

552 notes · View notes

maidragoste · 1 year

Text

Unfair

Summary: After an incident between Baelon and Aelor you ask Aemond to talk to Baelon.

I'm glad I finally finished writing this and sharing it with all of you. I hope you like it 🥰🥰

comments, reblogs, likes are always greatly appreciated 💖💖

This is part of the "The Queen and Her Husbands" universe, if you haven't read it before I'm going to make a couple of clarifications: Reader is married to Aemond and Aegon; Baelon and Aemon are the twin sons of Reader and Aemond; Aelor is Aemond's bastard son with Alys Rivers; Daeron is the son of Reader and Aegon; Jaehaera is still alive just like the dragons; people refer to Aegon (Rhaenyra's son) as Egg.

Disclaimer: English is not my mother tongue so I apologize for any mistakes.

It was not normal to see the Hand of the King running through the halls unless he was following his children or playing with them. Aemond was running for his children again, but this time because one of them had gotten hurt. One of the servants told him that there was a fight in the courtyard between the children. Aemond didn't even bother to finish listening to the woman when he ran out.

He hurried into your shared chambers. Aelor sat while the maester daubed his cheek with ointment. You found yourself holding your son's hand looking at him with pure concern while your other hand was on your stomach. Aegon was behind you, his hands caressing your back trying to bring you comfort.

"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt" Aelor said trying to reassure everyone but every time the maester touched the wound he made a face and couldn't help but squeeze your hand.

"What happened?" Aemond asked going to his son's side. He couldn't see the wound because it was covered by the ointment but from the way the ointment was on he could tell it wasn't a small cut.

"He didn't need stitches. The maester says there's a chance he doesn't have a scar" you announced making your first husband frown because you weren't telling him what he wanted to know. He was still relieved to learn that the wound wasn't bad enough to need stitches. He still remembered the pain he had to endure while the maester stitched him up after losing his eye. He didn't want his son to suffer the same pain.

"My prince, try not to get your face dirty or touch your wound these days," said the master once he finished smearing the ointment and began to pick up his medicines from the table "Tomorrow I'll put more on it" he warned as he got up.

"Thank you for your services, maester," you said and the old man nodded before leaving the room.

"What happened?" the one-eyed prince asked again, caressing the brown curls of his son. Aelor shrank back in his chair. Not because he was uncomfortable or disgusted by his father's show of affection but because he was too embarrassed to tell him what happened in the courtyard.

"Ser Fell made Aelor and Baelon fight. They were having a good fight" Aegon said, the truth was that the fight wasn't long and it was evident that Baelon had more experience but knowing that Aelor was embarrassed and always wanted to impress Aemond he decided to lie for his nephew. "Until Baelon brought him down"

"And Aelor surrendered" you continued the story. The boy looked at his feet without daring to see his father's reaction. He was a Targaryen, he should have stood up and fought but he gave up fast. "Even so, Baelon continued to attack him" Your voice was calm but your anger didn't go unnoticed by any of your husbands.

"It was an accident. He didn't listen to me" Aelor lied, always loyal to his brothers and not wanting them to get in trouble because of him. He had angered Baelon by stealing Shrykos from him.

"It wasn't an accident," both you and Aegon said determinedly. It was impossible not to have heard Aelor's screams saying that he was giving up. You will never forget the terror in your son's eyes. Worst of all, the cause of that fear was your other son. If it weren't for Aegon acting fast and holding Baelon from behind, you were sure Aelor's injuries would be worse. For a moment you panicked, imagining Aelor without one eye. What would you do? What would Aemond do? You would have to impose justice. Could you punish Baelon? You never wanted to be in that situation with any of your children.

You rubbed your stomach nervously. If this pregnancy ended well, you wanted more than anything that by the time the baby was born all her siblings would get along.

"Aemond, you must talk to Baelon" you request feeling overwhelmed by the situation. This pregnancy already had you worried. Not only that, but you also had to keep an eye on the lords and solve any problem they had in addition to raising your children.

It wasn't the first time that there was a problem with Baelon, you had already reprimanded him on more than one occasion for his deal with Aelor but he didn't seem to listen. You hoped that Aemond could do something. You had the feeling that Baelon's attitude was due to jealousy for not having a dragon. Aemond would understand him better than you, and he would know what to say to him to come to his senses.

"Of course, I'll go look for him in a minute," your husband assured, continuing to caress the boy's curls. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, looking at him carefully for any other injuries.

"Yes, Kepa. I am strong, this is nothing" declared Aelor, wanting to show courage in front of him.

Aemond smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "Good. Why don't you and your uncle go to the kitchens for raspberry pies?"

Aelor's eyes sparkled with excitement as she heard her favorite candy "Can I have two?"

"Well you earned it"

"Thank you Kepa!" the boy said before quickly dragging his uncle out in case his father suddenly changed her mind.

You and Aemond both smiled at Aelor's excitement. You two always wanted to see their son happy. They both missed how carefree he was before learning of his origin. Ever since Aelor found out he was a bastard now he seemed more withdrawn. He didn't like to attract attention.

"How are you?" your husband asked, approaching you and looking at you with concern. The last thing he wanted was for you to be stressed in your state. He was afraid that you would have another loss. The memory of your last pregnancy still haunted him. He didn't want to see you go through that pain again.

You took Aemond's hand and placed it on your stomach so he could feel the baby kick "The baby is fine but I'll be fine when you talk to Baelon."

"I will, I just wanted to make sure first that Aelor and you are okay," he said as he caressed your stomach feeling a little calmer when he felt the baby.

"Aemond, this can't happen again" You started to get frustrated because he didn't seem to be losing his mind like you.

"It won't happen" your husband promised but still you weren't calm. You couldn't let something like Driftmark happen. If Aemond couldn't bring Baelon to his senses then no one else in the castle could.

"I can write to Cregan Stark, I'm sure he will have no problem accepting Baelon as a pupil"

You instantly noticed how happiness disappeared from your husband's face and how he became tense. You hated being the cause of his unhappiness but you knew it was the right choice. The North would make a good man out of Baelon. You trusted that Cregan Stark wouldn't treat him differently for being a prince and he would take care not to spoil him. Baelon in the North couldn't do what he wanted, he would have to learn to respect his customs and follow his rules. Cregan could teach him that dragons weren't the only important thing in this life.

“It was just an idea to keep in mind. Please, don't be mad at me” you said caressing his face.

•••••

Baelon watched out the window as Aemon and Jaehaera flew on their dragons when he heard the door open. He turned and instantly straightened when he saw his father walk in.

He didn't expect it, he thought that his father would be comforting Aelor and it would be you who would come to scold him. A part of him was relieved to see that he was wrong. He hated to disappoint you two but his father's look didn't have the same effect as yours. He could never bear to look into your eyes for long when you scolded him because the disappointment in your eyes always made him uncomfortable.

Baelon moved, leaving more space for his father to sit next to him, but he didn't say anything. His attention returned to the dragons as he saw his twin dragon pass by, closer to the window. Daeron, his younger brother, waved at them with one hand while the other clung to Aemon's waist. If Baelon had had something within arm's reach he would have thrown it at him. It was not fair. Daeron had a dragon but he still flew as his family's companion instead of flying himself because their parents say he was still too young to have his first flight. Daeron didn't deserve a dragon. If Baelon had a dragon, he wouldn't mind their parents' prohibition, he'd still get on and fly. He would show how brave he is and he would be the best rider. They could never bring it down from the skies.

"And? Would you tell me what happened?" Asked his father making him come back to reality.

"You know what happened" Baelon grumbled looking at him with annoyance. It seemed silly to him that his father asked him to tell her about his outburst in the courtyard when it was obvious that he had already found out from his mother. He preferred that they punish him once and for all and leave him alone.

"But I want to hear it from you," Aemond said, hugging his son by the shoulders. "I want to understand what made you act like that. I know you know what you did was wrong."

His father's words only made the boy more angry.

“I didn't do anything wrong!” He instantly denied it and angrily pulled his father's arm away from him not wanting his touch. "I only made Aelor pay for stealing Shrykos from me!" he balled his hands into fists and stared at the floor.

Aemond really shouldn't be surprised that the reason for his son's attitude had to do with dragons. But he couldn't help but be disappointed at Baelon's words. It was impossible for him not to be reminded of Baela's and Rhaena's accusations that he stole Vhagar. A dragon could not be stolen. Everyone knew that the dragon chose its rider from him. He understood the pain of his son in the absence of a dragon. He understood the yearning for wanting to have his connection. He understood it better than anyone.

"Baelon, you know that a dragon chooses its rider"

The boy knew that his father was right. He wasn't stupid, he had paid attention to his lessons but he was so angry because he wasn't fair. It was the second time a dragon had rejected him. Dreamfyre seemed ready to unleash her flames until suddenly his uncle's Egg stood in front of him as he desperately shouted commands in Valyrian and pushed him to the side. Baelon burst into tears thinking his uncle would burn to death because of him, but Dreamfyre didn't do him any harm. Baelon was relieved that his uncle was still alive but another part of him wanted to scream at the injustice of him getting a dragon when everyone knew he loathed them. He tried to justify rejecting Dreamfyre by telling himself that his personality was too overwhelming for that dragon, his previous rider had been his Aunt Helaena and people said that she was too calm, and his Uncle Egg's personality was more in line with Dreamfyre.

Dreamfyre's rejection hurt him but Shrykos's was worse. Aelor was a bastard. He shouldn't have a dragon. Why would Shrykos choose Aelor over him? He has true Valyrian blood. It didn't make sense…Unless there was something wrong with him.

“Shrykos should be mine, I have the pure blood of Valyria. Aelor is a bastard and I hate him!” he declared with a red face.

"Baelon!" Aemond grabbed his shoulder and turned to face him. It wasn't the first time Baelon had heard his father so furious but he had never been the recipient of his fury. “I don't want to hear you call Aelor that way again. He is your brother, he is your family." His father's hand wasn't squeezing him but Baelon had never felt it so heavy. “We are family and as a family, we defend each other. We didn't attack each other,” he reminded him, and Baelon nodded, a lump in his throat.

"I don't hate Aelor" he admitted in a muttered voice cracking "But it's not fair that he has Shrykos, he didn't even want to go claim it! Uncle Egg didn't want a dragon either and Dreamfyre still chose him! Why can they have a dragon and I can't? What's wrong with me?" Baelon started to cry and Aemond didn't take long to hug him, feeling how his heart ached when he heard the anguish of his son.

“Baelon, there is nothing wrong with you. The only reason you don't have a dragon yet is because the one destined for you hasn't been born yet. They say your mother's dragon will soon have another litter of eggs.” Aemond declared, wiping away the boy's tears. “You'll have a dragon one day, I promise. I understand better than anyone that waiting is hard, but you have to be patient and you don't have to get mad at your siblings just for having what you want. It's not their fault that you don't have a dragon yet."

"I know," Baelon muttered, embarrassed by his attitude. "I'll go apologize to Aelor," he announced, getting down from the window ledge.

"Good. Your brother could still be in the kitchens with your uncle Aegon."

Aemond watched as his son left the room and prayed that Baelon's good attitude would last, that his son had truly reconsidered because he feared that if Baelon purposely hurt another of his brothers again you would not hesitate to send him to the North.

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