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nalyniavadelletargaryen · 5 months ago

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[ HOTD - Greif-striken Aegon ]

Summary: At the Queen Dowager's request, you take on the role of Jaehaera’s primary caregiver but bear the burden of catching the King’s eye.

Warnings: canon Aegon + dubcon / noncon + mentions of death + slight angst + hurt/comfort + smut

Grief-stricken Aegon is surprised to see you playing with his daughter in the garden, temporarily distracted from his anger by a curiosity about you. Jaehaera sits on your lap as you play with her, keeping her happy and your focus solely on her. Although the King doesn’t recognize you, he hesitates before approaching you, his anger turning into interest when you smile at him. You had been warned by his mother to be cautious of him, given the grief in the castle after the loss of the young prince. Despite your reservations, you decide to be kind and give Aegon the benefit of the doubt as you respectfully acknowledge him and then return your attention to Jaehera.

Grief-stricken Aegon leaves you with his daughter, slipping back into a quiet rage as the sight of her reminds him of Jaehaerys. You cradle the young girl close as her father stalks down the stone halls. Sighing in relief, you watch his silver locks disappear around a corner, completely relaxing when Jaehrra smiles. In a month, she had grown attached to you, mistakenly calling you 'mama' once or twice, but you always managed to correct her. Although your heart fluttered at her recognition, you knew very well that her birth mother, Queen Helena, needed no more strife and that prying ears would quickly spread the rumor of her quick attachment to you. When it happened a third time, you corrected Jaehaera as always, cheeks warm with gratitude. However, your decision remained firm. Unfortunately, you were not quick enough to hush her with a gentle reprimand, and Sir Larys overheard the young princess's adoration for you as he passed by the library where you read to her before supper. He wasted little time using the new revelation to his advantage. He tells the King of Jaehera's love for you, explaining it as a harmless but vaguely dangerous trust shift. Aegon feeds into his observation with contained interest.

Grief-stricken Aegon, overcome with sorrow, sends for you the following evening, calling you to the council room after a long day of war planning. You come at his command after putting Jahera to bed and bidding the Queen goodnight. You take your time to reach him, rightfully afraid of the man you've heard raging about the castle in a constant state of vengeance. You're particularly fearful of your growing desire to feel his pain somehow. Jaehaera is the sweet and well-mannered maiden child, much like her mother, and you can only begin to imagine how lovely her brother had been. You know well that pitying their father shouldn't be your prominent state of mind, but having a tender heart makes it devastatingly hard not to. So, you heed his call, entering the council room and standing at the doors with your head held preemptively low. You greet him quietly, withholding the tremor in your tone as you try to steel yourself against his scrutinizing stare.

Grief-stricken Aegon was far from displeased by the sight of you. Since he briefly saw you in the Keep's courtyard, hed been considering many details and assets you possessed. You appeared pious, gentle, and careful in how you presented yourself. You held the traits he knew his mother had explicitly sought: modesty and fairness. Aegon assumed you were a young lady, yet how you carried yourself made him believe you had surpassed his sister's maturity. He took note of the seven-pointed star necklace you kept clasped around your neck; the gold jewelry glinted on your bare skin, bringing out the light colors of the dresses you wore. You never bared green, a minuscule detail that pleased him. The influence of his family hadn’t reached you, and it was an odd relief. You had no allegiance to an agenda, were content with your role, and were not invested in the schemes around him. In his eyes, you were perfect, pure, and identical to the maiden herself.

Greif-stricken Aegon doesn’t confess his sins to you, though. You were never bringing to light the thoughts he’s had about you. The very sound of your voice started his descent into obsession. Hearing you sing soothing lullabies to Jaehaera, seeing you cradle her close, watching you praise her most minor achievements drove his mind to places it’d refrained from going after the death of his son. Motherly. You are sound of mind and careful with the last of his children. You embodied what his dear sister's wife couldn’t: motherhood. It drove Aegon mad in the dead night, his chambers filled with the sound of his moans as he fisted his cock to the very thought of you.

Greif-stricken Aegon refrains from forcing himself on you the first night you visit him, choosing to pry into your life with direct questions and bittersweet compliments for most of the exchange. You’re relieved to experience his generally pleasant side, amused by the scathing jokes he tells between conversations, and pleased to make him smile with your witty remarks. Your walls of caution break down little by little as he invites your company, letting you recount stories of impractical adventures with his daughter and surprisingly invested in hearing them. You ramble a bit, unsure how to feel about his direct attention and nervous to speak so casually to the King himself. Aegon reassures you that your talkative nature is anything but frustrating, reaching out to lift your chin and graze the warm skin of your cheeks with his fingertips. Your dormant blush brightens when he smiles at you, leaning in to kiss your parted lips tenderly before you can stop him. You had no intention of kissing him back, utterly shocked he'd even be so bold with you, to begin with, but he refused to let you shy away from him. One kiss spiraled into several, every one messier than the last, and your head spinning as the lingering bitterness of wine on his tongue soaked into yours. Aegon pressed for more when you pulled away to breathe. It was all too much, and you rushed to excuse yourself and leave him for the night. He didn't stop you, loving the sight of fear and excitement consuming your tender exterior at his will.

Greif-stricken Aegon calls on you often after that evening. He is no longer satisfied with pleasing himself alone. Aegon is reckless with his dependence on you, not caring that you put up a fight every time, trying to reason with him as he buries his cock in your fluttering walls. You scratch, cry, and beg. Doing and saying anything for the slightest chance of mercy, but Aegon spares you none. He forces pleasure into your veins, slaving away in your cunt night after night and committed to coating your untouched womb with his seed. You feel trapped in the cycle he starts, fulfilling your duties by day and spreading your legs for him at night. It tore you to pieces that your body ached for him constantly, the very shape of cock engraved into you, the space between your thighs undeniably drenched hours before he had you entrapped in his embrace. It’s distracting. He is distracting, and it's no help that he begins to spend more time with his daughter to spend even more with you. Aegon’s hands constantly wander where they shouldn’t, tracing your curves over the binds of your dress as you tend to Jaehaera, and it takes all of your will not to run from him. He feeds on your unease, your breaths slower, eyes fixed in the distance, and the apple of your cheeks turning red. He tells you to settle down, focus on your duties, and disregard his lingering presence, and by the gods grace, you can do just that. It’s a relief that his mother, grandsire, or anyone of consequence steals him away. You say nothing to keep him at your side, missing the feeling of his hands, the sound of his voice, and the air of control he envelopes you in, but joyous to be free of him. You can focus. You can calm the heat in your core.

Greif-striken Aegon takes no issue with keeping you in his bed for hours on end, marveling at the sight of you falling apart on his cock, begging for more of it as your legs shake from another high. You’ve given up on running, on reasoning, on being moderately intelligent, enduring the deep thrusts and mind-numbing pace he sets in thinly veiled excitement. There’s no point of hiding uit any longer, no viable way of convincing him you don’t want him to take you. Its your obligation to please him, to be that perfect little mistress, to give his lonely daughter a new playmate is it not? So, you resort to embracing his attention - as unforgiving and possessive as it may be.

Grief-stricken Aegon doesn’t ask your permission to release inside of you, forcing his seed as deep as possible, holding you down in a vice grip anytime you attempt to writhe away. It’s warm, thick, and filling. You’ve only tried to bathe once after hours of him bedding you, and he was furious. From then on, Aegon denied you the choice of washing the evidence of his claim on you away and commanding you to let his seed leak from between your thighs for a minimum of a fortnight. Appalled and rightfully defiant to the idea, you first threatened to confess to his mother about your shared deeds, but Aegon taunted you. He knew you’d rather suffer his stipulation than endure the wrath of Queen Alicent’s modesty. “Tell her and see what becomes of you..” he seethes into your ear, hand tangled in your fallen hair to keep you bent over the edge of his bed, snapping his hips harder against you when a half-hearted cry falls from your lips. You won't tell her. You can't even begin to think of unburdening yourself without acknowledging the joy you took in being used for his pleasure. Even now, as your essence dripped down your inner thighs, coating his cock with every unforgiving movement he made, you simply gave in to sin. His sin.

Grief-stricken Aegon is unsurprised when he notices signs that you are carrying his child. You become emotionally and physically sensitive. You continue caring for Jaehera while trying to hide your changing demeanor, keeping it a secret. However, Aegon cannot help but stay close to you and treats you as if you're made from glass with little regard for those who notice him showing you favor, which draws the interest of his council members—especially his ever-vigilant mother. Days pass before the maester leaves tea for you. On the night Queen Alicent visits your chambers, she expresses disappointment and scolds you for being careless. You hesitate to follow the Dowager Queen's advice, refusing to drink the remedy left for you and crying the entire night after she takes her leave.

Greif-stricken Aegon hears of your pregnancy the day after, ever so gleeful to endure his mother's berating and nowhere near ashamed of what he's done to you. He tells you it won't be the last time you carry his child, sitting you on his lap in the privacy of his chambers as the day comes to an end, and you haven't the emotional strength to keep fighting him. What's done is done, and you have no heart for ridding yourself of his so-called ‘gift.’ It's sick and twisted, but you've fallen into the headspace he's wanted for so long. A willing servant, one dedicated to her role in his domain of power, and one who will bear as many children as he desires.

What more could a lovely, loyal girl like you ask for?

A/N: Why is it so hard to write smut for this man?! It's usually so easy, but now I'm struggling. It's unfair because I have a lot of great ideas…

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Credits to the creator 💚 He owns 85% of the space in my gallery app. I'm obsessed, and it shows…

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