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damn-stark · 4 months ago

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Chapter 16 And wisdom choke you

Chapter 16 of Moonlight

A/N- Aegon: “Maester the psychos are loose. Help me.”

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy, ANGST!!, fluff!!, Aegon, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x06-2x07

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

Of course, you knew Aemond was going to kick his mother out of the Small Council. He said he didn't think she was really needed there anymore.

You also saw his unwillingness as he told you.

Is that why she’s here interrupting your peace?

“You look very lovely today, Your Grace,” Alicent offers you sweet words as if working up to her bribe. Or not?

Then again it’s not like you seek each other's company, so she most likely wants to talk about Aemond with you, and you have some idea what she might say. She was basically yelling it at you for help during the Small Council meeting.

Still, you pretend you don't have a clue and spare a glance at the pretty teal dress decorated with embroidered stars on the long capes that cascade down your shoulders, and then look over at her and notice her studying the pearl headpiece that you wear, the golden arm sleeves that hang from your armbands and weigh down your arms before she meets your gaze and gives you a smile.

“I have to say I always like how you dress, and I don’t know how you do it with your morning sickness.” She says and takes a step closer while you offer her a genuine smile.

“I will admit I don’t know how I do it either, I’d rather be abed, but,” you sigh and take a glance around. “There’s stuff to be done and I really hate being bored and so plain dressed. I blame my father for that.” You laugh softly. “There was never a day I did not see him dressed so extravagantly…except for when it came to training of course.”

She offers you a faint smile and adds nothing since there’s really nothing she wanted to say about your father to avoid upsetting you, and well, she really didn’t care at the moment.

“After the small council meeting, I could not help but hear that you are having trouble keeping food down,” Alicent brings up to not drift away too far.

You nod. “Yes, I,” you pause and drop your gaze as you find that your next words come easy to you. Is it because the way she framed her question is how your mother would have asked you? Or because you really are seeking some help on the matter?

“…I have been finding it hard between not being hungry and not keeping the food down, or my head and stomach aching,” you spill out your troubles out of desperation. “I never had that while I was expecting Aerion. It was rather easy then.”

Alicent finishes closing the distance between you to be able to grab your arm as she looks at you softly, making her brown eyes almost inviting to get lost in.

“It’s all normal, not every experience will be the same, especially with twins,” she tries to offer you what you seek. “Morning sickness goes away, I found that ginger tea with drops of lemon juice helped me when I was feeling under the weather with Daeron.”

You take in her suggestion with a gentle nod and soon thereafter see her hand gently slide off your arm.

“It will go away. Just like one of the twins will grow like their sibling, don’t worry,” she adds, making you swallow back nervously and nod in comprehension.

“Aemond,” you share in a soft voice that you rarely use when you’re talking with her. “Has tried to read into it. I caught him this morning since it’s the only time he can dive back into his own pleasures before Regent duties steal his attention.”

Alicent blinks and her eyes lose that sweet attempt at being comforting, instead, something else flickers within that makes her eyes dull and her lips droop to a long forming frown.

“He has really jumped into his role as Regent hasn’t he?” She mutters and takes a step back. “He would be so quiet at meetings with Aegon, now…” she trails off and pauses whilst her eyes search the white tree behind you. “He's…different. Colder.”

You take in her words to try and find the fault she clearly sees, but you find nothing. “Well…we are in a time of war. He needs to be hard so people listen, a gentle voice makes them too lenient and carefree like Lord Jason Lannister.”

Alicents eyes snap to you and the corner of her lips twitch with discontent, yet she doesn’t give up.

“Does that mean having to kick his own mother out of the Small Council?” She now blurts, making you stiffen only because it’s awkward and something she should talk about with anyone else but you.

“If it’s any consolation, the decision wasn’t easy to make,” you reveal, causing her eyebrows to briefly meet in the middle as she’s slightly surprised by the words you admit. But then her expression changes as she’s proven right.

“I see,” she mumbles and drifts her eyes away for a moment before she lifts her head up high to slowly look at you with this desperation that makes her eyes wide and glisten as if she wants to lure you in.

“You and Aemond are close, I see that. I have always seen it since you were children, but now that you’re married, now that you have a family of your own it seems that connection has only grown,” she rolls out of her tongue. “I’m glad that he has someone he loves, a best friend with a key to his heart. He needs that now more than ever.”

You blink and slowly figure her out. Those sweet words, and that thing she’s doing with her eyes.

“He needs someone to keep him calm, someone to make him see reason,” she continues to ramble. “And I’m glad that it’s you. You’re gentle just like your mother. You have reason. And you’re smart.”

And once again she’s proving that she does not know you. The way you are is a reason why your mother was also hesitant to let you fight, like Jacaerys you’re quick to upset, so you suppose you get that from her.

“You have to be his reason, you have to be like a voice in his head, and I know it’s not always easy but you are the only one with access to his heart—”

“And I have no means of changing it,” you cut off her rambling while looking at her with discontent and disapproval. “He can’t be on his ass, or be some lenient Regent who lets people walk over him. He has to put his foot down; he has to get his hands dirty. We’re at war. You see that, you have lost a soul because of this war, do you want to lose more?” You snap at her in defense of Aemond.

“I will interfere when I can,” you admit but that doesn’t offer her peace of mind, instead she grows more upset. “But I won't bend him at the will of anyone just so he can what? Give you your seat back on the Small Council?”

Alicent swallows back nervously and drags in a deep breath that makes her chest rise high. When she lets the breath go it comes out shaky and her eyes now glisten because she’s being attacked.

Yet she doesn’t let herself be defeated just yet; she holds your gaze and tries to jab back. “I wonder if you will say the same thing in regards to him hurting more of your family? Or do you say this now because it benefits you?”

Your jaw clenches and your anger is quickly summoned, but you’re also quick to reel it back to respond with an icy demeanor that works to intimidate her more than your anger would.

“Have you ever been in love?” You catch her off guard with your question, and as you see that you give her a moment to collect herself and gather her thoughts.

Albeit her lips part and she doesn’t answer, her eyebrows knit together and she looks at you troubled, as if the question itself is physically tolling.

You see that so answer for her. “I will take that as a no, so I will explain it to you,” you continue with a hint of cockiness behind every word. “I tried hating Aemond, I did. I told him that, but…no matter what he did, I can’t muster myself to. I can’t even muster a smidge of hate. Even when I’m mad at him he’s such a relief to see, does that make me foolish? Maybe. Maybe I am foolish for loving someone who killed my brother, but…” you trail off and swallow back thickly.

“My heart sings for him, for every part of him. The bad parts, and especially the good ones. That’s what love is. It’s loving every part of them. It’s not about changing them to your will, you can guide them, and help them, but why would you want to change who they are? If you’re going to be with someone, it's because you love who they are. Why would you be with someone that you want to change?”

Alicent blinks repeatedly and tries hard to fight the tears brought by defeat and guilt.

“I see who Aemond is turning out to be,” you try to be understanding. “I see his anger, but don’t you see that he’s always been like that? Deep inside it’s who he is, who was made to be. And he’s not all bad, he just can’t express his desperation to keep his family safe, don’t you see that? He’s not only working for my son and me but for you and Helaena. So no…I won’t change him. I love him. I love who he is. I love all of him,” you say those last words tenderly and it almost works to convince her that it will all be fine, but you see it, she’s still scared of him, of who’s coming out of the shadows.

And maybe soon you will change your mind, he will do things that will make you change your mind, but right now you believe every word that comes out of your mouth. You love him with all of yourself. You love all of him.

“We’re at war, Alicent, we have to be ruthless. Us, more than anyone because we’re women. Learn that,” you offer her a piece of advice and take a deep breath before you walk away from her, catching Helaena approaching the Godswood.

“Your Grace,” you greet her and curtsy.

Helaena curtsy back. “Your Grace,” she says back with a tiny smile. “You are Regent now.”

You scoff in amusement and see her pass her focus to Alicent. “Mother,” she greets. “I hope I am not interrupting.”

You shake your head. “No, we just got done talking.”

Helaena hums and her eyes drift back to you. “I was hoping we could take a stroll to talk. Are you busy?”

You beam at her and shake your head. “Nope, the rest of my day is open, so I’m all yours,” you assure her and skip over to her to fall at her side and guide her away. Yet before she can walk with you she bids her mother a goodbye.

“I will see you later.”

Alicent offers her daughter a sweet smile and redirects a short goodbye, letting Helaena then give most of her attention to you, and little attention to where you walk. And it’s good that she does because the truth is, you don’t pay much mind to where you walk, you just walk with your shadows trailing behind you.

“Have you thought of any names for the twins?” Helaena wanders.

You clasp your hands behind you and sigh. “I have thought of them, but I am still indecisive.”

Helaena hums and then turns her head to look at you with excitement. “When I was expecting the twins I was really eager to think of names. I remember. So perhaps I can give you some ideas, like, Shiera, or Gael for girls and for boys maybe Laenor, like your father.”

You blink repeatedly and a sweet and tender smile spreads on your lips. “Yes, I think Laenor would be a perfect name…if I have a boy…you don’t happen to know do you?” You try and probe, making her look away and lose herself in the distance.

“No,” she says thoughtfully. “My dreams…well…I can’t really conjure up what to dream. Do you understand? It all just comes when it wants.”

You follow her line of gaze and hum in comprehension. “It must be heavy. Knowing so much stuff, I mean.”

Helaena blinks and her eyes fall to her hands. “Well…I have had them since I can remember, so the weight is not something I feel anymore.”

You look at her with slight pity, but she looks at you with a very faint smile. “But that’s why I like going on dragonback, I feel free in a lot of ways when I’m in the sky with Dreamfyre. That’s why I liked it when we went flying together. Will we be able to fly together soon, do you think?”

You see the hope clinging to her eyes. You see the desire to have something not tainted by this war. And it makes it hard to be honest, but you can’t lie either. “I hope so. I miss flying without worrying that I’ll hit the blockade, or run into armies of men ready to shoot down my dragon, or me,” you don’t avoid the truth, even as bleak as it sounds.

“Maybe once this war is over and we don’t have to worry about coming across angry people, then we can fly as freely as we want and land on a small Island where we can swim, and watch the sunset. Now that our children have dragons of their own,” you muse with a grin.

Yet Helaena fails to mirror that hopeful joy, or any joy at all, her eyes remain downcast, but this time a small frown curls on her lips and her eyebrows knit together.

“Are you…okay?” You press carefully, gaining her immediate attention as if caught by surprise.

“Yes,” she answers bluntly.

You search her gaze, but like many times before, you can’t read her. You wish you could, you wish you could know all that she knows but you also know that if you did your mind would collapse with all that knowledge, and it would probably cease to exist. So you leave it untouched and leave it up to her to share what she wants or deems significant.

Thus you move on to a peaceful silence you both don’t mind being wrapped in. There does come times when you comment something to each other, but it’s never heavy, it’s lighthearted to be able to escape from the wrath and find peace with each other.

There’s also never a sign of a grudge from her since you are Regent now. She actually thanks you for taking the attention away from her and says if she could, she would give you the title to return to her humble living as a princess. But she can’t do such a thing so she gives you her thanks instead and adds that she’s also grateful that she feels tranquil when you’re with each other, causing you to think that if you had a sister you would want her to be as gentle and sweet as Helaena.

Actually, Helaena is like a sister to you. She might be older than you, but she feels like a little sister you must protect at all costs. You want to shield her from this terrible world the same way you want to shield your little brothers.

She’s too fragile and good for this world, you want to protect her from that, but you also want her to fight, to grow thorns like a fragile rose so she’s not so easily plucked. But alas you know a lot of people can’t and aren’t like that and that’s okay too. You’ll protect her regardless, you’ll be the thorns to her rose. A fire a dragon breathes, and the sharp teeth they bear. Just for her.

——

*LATER*

Whilst on your stroll with Helaena, you found yourself near the roofs where Aemond and you would escape to when you were kids, where all you had at that moment was each other's company, and you couldn’t stop thinking of those sweet moments when everything was much more simple. Maybe that’s why later that same day you found yourself sitting on the roof watching the sun set so peacefully as if it doesn't hide tragedy on its horizon, and hoping that you could still grasp onto those simple times even if you know they’re nothing but a memory now.

“Aren’t you cold?” A soft voice cuts in through the chilly air. “With your back exposed like that?”

You must have summoned Aemond with your mind, or perhaps you just missed each other when you came up to the roofs and he went to your chambers.

“Beauty is pain,” you remark with a cheeky grin. “You of all people should know that. Tell me, how painful is it being so beautiful?” You lull out cheekily, and when you look over your shoulder you catch a rosy blush on his cheeks that makes you grin and feel accomplished.

“No, but really,” you scoff and look back at the bleeding sunset. “I don’t mind it much.”

“Is it that warm flesh of yours?” He quips but also wonders out of curiosity.

You sigh deeply and wait until he’s sitting by you before you shake your head. “No. I just don’t mind the cold because I prefer less constrictive gowns. Why?” You roll out and tilt your head to the side to look at him with a pressing gaze. “Am I exposing myself too much for your liking husband?”

Aemond rolls his eye but doesn’t actually argue to prove you wrong.

“It’s not like what I say will stop you from wearing what you like,” he mutters to the part of the sky that’s already littered with stars.

“Nope,” you deadpan. “And it doesn’t seem like you mind them much when you’re gawking at me.”

Aemond scoffs and you look over at him with a smirk twitching on your lips. He then slowly drifts his eyes over to you and a smirk flashes on his lips before he smiles shyly at the book that you barely notice on his lap.

“I find you beautiful in everything you wear,” he says, making you giggle and drop your head on his shoulder—“I just don’t like when other people gawk. Like my uncle.”

“Your uncle is older than my mother,” you comment. “And thinks he’s younger than he is…no offense or anything.”

Aemond doesn’t argue in his uncle's defense so you continue.

“Don’t worry about anyone. I will only have eyes for you, and I will only be yours,” you finish in a whisper.

Aemond remains quiet and just presses a kiss on the top of your head without moving his lips away after that moment. He keeps his lips and nose nuzzled against your head and now admires the same blazing horizon you do, going unaware of your current desire to grasp at some reminder of the simple times to relive them just for a little bit. You want to live back in those moments for a while, you long for it, but you also figure out that it’s something that you can’t fight to get back. You can only reminisce and live through what life has to offer you now.

“Aemond,” you whisper shakily and want to pull away to meet him in the eye, but you’re also afraid of what you’ll see, so you stay as you are and watch as the horizon gets distorted with tears that build in your eyes. “Are you scared…of me? Of what I can do?”

Right away he sees that any hesitation will make you doubt and make you question everything about yourself, so he answers right away without an ounce of deceit. “No, should I be?”

You shake your head lightly and whisper. “No. I don’t want you to be.”

“I’m not,” he presses so you can finally cement that in your heart and stop overthinking.

“Good,” you whisper that to yourself before you finally decide to touch on the unspoken subject. “I would have said something if I knew what I was, or why I can’t be hurt by fire. I’ve been trying to look into it, but I cannot find anything. I wanted to find what I could be before I told anyone so I didn’t seem mad. Do you understand?”

Aemond hums and lingers in his silence before he pulls away and pushes the book towards you. “It was one of my father's books Aegon had stashed.”

You look at Aemond with awe because that’s all that befalls you at that very moment as you come to realize that he’s been trying to read more into what you could be, or what could have led to you being immune to fire.

You didn’t even ask him to do it.

“I could not find much, I’m sure there’s something in Dragonstone, or somewhere lost in the world, but what I did find…” he continues to make your heart dance, and your love for him to grow. “…was that our Valyrian ancestors would practice blood magic in Old Valyria, I’m sure it came from something magic-related.”

You scoff and finally tear your eyes off him to look at the pages you flip through. “So I’m cursed?”

“No,” Aemond quickly scoffs and looks at the pages you’re going through. “You are not hurt by fire, I would not call that being cursed. I think it makes you special,” he speaks softly and full of fascination, and as soon as you catch that oozing off his voice you stop flipping through the pages and slowly look at him with relief, disbelief, and just utter awe that he doesn’t shame you and proves what you saw that night right.

He sees you. He knows you’re something so much more, something important and that can mean so much.

Albeit at this very moment he is averting your gaze out of timidness, proving Alicent’s fears wrong. He’s no monster, and it’s sad that she thinks that.

“You think so?” You still ask for reassurance.

Aemond’s gaze lingers on the page before he slowly meets your gaze with a soft smile and adoration that makes his blue eye soft and easy to get lost in. “I know it. I’m certain of it.”

Your heart flutters, causing your lips to tremble as happy tears fill your eyes.

Sure perhaps if you confided in your mother or someone else you trust they too would say a variation of the same thing, but there’s something about not having to tell Aemond, about him discovering it for himself that makes this so much more special, and so much more tender. If only you knew what was really rushing through his mind, you would have probably collapsed or had some heart attack.

And he wants to tell you every feeling that’s making his heart mad with more love and lust, but he keeps it all in to avoid sounding mad to you. He doesn’t want you to think he’s mad, even if you probably wouldn’t, he doesn’t tell you how special you both are because he rides the largest dragon and you have fire-made flesh.

You both are Regents now too. You are both ruthless, you are both called for greater deeds, you both are greater than those below you, and you are one in the same now. He used to think that before but now…now you are one.

That’s what he thinks…

“I’m glad you think so,” you mumble and reach your hand over to cup his jaw and caress his cheek with your thumb as you just relish in how grateful you are that he understands and that he looks at you with admiration and love rather than fear.

“And thank you for trying to look for an answer,” you add. “It means a lot.”

He brings his hand up to cup yours and caresses your knuckles while he just stares at you in awe.

“You are special,” he makes it clear to you and your dancing heart swooning for him. “You always have been special to me.”

You lean in but don’t press your lips against his right away. You stop to smile in relief first before you close that distance with a slow and passionate kiss that you both find sync in quickly and move like you’re starving for each other's taste.

It’s no wonder why you came out with a child 4 months after having your first son. Neither of you can keep your hands off each other, or keep your lips from molding into each other. And now with you both being regent and the discovery of this gift, you find a new and hotter vigor for each other.

Yet neither of you get carried away right then at that moment. You pull away after a while to catch your breaths and press your forehead against his to avoid losing contact.

Rather than basking in the silence that the night has to offer on the roofs, you find words to share through your heavy breaths. “Will you let me fight now? I don’t want to be sitting here waiting to hear news. I want…I want to fight on my dragon. I don’t have to fight on the ground, just let me be on Astraea. We can help. Please,” you beg and stroke his cheek.

Aemond licks his lips and peels away to meet your waiting gaze. He parts his lips, but nothing comes out but hesitation that you quickly rebuttal

“At least when we’re together then,” you try to lure him to agree. “So you can be there if anything does happen. Please. I won’t get burnt, you know that. I will wear armor. And Astraea will keep me safe.”

Aemond’s eye drifts down to your belly, so you grab his hand and press it against you. “We will be fine,” you insist. “I will be fine.”

Aemond looks up at you and clenches his jaw as he stares hard, but after a while, he sighs and gives you his answer. “Fine.”

You flash him a beaming grin before you throw your arms around him and thank him by whispering in his ear over and over again.

“Any sign of any greater danger and you’re out do you understand?” He makes sure to let you know harshly. “I will throw you over my shoulder or have you taken like you’re captive, do you understand? I am not risking your life.”

You chuckle and pull your head back but keep your arms wrapped around him to assure him. “I understand.”

Aemond groans and you give him a peck on his lips and mutter against them. “<I love you.>”

Aemond holds your gaze and pouts with discontent because you just completely defeated him, but you don't care, you brush him off to steal another kiss from him, causing him to pull away.

You ignore his frustration and flash him a smug smile before you push the book away to shift around and lay on your back with your head on his lap to be able to look up at the stars that paint the night sky. Now you know that you can’t stay up here forever, no matter how much you want to avoid this war, but there’s nothing wrong with stealing a moment for yourselves under the twinkling stars, and the bright full moon.

“I’m here,” you start to reminisce. “And I can’t help but think about how I wanted to escape. How I wanted to be somewhere else…” you trail off and Aemond rests his hand on your arm that you sling over your chest. “And if you told me that you wanted to leave right now, I would grab Aerion and I would leave with you,” you admit, making him steal a glance at you.

“But,” you add. “I like to think I have matured out of that desperate desire.”

There’s nothing Aemond can really say in response, there’s nothing you want him to say so you appreciate his silence before you finally tear your eyes away from the stars that kept you captive, and look at him with a hint of sadness, but also like you’re somewhere far.

“Do you want to know what else I dreamed about when I would find myself alone here…or anywhere?”

Aemond hums to probe so you do just that, you continue softly, ever so feathery, enchantingly so. “I would dream of being Queen.”

It’s something you knew you wanted. It’s something he knew you almost had.

it was there at your reach, but it was taken away. You have never admitted it to him, your deepest desire until now. “I wanted the power,” you say like you’re reciting the most beautiful poem. “Did that make me selfish? Power-hungry? No, I never thought of it that way because I deserved it.” You nod softly and he looks deep into your soul with a softening gaze. “It was my destiny. I wanted to be like Good Queen Alysanne, like Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror. I dreamt of it, I pictured myself as Queen. I wanted to be good, I imagined I would be even though it could never be mine.”

You sigh shakily and look up at the sky as if you’re searching for that dream again amongst the stars.

“As I got older that desire turned to anger and resentment, but I was taught not to be angry about it and many things. And I was never angry at my mother or my brother, I was angry at the people who said that I couldn’t have it. I am still angry to this day. It’s deep inside me, but I still am because they took it,” you sneer but not with a loud rage, you are still soft-spoken, like you’re more sad than angry.

“And they made me feel weak,” you say between a grimace and a tremble in your voice, which Aemond catches. He catches every emotion, he’s captivated by every word and stuck on the tears that roll down your cheeks.

“They made me feel like I didn’t belong,” you continue. “Because if I’m the oldest and not my mother's heir then why? Why am I here? They…made me feel like I needed to prove myself to be something every day of my life…” you trail off and he finds tears creeping in his eye too. He finds that his throat stings because he felt what you did too when he had no dragon. Even now when he does, that need to prove himself still lingers just like it does in you.

“I understand,” he admits above a whisper, pulling your teary eyes back to him to look deep into his soul that cries as it feels understood, and as you prove to him that you are one in the same. That you were always meant to burn together—“I understand the feeling.”

You sit up and cup his cheek to wipe away his stray tear, and he mirrors your actions to wipe away the tears that roll down your own cheeks.

“But now I ride the biggest dragon,” he continues with a ferocity that he was quick to find. “And you,” he muses. “You are not hurt by fire. You are unburnt. We are Regents. We have the power, we do not need to prove anything to anyone. Not anymore. The world is ours now. We don’t have to be belittled by it anymore.”

You offer him an admiring smile and shake your head. “I don’t need the world to be mine,” you confess. “I have you, Aerion, my dragon, and the twins. That’s all I need. I am content. That’s my fight now. The power as Regent is an added bonus, I like it and if I were to have more I would make the most of it, but I am content now with you, and the little blessing you gave me.”

Aemond parts his lips, but he’s at a loss for words. All he can continue doing is admire you; your divine beauty, the sweet smile on your perfect lips, the tears that still trail down your perfectly sculpted face, and the love and awe in your eyes that make them gleam beautifully.

He really wants to say something, but he’s left knowing that all that he is, all that he wants to be, and all that he wanted to be, exists there with you.

He exists only for you, for his son, for his mother and sister, but you hold a special place in his heart because you continue to see him. You understand his conflicted soul more than anyone and he appreciates that understanding, and thanks it with kisses, with deep and passionate kisses that lead to neither of you wanting to part. They engulf you both with desire that takes you back to your chambers where you demand to be alone even if that sends your son away to different chambers.

Your passion drives you mad with lust and with the need to please each other in different ways. Your heated passion leaves you unsatisfied after one round and makes you want more and more until you're both exhausted, but completely full and happily satisfied.

Sleep came to be quite minimal after. Your days start earlier now, but you both found yourselves awake so you filled the silence while you waited for the day to get started for you.

He mostly complained though, but you don’t mind. You like that he shares his complaints with you.

“Lord Jason is just scared, it’s normal,” you try to ease the crease that forms between his brows. “He’s never fought a war, he’s scared.”

Aemond shakes his head and parts his lips to argue but you cut him off to get your point across. “With that said, am I excusing how lazy he’s being? No. He’s being too lenient and not taking it as seriously as he should. The boost in power has gotten to his head.”

Aemond sighs deeply and mutters. “He's only head of the army because of his brother, I would have chosen someone else for the job, someone who doesn’t need me to go to his rescue to get the job done sooner.”

You stop tracing circles on the mattress and snicker before you tilt your head up to steal a glance at Aemond. “I hear he’s taken lions with him,” you add with a teasing smile growing on your lips. “What exactly are they supposed to do?”

Aemond crosses his arms over his bare chest and mutters. “They want to be like us. They want to rule the land because they see we rule the sky.”

You shift your head down on your palm and giggle. “Them and their golden lions are funny. They believe their golden lions are like our dragons, but they can’t stand on the clouds, they roll in the dirt and call those clouds.”

Aemond chuckles, and as you lay on your side with your head resting on your propped-up hand, you slide your hand over his torso. “With a lion, if you turn your back, they dig their claws in you, no matter how long you’ve raised them. With dragons, you bond with them and they will forever be bound to your soul, they are a part of your soul. So no matter how hard they all try, no house will ever reach us as long as our dragons live.”

Aemond hums, and you press your fingers on his torso before you slide them over and look up with a slightly narrowed look. “That’s why you need to remind this Lord Lion that he’s no one to be ordering you or anyone else around. If he’s a coward who needs a security blanket to fight then tell him you will find someone else who can.”

“And if Daemon does decide to meet them in battle?” Aemond does let you hear some of his doubt, and as possible as it is, you doubt he will. At least you hope he won’t, there’s other battles to fight with Caraxes, it doesn’t seem like he’d be bothered to fight against Lord Jason unless they’re desperate or want an easy win.

“Then he meets them, but I doubt that Daemon will bother to fight any Lannister army. If it was Ser Criston then yes, I would say you should worry, but it’s not, so I would not give it a second thought. He'll send another army to fight for him.”

Aemond nods gently in comprehension and you stare at him for a lingering moment with a growing smile before you climb up the bed to be face to face. “Will you miss me at today's small council meeting?”

Aemond lazily hangs his arm over your waist and glances down at your lips. “Well, I’ll have to be stuck staring at old men and toads so yes.”

You laugh and query. “Toads?”

“Lord Larys.”

You snort and smack his shoulder. “That’s…true,” you wanted to say it was rude but as you think about it now it’s true. “Well,” you roll out and scale your fingers up to caress his chest. “If you ever miss me throughout the day just come to our quarters I’ll be here all day getting my braids done.”

Aemond huffs softly and can’t help but cup your cheek, the same cheek that bears the scar he made six years ago, and hovers his thumb over the scar before he gently trails it.

“Just remember,” you speak softly and grab his hand. “Clear mind Aemond. Don’t let your anger blind you. I know sometimes the men around you can be irritating and all you want to do is lash out, but anger doesn’t work in this situation. It doesn’t work when it comes to planning, okay? Clear mind and hold your anger back for this, hm?”

Aemond doesn’t say anything in return, he just presses a kiss on the heel of your hand and you take that as a comprehensive response.

Not so much later Vanessa, Aerion’s wetnurse, and servants barge in and your lax morning is upturned to a rowdy morning and you know your day has kickstarted. No more rest, and there’s only a little privacy while you break fast, but that serenity is cut short soon thereafter by Aerion crying. At least this morning you could stomach—or the twins felt like letting you eat so you really take that as a positive first step of a good day. Or as good as a day can be nowadays.

Can you say the rest of the day you're going through is bad? No, mostly because when you’re in your chambers sometimes it feels like the day passes over you. The news doesn’t come to you right away, and since you aren’t going out of your way to seek it you have to wait for it to come to you. You live in a little bubble when days like today are spent surrounded by the four walls of your quarters. Do you mind it?

Not today. You enjoy basking in the obliviousness, you enjoy the escape, the serenity as Vanessa takes her time to carefully braid your white hair whilst you pass golden cuffs, and pearls that hang from rings so she can put them in your hair.

She doesn’t tug too harshly, she’s gentle, slow, and very intricate with each braid, and each placement of the pearls, and the cuffs, that you could fall asleep. Actually, sometimes you do find yourself dozing off while you’re reading, but mostly you sit in the serenity that obliviousness brings.

“Perhaps soon I can wear that gown from Yi-Ti, the sea green one that looks blue under certain lights?” You ask for an opinion. “That one is my favorite because of the black chest piece that comes with the cloak. It’s very…exquisite, and the embroidery on the sleeves and all the golden accessories it comes with,” you swoon. “I wish I lived there, I would need a castle just for my wardrobe!”

“You should see how they dress when the summer is at its peak,” Ser Jason cuts into the conversation. “The silks are truly…silk.”

You snort and look at him through the mirror as he puts down books you needed from the library, but couldn't get at this very moment.

“You’ve been to Yi-Ti?” You muse and get tempted to turn around, but Vanessa would scold you for moving so you just stare at the knight in awe and envy.

Ser Jason’s eyes flicker to the ground and he hesitates before he nods gently. “Yes, not long, but I’ve been at the peak of summer.”

Your smile slowly grows to a grin and you probe because that’s all you can do. “Is it as they say? Is it really so beautiful? Are there golden castles?”

Ser Jason chuckles and shakes his head as he keeps avoiding eye contact and stands incredibly still. “No, those are just tall tales, but they do have a lot of gold. Statues, the peak of roofs, and tapestries lined with beautiful golden threads that almost look like rich gold. And the food,” he sighs as if recalling the taste in his mouth.

“It’s otherworldly,” you let him keep filling your head with tales of his life, a life you wish you could live just to see those wonders he got to see with his own eyes. “I…I would love to describe it, but there’s truly no words I could use to describe how all those flavors dance on one's tongue.”

You nod gently and hope for more, but he looks at you through the mirror and falters. That confidence he garnered to speak of those marvels is lost and he’s reverted back to his stammering and timidness. “Of course, you…you should go witness it all for yourself. You would love it.”

That wonder twinkling in your eyes dims and your smile is not as sweet. “It’s easier said than done sadly. I have jewelry with rare gems from Yi-Ti, I have gowns made with their rich fabrics and designed by their creative minds, but that’s how far I go.”

“You'd think with all the money and privilege you wouldn’t let them tell you how to live your life,” he dares to say, causing your second sworn protector to peek his head inside after what he overheard, while you and Vanessa stiffen and look at the sudden bold knight.

“One would think,” you hit back and catch his eyes widening in shock as if he did not actually expect you to respond, or as if shocked about what came out of his mouth is true.

“But I am a woman, a princess, and the only daughter of a queen, my life has been planned since the moment I was born,” your voice goes hard and cold while your eyes express the same bitterness. “Stories and dreams are as far as I go.”

Ser Jason blinks repeatedly as his mouth is left agape. “I know women with just as much who left it all behind to find a lot more riches in accomplishing their dreams.”

Your eyes flicker to a glare, but tears break through as you slowly come to realize that all you have is dreams of grand places and grand adventures. There’s nothing you can do but dream again. He returns that cruel reminder to your mind.

“Thank you, Ser,” you dismiss him and avert your gaze so you don’t know how he reacts, you just know Ser Cane Clegane steps in to watch the knight walk out before closing the door and leaving Vanessa and you alone once again. Now though the serenity you once relished is a dream too.

“Princess,” Vanessa whispers with traces of pity, so you quickly shut her down.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about the plans Mysaria sent?” You abruptly change the subject to something you did not want to touch just yet but have to now. “Are they ready?”

Vanessa glances back and makes sure the door is closed before she stops braiding your hair and leans down to whisper. “All done. The food will be sent later tonight and should arrive in the morrow.”

Food. That’s the plan your mother has so far. It’s an excellent plan in response to all the hungry smallfolk just wanting food but getting scraps or worse from their King, and Regent.

The smallfolk will know who to thank and start to look at your mother with hope for a change, which means they will do as she wants and gain their love and support.

“We will make sure to keep away from the city tomorrow then,” you say and watch Vanessa back up to continue doing what she was doing. “It will be chaos.”

She hums and only seconds later the doors get thrown open and in comes your beloved husband in a huff.

“What is it?” You ask right away as you notice his nose is flared and his jaw is clenched.

He doesn’t look injured so it doesn’t seem like he got hurt at the training yard or anywhere else for that matter. He looks pissed though, so something is bothering him.

“It’s,” he heaves. “Aegon. He’s awoken.”

You blink in disbelief. “But,” you shake your head. “The maester said there was little chance he would wake.”

Aemond lets out a heavy breath and walks up to your vanity to lean against it so you’re able to face him and his contorted face.

“So he said, but…it seems my brother beat the odds. He fought for once,” he grumbles and drops his glare on his fiddling hands, so you give Vanessa a break before you lean forward and place your hands over Aemond’s cold but soft hands.

“He still can’t walk, or probably stay awake for that long for that matter,” you try to make his mind clear of all the thoughts rushing behind his eye and clouding his mind. “He won’t be that competent.”

Aemond watches his thumb brush over your fingers and whispers. “And what he did to you while I was away? Does he get away with that?”

You secure your hold on his hand and pull his gaze to you, letting you offer him an assuring smile. “He won’t be as he was ever again. That’s enough justice.”

Yet you aren’t completely satisfied yet, but that’s something Aemond can’t fulfill. You have to. You will.

“Is it?” He asks as if he can read the thoughts in your mind.

You offer him a small but assuring nod that he takes to heart. “It is.” You try to assure him, but neither him nor you are left satisfied. Yet that’s not something either of you share, you just individually know you will selfishly reach for that piece of justice yourselves because you won’t be left savoring even a piece of it.

——

*LATER*

Aemond has been caught up handling some business you don’t care about so you take advantage of being left alone and go visit your King, since he’s awake now. What a miracle!

You just want to check on him, on his wounds and mental state. You want to give him your best wishes so he can have a quick recovery. That’s all.

You tell that to his Kingsguard protecting his chambers, but it’s not like they had any say in letting you in or not. They’re hesitant, they make excuses that he’s going to take milk of the poppy and fall asleep again, but you don’t care. You walk in with your long beautiful gown flowing behind you, and a golden candle handler in your hand to light your way.

Oh, and when you walk in you don’t forget to continue humming a haunting and menacing song that sends a chill down the spines of the servants and the Maesters tending to Aegon, while the king himself is confused. One could say he felt like he was dreaming, your humming was faint at first, but the haunting melody still managed to swirl in his ear. Even as your silhouette was beginning to get conjured up on the curtains covering his bed, he did not expect you to appear out of your own will.

Thus when the sheer curtains are slowly pulled to the side and you appear there like some haunting ghost, he still does not think you're real.

“Leave us,” you cut your humming off to demand the maesters and the servant girls away.

“But—” a maester tries to argue, but you snap your eyes to him and shoot him a menacing glare that shuts him up and makes him bow his head.

“I will give him the milk of the poppy,” you add to reassure the maester while you return your eyes to Aegon.

Once you know that the maesters and the servant girls are gone, you start humming again, but this time much more softer than before, making Aegon more convinced that you’re haunting his dreams.

He does watch you walk to him slowly with your eyes fixated on his flared scars still red and raw, but all he knows for sure is that his breathing is picking up while goosebumps crawl down his spine as he also feels captivated. Even more so when you come to a stop just under the moonlight that reflects inside his quarters.

The bright light completely captures you in its soft hue. It makes the golden cuffs, and the golden rings holding the pearls in your hair, glimmer, while your long silver-white hair itself almost gleams like thousands of pristine diamonds. And perhaps that's your only intention, just presenting yourself, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if you intend to smile at him either, but you do and his chambers now are completely silent, striking more fear to his heart.

Yet he still thinks he’s dreaming.

“Did it hurt?” You fill the silence with your question and study the part of his face that now is forever scared because of the dragonfire that feasted on his flesh.

“I have always wondered,” you continue in a sweet voice while you tilt your head up just slightly to look at the bald spot that now leaves part of his head naked. “I can gladly say that I have never been hurt by fire,” you reveal and bring your eyes back down to meet his gaze while you let your fingers graze the flames that you hold on your candles.

“I have never winced at the touch of candle fire, boiling water has never scolded my skin or my tongue. And never have I once been bothered by hearths or pyres whose flame grows too wild. So,” you roll out and take a seat beside him on the bed. “I always have wondered what it’s like to feel hurt by fire like you were.”

A smirk tugs on your lips and he realizes at this instant as the candlelight shows off your smirk, that this is no dream. You’re actually at his bedside looking at him the same way Aemond looked at him earlier today, like Aegon was nothing, like he wasn’t still king. You're looking at him as if was pathetic and nothing but someone to take pity on; he can see those thoughts playing behind your eyes and on the corner of your lips.

You were sitting, but you now cast a shadow over him that made his cower. The same way he made you feel not long ago when he visited your chambers while Aemond was gone.

But that was your intention, that’s why you’re here. You have the power now, it doesn’t matter if he’s king. You have the power and he knows it, he sees that darkness in your eyes the same way he saw it in Aemond’s eye.

“I would say it’s like drowning. You have that need to fight to survive, but,” you click your tongue and lean towards him, making him swallow back nervously and attempt to scoot away, but to no avail. He can’t move a muscle. “When the fire is eating away at your flesh I can’t imagine you can move all that much. You must be paralyzed, cut away from every message your head sends to your screaming muscles, hoping that your adrenaline can be your salvation, but all it can do is give you the power to cry and scream out your pain. Is that right, Aegon?” You direct the question at him and look at him not with curiosity but with a mocking look.

“Le…”

“Ah-ah,” you click your tongue and drag yourself closer to him to shush him. “Don’t waste your energy. It’s okay.”

You flash him another smile and hold his gaze as you push the melting candles toward his already scarred flesh, making him gasp and start to heave.

“I just want to see,” you mutter. “Maybe hear you whimper just a little to know what it’s like, you know? Live it through someone else.” You chuckle.

“Crazy bitch,” he manages to say and you slowly grin and manage to get the flames close to his skin, to the point the heat stings. Yet before the fire can actually give him a peck you pull the candles away and just keep smiling at him.

“It was a jest,” you giggle and slither your fingers up to play with the flames. “Laugh. You like jests don’t you?”

He wants to curl his lips to a scowl, but his lips just twitch in some feeble attempt.

“Hm. Well, that’s all,” you end his torture and push yourself to your feet.

Before you can walk out though, you put the candle stand down on the bedside table and grab the milk of the poppy.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you interject and twirl around. “You are going to be an uncle to twins, is that not great? We’re hoping for girls now since we have our boy…” you trail off and lean towards him to bring the milk of the poppy to his lips. “…our heir.”

Aegon lips part to attempt to argue, but you take that as a need for his sedative, so you bring the cup to his lips and help him drink the milk of the poppy. Once the cup is empty you pull away and replace it with the candle stand.

“Goodnight, Aegon. Sweet dreams,” you tease and twirl back around to leave his chambers, but not without continuing to hum your haunting song that you make sure to travel with until you know that the king or his guards will hear you. After you put some distance and your humming doesn’t echo in their ears anymore you return to the safety of your chambers in silence.

After that, you hoped not to run into Aemond, or find him in your chambers. You just don’t want to be bombarded with questions, that’s all.

Nevertheless, luckily Aemond doesn’t join you in your shared quarters until several minutes later, so you’re spared. And since you were donning your nightgown by the time he walked in he didn’t even know you had just returned either, so unknowingly both of your visits to Aegon are unspoken of, you just individually relish in the torment you gave him. Which honestly doesn’t paint you as the most sane couple or people at all, but at least now your hunger for justice is satisfied.

That’s what lets you both actually find a peaceful sleep, that little win.

Little wins are all the rage in times like now, so you cherish them. Even if they’re small and insignificant. Even if they have nothing to do with war and battle and have everything to do with your day-to-day lives, you cherish them. You cherish good mornings too, simple ones.

Happiness is even simple when you’re not taking it for granted, and when you know where to find it, like, waking up and having Aemond lay his head on your belly in an attempt to be closer to the twins, or in Aerion tugging at Aemond’s hair and fighting him to actually copy his father and lay on you instead since he understands more now that he’s 5 months old.

You can find happiness in Aemond’s faint proud smiles as he hears his son try and talk to him. In gentle kisses and sweet compliments he passes you, or something minimal like agreeing on something at the Small Council meetings which in turn overshadows the men around the table. You can even find happiness after the meetings in matters such as names for the babes that still have a ways to go before they’re born.

Does he raise a complaint though? No. He’s not needed at this precise moment so he lets you steal his time.

“If they’re boys, Aemon,” you say right away and make him blink with surprise. “Like his father. Just without the last letter so it’s not confusing.”

The corner of his lips tugs wider as he lets out an amused huff.

“And the second boy's name…well…”

“Maegor?” Aemond tries to end your sentence, but you glare at him and shake your head.

“No!” You chuckle. “No, I am not naming our son Maegor. Do you want the gods to spite us?” You ask the question in a whisper in the fear that the gods will hear you saying such a name.

Aemond snickers and leans forward to press his hand on either side of your lap as you sit on the edge of the table, and he sits in his chair. “You believe that to be true? It’s just talk.”

You scoff and shake your head again to get your point across. “Talk or not, I will not leave it to chance. Not when it comes to our children.”

Aemond hums and you slowly lower your gaze to bring up the name Helaena suggested, one you want. “What about Laenor?”

You feel his stare weighing down on you, but you can’t look him in the eye out of fear of rejection.

“My father was always good to you. We would go fishing together, and he would take you sailing with us…I do not know if you want,” you bring up different cases to try and convince him because you know how Alicent and those of the court viewed your father.

“All right,” Aemond doesn’t take time to think about it, he gives in and you slowly trail your eyes up to meet his gaze with relief and happiness.

“Really?” You query.

Aemond nods and you flash him a joyous smile.

“But,” he interjects and sits back with a lighthearted smile. “What if they’re girls or one of the other?”

You flash him a smirk and lean back on your hands. “Well, we have our first name…”

“Daenys,” you both say at the same time and you nod excitedly and beam at him.

He hums with a smile playing on his lips and you tilt your head to the side to share the other name. “And the second, Naerys. Or Daenerys. You can choose.”

“They’re the same thing,” he mutters and you scoff and lean towards him.

“No! No, they're different. Completely! But you can choose between the two.”

He rolls his eye and quips. “How generous of you.”

You shrug innocently. “I’ll even let you choose between all four if we get a boy and girl, hm? So pick!”

He hums and taps his fingers on the chair's armrest before he takes a deep breath and shares his choice. “Daenerys and Aemon.”

A pang of pain hits your heart and your smile falls, he watches you with a serious look that shows he’s being serious, so you sit up and look at him as if the answer actually hurt you. “What?” You mutter in disbelief. “But, my love.”

He raises an eyebrow and remarks. “You gave me the freedom to choose the name of our children. I chose.” He says and leaves his lips pouted as he waits for your argument.

But he is right…

“Well,” you grumble without hiding your disapproval. “Fine,” you deadpan and look down to fiddle with a gold bead that’s embroidered on your gown.

Aemond tilts his head to try and find your eyes but you keep turning your head further down so you miss the smirk that tugs on his lips as he sees you pout.

“It was jest,” he clarifies as he stifles his laugh, and leans forward to press his fists on the table.

You raise your head and snap your glare at him. “Ha. It was not funny.”

He snickers and you nudge his shoulder. “Daenys has been my top choice since we were kids. You know that.”

He grins and nods. “I remember. You bugged me about it hundreds of times.”

“Exactly,” you press with your eyebrows raised. “So?”

He unfurls his fists and slides his hand on your thigh to rub it with the gentlest touch. “Daenys and Aemon,” he now gives his honest choices.

You nod and can’t help but throw your arms around his neck since he’s already so close, and glance at his lips, but manage not to give into your temptation, instead you smirk and whisper. “Do you think Daenys and Aemon will get into as much trouble as we did?”

He gently slides his hand up your thigh before he swings his arm around your waist and quips. “You got in trouble, not me. I was there to try and get you out of trouble, or danger.”

The corner of your lips spread up and bliss glimmers in your eyes. “Okay, but you did not discourage me.”

He narrows his gaze and counters. “I did, many times. You did not listen.”

You giggle and loll your head to the side, making his eyes follow your lips moving before he flickers his gaze back up.

“Well then Daenys and Aemon will learn to be better at avoiding trouble,” you rebuttal, making him scoff and not hold back anymore. He leans in for the kiss and you let him mold his lips into yours while you wrap your arms around his neck.

As he deepens the kiss he trails his hand away from your waist and agonizingly slowly drifts his hand down your hips, and then down the length of your thigh to hike your skirt up and slither his hand under to now slide his warm palm up your thigh, leaving a blazing trail that makes you press yourself closer to him to the point your chests meet with all the breaths you take.

You want him to touch you where your body aches for him the most, but he instead grabs your hips with both hands and with a swift and fluid motion slides you off the edge of the table to make you straddle his hips.

“Aemond,” you chuckle between heavy breaths, and he responds with a cheeky smirk before closing the small gap between your lips as if it were impossible to live for a second longer without the taste of your lips.

Yet no matter how hot your passion blazes, that is suddenly snuffed out by a knock on the door. Which you should’ve seen coming, you are in the Small Council chambers, but that doesn’t matter to Aemond, he still gets frustrated.

“What?” He seethes.

You can’t help your cocky smirk before you lean in and bite his bottom lip before moving over to sit on his lap to wait and watch who dared cut into your private moment.

When the intruder walks in though you see that it’s Ser Jason.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” he offers his condolences right away with a bow of his head. “I just received news,” he shares and brings his head up to display an almost terrified look. “A riot has started in the city where the Great Sept is, and Queen Helaena and the Dowager Queen are caught within.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and while you digest the news, Aemond basically rips away from his seat to try and go out to save them himself. However, no matter how rageful he is, or his thirst for blood, neither him nor you are allowed to run to their aid.

The smallfolk are angry, your mother and Mysaria’s plan worked. The smallfolk got the message that they were trying to get across and now they want an answer, justice for not getting treated right by the King ruling over them, the King who is supposed to feed them. And they have every right to be upset, to demand an answer for how poorly they’ve all been treated, but to take it out on Helaena? That’s something you can’t accept, that’s something that doesn’t sit right with you.

If only you had known that they planned to go to the city today, and you could’ve come up with some quick excuse to keep them inside. Anything to keep them from entering the wrath of the Smallfolk after they got the food from your mother. But you did not know, and now you can’t do anything to help Helaena but watch from a tall tower as a sea of people rush through the streets. All you’re left to do is wait, and hope that the Kingsguard can do their job, while your mind conjures up violent scenarios in response to your distress and…guilt.

Nevertheless, in response to your helplessness, and the panic that makes you breathe heavily, Astraea surprises you by flying over the tall tower Aemond and you stand on, and flying down, casting a large shadow over the streets of the city as she directs herself to the Great Sept, without as much as you needing to tell her a word.

And since she is large and her purple scales stand out against the sun, you see her swoop down on a building near the Great Sept. Albeit since you can't see what she sees, you miss the fact that she was quick to find Helaena and Alicent. You miss the warning shouts from the people who had caught her flying over in a hurry, but thanks to the calamity no one paid attention to the warnings, no pair of angry eyes caught even a glimpse of the purple dragon until her shadow cast over the crowd trying to tear at Alicent and Helaena.

Even then it's too late because by the time she lands on the edge of a building, Helaena and Alicent have been pushed against, Astraea is quick to react in defense of Helaena; the person your heart is crying over at the moment, the person you hope and pray is okay, and the person you love with all your heart.

There’s no doubt she’s there defending her because even from the tower Aemond and you stand on in the Red Keep, Astraea’s rageful roar is heard. And from where Helaena and Alicent are, her roar rattles the foundations of the buildings, it shakes the pebbles on the ground, and sets fear in the people who were just brave enough to go after the Queen and her mother.

Now those people who ran at the Queen, run away from the dragon ducking her neck and head down to shield her from any incoming danger. When someone ballsy enough tries to take a step close to Helaena, Astraea begins to snarl before she opens her mouth and snaps at them, coming close to actually taking a bite, but not managing to scrape them.

She just wanted to scare them, she wouldn’t actually bite anyone unless provoked by someone. She just has her guard up and is being protective. And she doesn’t lose that fierce need, she continues to bear her teeth until she spots Alicent rushing Helaena to the wheelhouse. After that Astraea hovers above the wheelhouse and doesn't part from them until she sees them go past the Red Keep gates because that’s the only time that you actually find relief.

After that Astraea circles the castle until you’re inside tending to a distressed Helaena, while her mother gets tended to as well, albeit she actually ended up getting cut, Helaena is just shaken up and a bit dirty, that’s all, but you still help her as you swallow back your guilt.

After all, you can’t control the Smallfolk, you can’t control their emotions. You just wish you would have known Alicent wanted to take Helaena into the city. That’s all.

“Do you want to know something?” You ask Helaena.

She hums and you share your thoughts while you wipe away the dirt her face collected in that riot. “I admire you for having twins. You were young too, I can’t imagine it was easy. I don’t know how you did it.”

Helaena’s eyes flicker to you and she looks at you seriously before she interjects bluntly. “I just had them.”

You stop what you’re doing and drop your gaze to look at her with slight disbelief before you snort softly and move behind her to undo her messed-up braids.

“I…will have to go thank Astraea,” Helaena speaks up much to your surprise, since up until now it was you who was trying to make conversation. “She protected me and my mother.”

You smile proudly. “We can go after this, how about that? She should be nestled up by the cove.”

Helaena nods gently, and the door proceeds to open, causing Helaena to ball her hands, and grow stiff after having a very hard time relaxing. Which is why you get ready to kick the intruder out, but you then come to see Aemond striding in.

“What is it? Have the rest of the Kingsguard returned?” You can’t help but ask as you grab the brush from the small table.

“All but one,” he says as he looks down at his sister unable to find that peace once again.

“Did you find out what exactly happened?” You act clueless whilst you start brushing Helaena’s hair. “What started the riot?”

Aemond walks over and chooses to lean against the couch to be able to occasionally meet your gaze when you’re not focusing on what you’re doing.

“It was Rhaenyra,” he says, causing chills to crawl down your spine at the sound of your mother’s name coming out of his mouth out of slight fear he will reveal that he knows the letters you have been sending her— “she sent food in boats which in turn made the people get mad at us. As if we’re the ones holding the blockade.”

You don’t give any other reactions besides comprehension and feigned disbelief, as if this is the first time hearing about your mother’s malicious plans.

“Well,” you sigh and pretend to breathe out a stressed-out breath at the mention of your mother. “We are the crown. We’re supposed to be taking care of them. How would you react if you could not feed your son because the people who are meant to protect you aren’t doing anything to break that blockade or feed them?”

Aemond’s gaze hardens, but you don’t back down, you challenge him and press your point so he can understand where their anger is coming from.

“They’re desperate, angry, and what my mother sent only fueled them to act out in the only way they would be heard,” you argue in their defense, making Aemond drop his head and shake it in disapproval.

“We’re trying,” he snaps and hastily brings his eye up, but you’re focused on brushing Helaena’s long hair so you just feel his burning glare.

“They do not know that,” you rebuttal. “We know that here, but they do not. Look I am not telling you what to do Aemond, I am just trying to make you see why they reacted the way they did.”

He hums and you finally drift your eyes up and watch him lose his gaze on the ground to try and collect all his thoughts on the matter and on what you just told him.

“I’m all done Helaena,” you direct your attention back to her and back away to give her space. “Why don’t you change into something different, finish your tea and when you’re done, or when you want, we can go see Astraea, hm?”

Helaena nods while you walk around her to face her with a gentle smile. “You’re okay now, okay? No one is going to hurt you here.”

Her distant blue eyes meet yours and you see her fear still clinging onto her, so you attempt your best to try and rid her of that agonizing fear. But you’re also careful, you know how she is, you know she doesn’t really like being touched, nor does she tolerate any loud noises. You also know she’s still rattled and a bit paranoid that the chaos will find her in her chambers, so you’re slow as you crouch to not trigger her. You let her know in a whisper that you’re going to grab her hands before you cradle them.

“You’re okay,” you make sure to say in a gentle and caring voice so she can feel assured, so she knows that you do care about her wellbeing.

“I know,” she nods stiffly and turns your hands around to study your palms for a moment before her thumb hovers over the ice burn you carry and reminds you of what you left behind.

“I will only leave until you assure me you’re fine,” you tell her.

She draws in a deep breath while stealing a glance at her brother behind you who is paying close attention to the gentle way you’re caring for her sister. He would say perhaps you’re coddling her too much considering her age, but he also appreciates that you don’t shame her for not being the fighting type. He likes that you’re so doting and sweet with Helaena.

While Helaena herself catches that appreciation in his eye as you hold his attention captive, and wonders how you must feel that he can’t share even an ounce of care for your own siblings. She actually wonders a lot about you when you plague her dreams, she wants to tell you all that she sees about you, you and Aemond, you and…your future, but her words don’t come easy, so she’s left silent and just staring hoping that somehow someone can read what she’s thinking.

She wishes you could see that she is indeed fine, but that doesn’t come easy either with her look still captured with fear, thus she looks back at you and gives you what you asked for. “I’m fine.”

You hesitate just in case she ends up changing her mind, but when she doesn’t follow up with a protest, you draw out a deep breath of your own and stand to your given height to step away from her. “We’ll be in the Red Keep and I’ll be waiting, okay?” You let her know, making her offer you a quick nod that seems like she’s brushing you off more than anything, but you and Aemond still leave and let her be.

And it’s only once the doors of her quarters are closed that you speak on the matter at hand. “What will you do with the Kingsguard?” You ask since Alicent said they escalated what was already happening. Or they gave the people an excuse to get violent.

“Aegon's friends are the ones who triggered the smallfolk to attack when one of them cut off a man’s arm,” he grumbles in frustration. “Which I can’t say surprises me, they have been incompetent since the start, they’ll serve better as dragon fodder, but alas, men of the Night's Watch are here, so I thought of having them banished there.”

“Hm, I think that’s an excellent response to their actions,” you praise his thought. “The Night's Watch is always in need of men, especially now that winter is around the corner.”

He hums and his eye then falls on you. At first, you don’t notice, don’t feel his stare because you’re in your own mind, but as your gaze drifts to the side you catch his stare before he can look away.

Any other time you would have brushed him off, but in contrast to that hard and blazing glare moments ago, now his eye is softer, and his blue eye isn’t clouded by the darkness of his anger.

“What?” You query.

He blinks and looks ahead before he mutters. “You just would have been good at it. Being Queen.”

Out of all the times you have confessed that dream, that desire to someone, the response is always the same. They always just take it as a passing thought, as a forgotten dream you just let them know about. Aemond is different though, he’s the first one to validate that desire, that forgotten dream still very much alive in the depths of your soul.

Is it in response to try and be something special in your mother’s eyes and those who forbid you from having such a dream become a reality? Who knows, but it still lingers there and he grasps onto it, and starts to pull it out of the abyss.

You know you shouldn’t keep dreaming, you should let go of his hand to let that dream fall back into the depths of the abyss where it will be forgotten once again, but…how can you let a hand go when it’s pulling you towards a glorious light?

A part of you wants to be free from the abyss, but as you’re blinded with clarity you think about your mother and your brother, and you can’t fathom ever betraying them like that. Your path is set already, and you can’t let it crumble and destroy what you worked hard to pave. You can’t turn your back on your mother over a dream that’s out of reach, that you had once been okay with letting go of.

You have to let go and stop being so hopelessly foolish, even if the temptation is hard not to cave into.

Thus you take Aemond’s compliment with a graceful smile and add nothing else on the matter even if your heart is swooning.

Thankfully he doesn’t add to the matter so you’re saved from further temptation. Instead, you follow him to the courtyard where Aegon’s Kingsguard friends are pushed to their knees, scared and nervous without a doubt over what fate the Prince regent will bestow upon them.

“Kneel before the Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen!” A guard announces as he and you descend the stairs to the courtyard, side by side. “And his lady wife, the Princess Regent…” he trails on to say your name.

Rather than sticking by Aemond’s side and watching the sentence he will give the Kingsguard though, your eyes go wide with glee as you spot an old, old friend from your time as a ward to Lady Karstark.

“Ser Mattias,” you whisper in disbelief and pick up your skirt to rush over to him and forget about your husband and the trial he’s conducting.

“Princess,” Ser Mattias greets with disbelief as he realizes that it’s really you.

“What a joy it is to see you, and,” you pause and study his all-black attire which differs wildly from the last time you saw him sporting bright white and typical greys and blacks with the sigil of his lady's house. “…All in black.”

Ser Mattias scoffs and tilts his head down to take a look at his own attire as if taking note of what he sports now, and what it means.

“And you,” he redirects and looks back at you to bow his head, making his long, dark locks dip with him. “Princess Regent, and…” he trails off to glance over your shoulder. “Weighed down by shadows.”

You glance at your sworn protectors before you pass Ser Mattias a smile. “It’s good to see you old friend, but I have to ask why you’re all in black now.”

Ser Mattias shifts on his feet and sighs. “After Lord Bennard tried to usurp Lord Cregan, I took the mantle as a brother of the Night's Watch. Perhaps I did serve his lady wife, but I still served their house,” he shakes his head gently. “I could not stand behind the treason, the sully to their name.”

You sigh and look at him with pity. “But Ser it was not your fault, Ser Bennard’s choices were his own. Not yours.”

“It does not matter, Princess, I could not stand for it. Nor did I have a home to return to, thus I joined the Night’s Watch and I’m better because of it,” he explains, letting you fall silent as you come to understand his reasoning, while also starting to wonder about someone after he mentioned his name.

First, though you make sure Aemond is still distracted with the sentencing before you casually bring him up since it’s not out of the ordinary. “An army from the North marches South, and their Lord leads them.”

A faint smile spreads on Ser Mattias' chapped lips and he nods stiffly. “Aye, I have heard. We will cross paths if the Gods let us.”

You nod slowly in comprehension and peek over at Aemond to keep making sure he’s distracted before you bring him up since you know you can trust Ser Mattias. “If you could Ser, pass a message to Lord Stark, for me?”

The man doesn’t react as you thought he would, nor should you have expected him to in truth. He and many others knew Cregan and you were great friends. You’re just overthinking.

“Of course. You and Lord Stark are still friends?” He asks and you nod before you pass him the message before Aemond can interrupt.

“Tell him…I’m okay. I'll be okay, and if the Gods are generous perhaps we’ll join each other on the battlefield.”

Ser Mattias shows he understands with a nod before he confirms his comprehension out loud. “I will give him the message.”

You let out a deep breath and nod your head before you step back and peer over your shoulder, catching at that moment, Aemond’s eye find you before he makes his way over with his hands behind his back, his head high, his back straight, and his chest puffed out as if trying to scare away the old man sworn to chastity.

“My Prince,” Ser Mattias greets and bows his head.

You pull on a smile and wait for Aemond to fall by your side before hooking your arm around his. “My love, this is Ser Mattias, he was Lady Karstark’s sworn protector when I was her ward.”

“Aye,” the man agrees. “I watched the Princess grow up for three years of her life, and grow from disdaining the North to falling in love with it.”

You giggle and Aemond crosses an arm over his chest to grab your hand as if trying to prove something to the man before him.

“She will be able to tell you the dire need of men in the Night's Watch,” Ser Mattias makes sure to take advantage of Aemond’s presence to ask for capable bodies. “Winter is coming and the threats will worsen. So please, any prisoners you may have rotting in your dungeons, send them to us.”

You glance over at Aemond and watch him offer the man a stiff comprehensive nod before he finally breaks his silence. “I will keep it in mind, Ser. Now I’m sure you have a long journey ahead of you, and prisoners who already require your attention.”

You shoot Aemond an annoyed side eye while you slowly slip your arm away from his. Albeit he refuses to let you go, so he discreetly tugs your arm back to keep you interlocked.

“My Prince,” the man bids his farewell with a small bow. “My Princess, it was an honor seeing you again.”

“And you, Ser,” you redirect softly. “Safe travels on your way back to the Wall.”

“Thank you.” He nods and without another word turns to follow his brothers out the gates. Aemond then turns away without letting go of you so you can stick at his side as if you will wander away or get lost on your way back inside the Red Keep.

Does that stop you from peering back at the man already paces away?

No, you still peer over your shoulder not because you long to leave too, not because you will miss the man, but because you know he will see Cregan...

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“Lord Ormund Hightower makes slow progress.” Lord Lord Jasper shares what he knows. “There is great concern that his host is threatened on two fronts by armies allied with House Beesbury.”

Something that has caught your attention about this faction is that these great armies surely do complain a lot. You don’t remember men fighting for your mother complaining or asking for more assistance for a threat that has not hit them yet.

How annoying.

“However,” the lord continues over the ruckus that comes from the streets below and is actually loud enough that you hear it from the room. “In happier tidings, Prince Daeron’s dragon, Tessarion, has at last taken to wing—“

“Eyes on the horizon!” A distant shout starts to steal your attention.

“Your brother expects to join the fight soon—”

“Dragon!”

It can’t be Astraea, they would not make any commotion for her anymore. And Vhagar wouldn't alarm them either, so is it Sunfyre? Has he returned?

“…and when he does, the Hightower host will be unstoppable,” Lord Jasper tries to talk over the commotion, but that only turns to panic.

“Dragon! Inside! Now!”

Can it be your mother? Or daemon? Both?

Aemond turns his gaze to you and you both speechlessly come to the same conclusion that the panic is caused by an unknown dragon, there isn’t any other explanation for such a commotion, so you both rip away from your chairs and stride out to the balcony, where you see all the chaos first hand.

Like when they threatened Astraea when you first got to the city, now all the guards on the walls collect all their courage and point at a large dragon. One you can’t make out right away, but as it flies toward the city at great speed you instantly recognize the spectacular beast.

“Silverwing,” you announce her presence breathlessly as your mind wanders to who her rider might be. Is it Rhaena?

Last you heard of her she went to the Vale, but she could have gone back to Dragonstone, this might be her…

But why would she come to King's Landing alone?

There doesn’t seem to be any other dragons so it’s safe to assume Silverwing is alone, so why would Rhaena fly here?

Unless…it’s someone else? Who though? You need to know.

Nevertheless, once again Aemond seems to be interlinked with your current running thoughts because without sparing another moment he pushes himself away from the railing and twirls around to storm away.

He doesn’t ask for you to come but you don’t wait for an invitation, or care if he wants you to stay, you follow at his pace and can’t help but wonder who could be mounted on Silverwing. You want to think of anyone, someone you might know, but no one comes to mind, and those who do would not be stupid enough to bring their dragon to King’s Landing for a damn joyride. Because that’s what it seems like it is, a joyride.

Silverwing does not seem to be attacking, nor does she linger over one place. They don’t even land, they just fly, so whoever is on Silverwing must be pretty ballsy, and you need to know who it is, or perhaps protect them from Aemond and Vhagar’s wrath in some discreet way where it seems to Aemond that you’re attacking when you’re only scaring them away so they’re out of his reach.

But you can only do that if Aemond doesn’t forbid you from flying out after against them. You have already talked about this matter and come to a conclusion, but you still expect him to stop you, to tell you to stay put and wait for him to come back with a report.

Albeit he does not, he doesn’t even try to protest in some discreet way. When you finally reach a courtyard he doesn’t stop you from mounting a horse. He lets you ride out with him side by side, and between your curiosity and disbelief, you feel glad that he’s keeping to his word. It only makes your blood pump faster.

Yet nothing beats that rush when you hear your dragon’s threatening cry as she matches your enthusiasm and flies out to meet you without having to be told verbally, without having to go out to meet her like Aemond to Vhagar. As if in sync with each other's desires, Astraea flies past the city walls at the same time your horse sprints out of the city gates, and without having to come to a stop, and without having her land on some empty patch of land, you throw your arm out and stretch your fingers out.

Astraea’s shadow then casts over Aemond and you as she reaches you in a split second, but she doesn’t slow down to wait for you, she keeps at her. speed, seeming like she’s going to fly past you, but then a rope brushes over the tip of your fingers, so you grab onto it and wrap it around your wrist to be pulled off the horse as she continues flying forward; making you look like a sailor swinging across the deck of their ship, or out to danger.

Now, you usually don’t tend to mount Astraea using the rope, you tend to climb her, but in emergencies such as now, you use the rope, and strain all your upper body muscles to scale up the rope as she’s flying at a great speed over green lands.

Once you throw yourself over your leather saddle, Astraea peers back to make sure you’re secured on her back before she lets out an excited screech that matches the excitement you feel pumping to your heart, and then flaps her purple wings to pick up her speed and go faster than she already was without worrying over Vhagar or Aemond. You leave them behind because you know they’ll eventually catch up and pursue the stranger on Silverwing, the dragon that once belonged to Queen Alysanne, and who is mother to your own dragon.

Besides, leaving Aemond and Vhagar behind gives you time to know who rides Silverwing without having to be hostile. However, since Silverwing does have the lead, there's a pretty big gap between Astraea and her as she seems to be heading back to Dragonstone. Not like her having the advantage really matters, Astraea can be fast, especially when she’s excited or agitated, like now she’s as curious and rushed with as much thrilling excitement as you are.

So much so that she flaps her large wings and then dips down with her wings tucked to gain speed, managing after a few flaps to get close enough that you’ll be able to see who Silverwings rider is. You just need them to look down, but it doesn’t seem like they’re aware of you, or Astraea. Which indicates that they must be brand new to dragon riding, or stupidly careless.

Either or you need to know who they are exactly, but your voice won’t be carried out through the rushing wind, Astraea’s can though, so she speaks for you with a rather unthreatening chitter. She’s just loud and harsh enough that her noise will travel fast through the air and hit the ears of Silverwing, and her rider.

And as expected without having to call out a second time, Silverwing tilts her slim silver body to the side, letting you see the back of the rider before they look back and reveal who they are; some middle-aged man, with a plump face that matches his rather plump body, dark greying hair that flies over his shoulders, and a terrified look painted on his pale face.

He also seems to be dressed rather poorly, so does this mean he’s some bastard commoner? Did your mother really become so daring as to trust the Smallfolk to ride dragons for her? Because there’s no way Silverwing went out in search of this man, she hardly flew too far from Dragonstone, she isn’t as adventurous as Seasmoke, and with no rider, there wasn’t a reason to fly out to King's Landing or any city, so that can only mean that this was your mothers doing, but why didn’t she tell you?

Did she know you would be against it? Sure you have a soft spot for the Smallfolk, but to trust them with dragons? You can’t really trust strangers with polluted dragon blood. They can turn on you before you can know it. You can’t trust them, they’re not family.

But she seemed to trust them…so you have to…make sure Vhagar doesn’t touch them.

If only the man knew that you’re no threat, he looks like he’s about to shit himself with how scared he looks over your sudden appearance. That will not bode well for Silverwing. She’ll sense his fear and take you and Astraea as a threat, but there’s no way to make the man understand you won’t hurt them, you’ll just have to make Astraea slow down to put some distance between her and Silverwing.

“<Slow Astraea,>,” you tell your dragon in High Valyrian as you lean forward to caress her neck. “<We're on the same side.>”

Astraea chitters softly and tries to do as you say, making the man’s eyebrows pinch together and then ease as his fear turns to confusion. Yet Silverwing does not seem to go through the same emotions, because from one second to another she whips her tail down and smacks Astraea across the face.

“<Astraea!>” You call out in horror and watch her squirm her head out of pain before her brown eyes snap up and she lets out a pissed roar. “<Calm down!>” You try to ease her quick risen anger.

However, a deep guttural roar rips through the cloud bank behind you in response to Astraea’s rageful roar, and it seems that Vhagar gives fuel to Astraea’s anger because she then does exactly as you wanted her to do before, she slows down and hides from Silverwing in the cloud bank, causing the man to think you and your dragon stopped the chase because you’re out of sight.

Alas, that’s what Astraea wanted Silverwing and the rider to think. She wants them to lower their guard and waits for them to descend from greater heights to be just low enough that they’re close to the body of water you fly over.

You know she’s up to something, you can hear her groaning, and see her gaze pierced ahead and then fall, but rather than stopping her, you let her give in to her anger so you can scare away the rider and Silverwing because as you pay attention, you hear Vhagar. You see her in the distance and you know Aemond won’t hesitate to attack. Thus you let Astraea act out.

You actually let a smirk play on your lips, you relish in the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you think of what Astraea has planned. Which will give this new rider the wrong idea, but that’s what you need at the moment, you can’t blow your cover, and…a part of you doesn’t care that he gets the wrong idea about you. You…salivate over the thought of having him be scared of you.

It’s why with that mischievous longing in your heart, you welcome Astraea’s charge towards the water as you remain undetected. When you approach the water's surface you duck your head and draw in a deep breath to hold it in as your dragon dives in the cold water. And considering she’s more than fond of these antics when you’re riding her, you don’t show fear or panic, you actually tear your eyes open and find awe as you see all the wonders that live in the water.

They’re simple wonders like fish, simple deep and blue waters, and common undersea plants, but as if it’s the first time taking it all in you’re completely captivated by it all, but not forgetful of your current dire situation. You prepare for Astraea to resurface by closing your eyes and ducking your head again. Once your drenched body is smacked by the cold rushing breeze, you wipe the water off your eyes before you open them and then sit up, coming to see at that moment, as your eyes connect the shadow over you to its owner, that Astraea is now directly below Silverwing, and the silver dragon is none the wiser.

Silverwing did not hear Astraea dive in the water, nor does she catch her and you flying out and torpedoing toward her. Her rider is in the same affair, only Aemond and Vhagar see what you’re doing from a distance, and you know for a fact that neither will give you away. A proud and malicious smirk actually spreads on Aemond’s face, easing the frustration that has him all stiff. And that pride only heightens and mixes with awe as he catches how Astraea opens her mouth to get ready for the attack as she gets near the silver dragon.

Albeit just before she can chomp down on Silverwing, the silver dragon finally catches Astraea and is able to swerve the attack, making Astraea bite air.

“Damn,” you hiss under your breath and tug the handles away to steer Astraea away, but Silverwing is rightfully pissed. She flies head first toward Astraea before she tilts her body back to hook her claws on the Astraea.

However, before your dragon is gashed, she flips her body swiftly to be on her back and have you be upside down for a second before she flips to her other side and puts some distance between her and Silverwing.

“<Calm down now Astraea. That should be enough,” you tell your dragon as you pat her neck. “You did good girl. Leave her be now.>”

Astraea roars out at Silverwing, and the silver dragon responds with a louder and higher-pitched roar, but neither dragon goes for another attack. Astraea listens to you and lets Silverwing gain the advantage. The rider steals paranoid glances at you, but you don’t attempt to share any reassuring looks so he knows he’ll be fine, you feed his fear by passing him a malicious look that is the last thing he sees before he finally gains a good distance from you and your raging dragon.

After that, since you’re done with your charged pursuit you just follow him the rest of the way to Dragonstone since Aemond and Vhagar are still on Silverwing’s trail. You get so close to home in fact, that Astraea has to swerve to one side to avoid flying over land, in doing so letting you see the welcoming and relieving sight of your mother.

Your mother is there on the ground, and not alone either, she’s guarded by Syrax, and the great Bronze Fury, Vermithor, he’s there too, which is unbelievable really, but you can only give your attention to your mother who is struck with surprise as she sees you passing by. While you come to realize at the same time she does that you’re just out of reach, but still far from one another and not able to touch. The only thing you can do is pass her a prideful look for her achievement because regardless of your distrust and disapproval of this new plan, you’re still proud that she got to achieve such a feat in not only gaining a rider for Silverwing, but Vermithor too it seems! Proving how capable she is not only as a ruler but a warrior too.

You’re proud of that and you make sure she sees it with your smile not only on your lips but dancing in your eyes too.

Yet your pride and bliss are fleeting, taking your adrenaline with it when you fly over the shore and see Seasmoke with a rider. Which shouldn’t be surprising as it is, your father is gone and Seasmoke is free to bond with anyone. It was going to happen eventually, but…he was your father's dragon, he was a part of your father once and your heart always remembers your father every time you look at Seasmoke. Your heart aches every time you see the silver-grey dragon because you think of your beloved father.

Now when you look at Seasmoke you’ll see a new rider and the cruel reminder that your father won’t ever come back. He’s gone forever, and Seasmoke will now be someone else’s. He’ll be a part of someone new, someone…

Wait…

You blink and as the cloud of grief passes you come to recognize the man on Seasmoke; it’s Addam! Addam of Hull?!

But…but how?!

Who…

Oh…

Oh!

It’s not beyond the realm of possibilities, the realization that slams into you. There are other possibilities of course, but why else would your grandfather pester you and bother himself to introduce you to Addam’s brother Alyn?

You thought it was weird at that moment. Why would you care who that man is, and why would your grandfather put so much trust in a man when it came to sending him to King's Landing to check on you last year?

It’s because…Addam and Alyn, are his offspring. Potentially, but very likely. It explains why Addam is on Seasmoke!

Damn, now how can you assure yourself that it’s actually fact and not a wild assumption? Ask your grandfather? Yeah right, like he would ever confess to it. And it’s doubtful anyone else knows if it’s true.

Did your grandmother know?

Who knows.

Regardless, you want to know now, and you need to tell Aemond about Seasmoke too when you get home. It doesn’t seem like he noticed Addam and Seasmoke from where he was and because he turned away before he could get a closer look.

However, you don’t follow him home, Aemond leads you and Astraea to an elevated green mountain near the town Sharp Point rather than returning home right away, which…can’t be good. If he wanted time alone he would find it at home, not near this town.

Yet here he is and he’s pissed. You can see his face contorted with anger, his jaw clenched, and his gaze distant the moment you dismount your dragons.

“You saw it?” Is the first thing he says as you make your way to each other. “The dragons and their common born riders.”

You try to figure out his thought process, but there’s also so much in your mind, so your curiosity is second place to everything else.

“I saw it, and I saw Seasmoke too,” you share, making him grimace and turn his head away to simmer in his growing anger.

“But,” you add and step closer to him. “That’s not the most important fact. I know his rider.”

Aemond’s gaze immediately returns to you and his gaze narrows while his eye digs itself deep inside you to try and figure out what you mean by that.

“He has a brother that my grandfather introduced me to when we went to Driftmark,” you continue to heighten his jealousy and curiosity. “I thought it was weird that he would bother himself to introduce us, and then he revealed that he sent that brother to our engagement tourney, and now I think he did all this because…they might be…his bastards?” You say more like a question as if Aemond would know the truth.

“It explains why Addam can ride Seasmoke,” you explain what is clear, but then begin to drift back to confusion and cluelessness. “But I do not know, I can’t be sure. And it’s not like I can just ask my grandfather.”

Aemond swallows thickly and turns away to get lost in thought. You let your mind wander too, but as you do you also remember where you are, and what you think Aemond might do to this town in response to his anger for your mother’s achievements.

“Do you realize what this means? This dragonrider?” Aemond makes his silence short and turns to face you, making you slowly turn to face his gaze now not tense with jealousy, but softened with pity.

“If he is Lord Corlys’ bastard then he and the brother might be legitimized, and one of them may be turned heir of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides,” he shares what you did not even realize, you were so stuck on the fact that he might be your grandfather's bastard that you did not see the bigger picture. And now that you’re seeing it in its totality, that worry you had for this town is completely diminished.

“But,” you argue effortlessly as if weakened by the cruel but real assumption. “He said he would make Aerion his heir.”

Aemond sighs deeply and closes the gap between you to grab your arms and hold your gaze with your breaths brushing over each other's faces, and the warmth that radiates off him blanketing your still damped body.

“But now his bastards are fighting wars and bonding with dragons, they’re older, don’t you think he’ll favor him over our son?” He presses and only makes a sadness puncture your heart, and the need to know the truth that much more significant. After all, why wouldn’t you expect something else to be taken from you?

They took your role as heir, and now they might take your son's role as heir of Driftmark.

“Do you…” you trail off and drop your head to try and find an answer, to try and contradict that new fear Aemond planted in your mind. “Do you think he would?” You ask with a great sadness dulling your eyes while also making them gleam so brightly with the tears that cloud them.

“Why wouldn’t he? They already took your role as heir,” he says in a softer tone now as he reaches over to grab your face, forbidding you from feeling alone as your heart is once again troubled with sorrow, disbelief, and…growing anger.

Anger you can’t exactly feed without knowing if it’s true though. You need to know if Addam and Alyn are really his bastards before you can let this anger take root.

You need to know.

“I need to talk to someone,” you tell Aemond with determination. “I need to know if it’s true or not, and I know my grandfather would never say, so I need to go ask someone who will know.”

Aemond blinks and his eyebrows knit together. At first, he assumes you’ll ask one of the Hull boys, but you then tell him otherwise.

“I need to go ask the Red Priestess, Kinvara, she’ll know.”

Aemond parts his lips to rebuttal but you cup his hands and assure his worry. “I’ll be okay. I trust her. She’ll tell me the truth.”

A/N- something wicked this way comes ;(;

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan

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female-hysterics · 5 months ago

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Okay so I just read your fic and 👏👏👏👏

I do propose an image for you to think about based off that~ 👀

Aemond falling for a servant. Like one of those...milk maids? Idk the servants who do the actual breast feeding??

He would have milk whenever he wants frfr🥛🥛🥛🥛

Thank you, lovely! 💕

I think they are called wet nurses? 🤔 But I absolutely LOVE this idea!

Aemond using his sway as Prince to get them to visit his chambers late at night, maybe even bribing them to not use as much of their milk throughout the day (maybe there are more than one nurse so no baby goes hungry) so by the time she shows up she's all but shoving her breasts in his face and he's in heaven

If you want to be a little more on the dub-con side...

Aemond abusing his position to corner the nurse in some shadowy alcove, making her keep quiet with a hand over her mouth, and forcing her top down to get to her chest. Hiking up her skirt to get inside her cunt at the same time. Making her bounce on his cock while he sucks her dry while she fights back tears. Who would ever believe her?

#don't psychoanalysis me #i swear i'm normal #somewhat 😬#Aemond Targaryen #House of the Dragon #aemond one eye targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon smut #ewan mitchell headcanons #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #the void answers

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flowerandblood · 11 months ago

Text

The Gate of Salvation [1/3]

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, angst, anxiety, manipulation, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]

[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The Song of Songs (Oneshot) Death and Ressurection (Oneshot)

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

What happened after the conclave took everyone by surprise and caused complete chaos in the Catholic Church; she was one of the people who watched the live coverage from St Peter's Square.

She prayed in spirit that her uncle and her mother's brother, Cardinal Reene, would not become Pope.

Admittedly, it was thanks to him that she was living in Rome, and without his financial support she would not have been able to study, however, her uncle was a person who did nothing selflessly.

He recalculated to himself that if his niece wanted to study marketing at University then he would help her, reminding her at times that he would count on her help in the future, to create a good, sympathetic image of him.

She had the feeling that listening to him she was even losing her faith, which, despite her many internal disputes and doubts, was strong in her. She returned to the bosom of the church of her own free will when she was in high school after years of not attending Mass; she discovered that she felt attached to this tradition, as well as to God himself, whose presence she subconsciously felt all around her.

She knew that her uncle would certainly try to bribe other cardinals and she guessed what his pontificate would be like, so she begged God in her prayers not to allow such a man to become head of the church in his name, and heavens, as always, heard her prayers.

When she saw the white smoke on the screen she let out a loud breath, closing the textbook she had just been reading – she heard shouts and applause of joy coming from the television; the bells rang out, the solemn moment when the new pope comes out onto the balcony to greet his faithful was about to begin.

This went on for an astonishingly long time and she wondered if something had happened or if the votes had been miscounted, however, she heard the cheers of the crowd again as the doors opened. What stepped out was not a procession, but an ordinary priest in a black cassock; she recognised in him the secretary of the late Pope, who was certainly not a cardinal.

He seemed tense and frightened; he approached the microphone and said only two sentences.

"We have a Pope. The Holy Father, who has taken the name Pius XIII, asks you all to pray for him." He said in a trembling, uncertain voice, all pale, and then disappeared back behind the door – voices of disbelief and disappointment spread throughout the square, the gathered people, like her, were shocked.

However, all the internet portals published the name of the cardinal who had been elected; it turned out that the new pope was Cardinal Targaryen, a very little-known, withdrawn and shockingly young priest.

He was only two years older than her.

Journalists despaired that there were no official or unofficial photos of him, no statements from him, as if he had lived for years locked away in some monastery and never stepped into the light of day.

The world was confused and anxious – the young pope had not stepped out onto the balcony of St Peter's Basilica even once despite the crowds gathered in the square below chanting his name day and night.

She wondered if, in this way, he wanted to focus the world's attention even more on himself by standing in the absolute centre of it, and thought that if so, it was not a good beginning to his pontificate.

Two days later, her uncle paid her an unannounced visit at the flat he was renting to her, dressed so that no one would recognise him, just like the other cardinals still hounded by journalists and paparazzi.

"I need your help. The matter is very delicate." He said quickly, handing her his coat, which she hung on one of the hangers, looking at him over her shoulder in surprise.

"Me?" She asked with her eyes wide open, wondering what was going on there that required the help of someone from outside the Vatican.

"Pius XIII is a cripple. He lost his left eye as a child. He insists that if he is to show himself to a crowd, it should only be with his artificial eye, but not an ordinary one, one that resembles the real one, but a completely white one. He thinks this suits his attire and position better, but we think it will create additional confusion about him. Additionally, he wants to keep the Pope's public appearances to a complete minimum. He has fired all the Vatican marketing people with years of experience. This is some madness. Can I have a coffee?" He finally asked after his verbosity, sitting down in a chair at the living room table, placing his black wide-brimmed hat on the tabletop, sighing heavily.

She nodded, snapped out of her reverie and the shock of his words, pulling a mug and black coffee from her cupboard. Her uncle drank coffee made from three heaped teaspoons without milk, and although she didn't know how he could swallow something so disgusting and not have a heart attack in the process, she made it the way he liked it.

She swallowed loudly, pouring water into the kettle, putting it on the burner and turning the fire on under it, analysing everything he had told her.

"It sounds like he has a very low and a very high opinion of himself at the same time. How could I help here, uncle? I'm just a student." She said in dismay, shrugging her shoulders; her uncle nodded his head as if convinced that this would be her answer.

"You are young, you have a fresh outlook. He doesn't want to listen to us old people, he thinks we're out of step with the world and what it needs, whatever that means." He said with a sneer, looking out of the window, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a creak of wood.

"I'd like you to try to talk to him, to understand what he means, what his vision is. Guide him to the idea that young people too want peace and predictability, not perpetual rebellion. I told him I could introduce you, that you are very talented and he agreed." He said finally and scratched the back of his neck – she heard the kettle whistle and turned off the fire under it, feeling that she had simply run out of words.

"− what? − I − oh God, uncle, I don't know − what if I make things worse and you lose in his eyes because of me? −" She muttered, feeling adrenaline start to bubble throughout her body; she poured hot water over the coffee in her mug, grabbed it and set it in front of him, then started walking back and forth across the room, panicking in some kind of way.

"This would just be a consultation − two young people want to change the image of the church to, let's say, a more welcoming one − this could be your big chance." He said, lifting the mug to his lips, taking a sip from it and murmuring contentedly, apparently finding that his coffee was exactly the way he liked it.

He persuaded her for so long that she finally agreed, but she regretted it as soon as he walked out.

She was inexperienced in discussions with this world, with such people, and was afraid she would make a mistake, do something against protocol and embarrass herself.

Her uncle sent her a message on the day of the meeting saying that she must dress modestly, preferably in white or black, her dress must end at least past her knees, her toes must not stick out of her shoes, her shoulders must be covered. Sharp, defiant make-up was not acceptable.

She was to address the Pope as Holy Father or Your Holiness, keep the proper distance, not sit with her legs crossed, not put her elbows on the armrests, not lean or crouch in front of him, approach him only if he wanted her to kiss his ring.

The amount of information she received overwhelmed her; she took a quick look in her wardrobe and found that her simple black dress with white embroidered collar and cuffs was the perfect length – it had no cleavage, it looked elegant, innocent and girly at the same time.

She decided to wear flesh-coloured tights with it and sleek black shoes, which she had previously polished. She styled her long dark hair in a braid around her head, keeping it in place with pins, short, unruly strands on the sides of her face.

She used only mattifying powder and mascara as her make-up, deciding that this was enough, around her neck a necklace with a small gold cross that she had been given once by her grandfather.

At the appointed hour, a black car pulled up in front of her townhouse; she got into the back seat and greeted the driver, who, however, did not answer her, driving off without a word.

After several minutes they were already in the Vatican itself; she looked through the car window at the crowds of people spilling out of St Peter's Square, saw a group of men and women holding cardboard sheets in their hands with the handwritten words:

Our Pope does not love us.

She lowered her gaze, silently contemplating all that was happening, and shuddered as they stopped in front of the gate – a Swiss Guard officer dressed in colourful historical attire with red, yellow and navy blue stripes stopped their car.

Her driver showed him his ID and the man nodded – the gate opened and they drove inside into a small courtyard that she saw for the first time in her life.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the figure of her uncle waiting for her in his full, opulent cardinal's robe, a cross on his chest of pure gold, adorned with rubies and diamonds.

He greeted her with a broad smile and joy, with a gesture of his hand inviting her inside – they ascended the baroque staircase to the corridor, the view of the interior of the entire complex took her breath away.

She was surrounded on all sides by paintings and sculptures by the great Italian masters of the Renaissance, Baroque and Classicism; she felt a solemn mood, though she did not know why, as if she had in fact entered the truest home of God himself on earth.

The guards as well as other men passing her looked at her intently – she thought with horror and shame that women, with the exception of nuns, were a rare visitor to this sanctuary and aroused curiosity mixed with distrust.

Here, what Eve did in paradise according to the Bible, because of whom sin possessed man, was never forgotten.

They climbed the stairs to the upper floor and then stood in front of a large white door, high up to the ceiling, with two men in the same colourful garments standing in front of them. Her uncle sighed heavily, as if stressed himself, and looked at her comfortingly.

"I'll do the talking, you keep quiet for now." He said lightly, surprising her completely – she had no time to reply as he nodded and one of the guards opened the door for him.

Her uncle moved ahead, so she moved behind him, entering a spacious, bright room with six windows overlooking St Peter's Square – to their right stood bookcases filled to the brim with books, and to their left a huge wooden desk.

Only after a moment did she notice someone standing by one of the windows; he was turned to them with his back, looking out at the crowds knowing they couldn't see him, a white cassock on his body, his short hair looking elegant and carefully styled, pulled back, almost white, glistening in the sunlight.

"Holy Father. As promised, I bring before you my niece, who I hope will allow us to come to an agreement." He said in a light, cheerful tone, as if addressing a friend, but they were answered by an uncomfortable silence.

She swallowed loudly when he finally turned to face them, her heart stopped for a moment when she saw how sharply shaped his face was – his cheeks and jaw were clearly outlined as if someone had carved them with a chisel, his mouth full, a pale scar running across the left side of his forehead to his cheek, his artificial eye completely white.

She felt that she was looking at him with her lips slightly parted and some sort of concern, so she lowered her gaze, reminding herself that she shouldn't do that.

"Hm." She heard him hum under his breath, as if he was thinking hard about something.

"Leave us alone, Cardinal." He said finally, turning his face towards the window again – she and her uncle looked at each other horrified, for this was not their plan.

She was only going to be an accessory, he was going to be the one doing all the talking.

"Your Holiness, I…"

"Get out."

Her uncle pressed his lips together and grunted, bowed his head and left, not even bestowing a glance on her despite the despair written on her face, leaving her to her fate.

She swallowed loudly as the door closed behind him and intertwined her hands in front of her, not knowing what to do, where to look, a cold sweat on her back.

"Do not be afraid, child. I know your uncle's nature. If I didn't let him bring you here he wouldn't let me alone." He began reluctantly, as if the very fact that he had to talk to her made him very tired; he moved with his hands entwined behind him ahead, walking along the windows, his profile illuminated by the sun.

She lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of shame surge through her, understanding that he knew perfectly well what her uncle wanted.

That it wasn't just about his image, but that he, as a cardinal, wanted his favour and the high position, money and comfort he could give him.

"What do you think of my decision not to show myself in public?" He asked finally; she raised her eyes at him, surprised, horrified that she had to answer. She swallowed loudly and licked her lips, dry of stress, thinking intensely about what she should say.

"Go on. You're supposed to know it, after all, it's an image issue." He growled and looked at her with an anger that sent a shiver through her; she stared at him in disbelief and fear trying to decide what kind of man he was.

She wasn't sure this was how a pope should behave.

"Driving here I saw people holding cardboard sheets saying: Our Pope does not love us. I felt sadness at the thought that many people feel rejected by your decision, Holy Father." She said at last, feeling that involuntarily her voice trembled and broke; she saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils moved nervously in accelerated breathing.

"Is love a perpetual vying for attention, standing in the centre? Is love only the deeds that can be shown, that anyone can see and name?" He asked frustrated, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, her lower lip quivered. She shook her head.

"People are afraid of what they do not know. You don't let them meet you, Holy Father." She whispered, and he snorted, turning back, going the other way, as if thinking over her words.

"So you think I should speak? Go out on the balcony and give them what they want?" He asked dryly. She let the air quietly out of her lungs, feeling her body tense all over – she had the feeling that she had adopted a defensive posture, as if ready for him to hit her.

"No. But I think it is necessary to find a way in which they can see you, Holy Father. To feel that you are in their lives physically as well. They need a guide, not another invisible God." She said finally and fell silent, lowering her gaze, feeling that her last sentence might have been too far-fetched.

She noticed with horror that he stopped hearing what she had said.

"You think I'm doing this out of vanity?" He asked in disbelief. She lifted her gaze to him, for some reason feeling that she was on the verge of crying.

"I don't know, Holy Father. I do not know you, nor do any of your faithful. We are sheeps who do not know where to go and where is their shepherd. Do you think we are too sinful? That we don't deserve to see you?" She asked finally in a trembling voice, his healthy eye fixed on her.

Our Pope does not love us.

She shuddered, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart as he moved towards her with a slow, lazy step, not taking his eyes off her, towering over her. She didn't know what she saw in his gaze, proud and cool; she felt heat in her lower abdomen as the pleasant scent of his masculine perfume filled her nostrils.

She thought he had approached her far too closely.

She froze and swallowed loudly as he lifted his hand; she thought for a moment in horror and disbelief that he would touch her breasts, however, he grasped her golden cross in his hand and turned it between his fingers, looking at it thoughtfully.

"I am not a hypocrite. There is no greater sinner in this world than me. I am vain. I am proud. I am cold. I am eternally, eternally thirsty." He murmured softly and looked into her eyes, her lips slightly parted in disbelief.

She felt panic begin to overtake her body as her insides throbbed wonderfully hard at his ambiguous, unsettling words.

Something about him she found disturbing, even though she was surrounded by whiteness and daylight it seemed to her that the room had gone dark.

She was only able to breathe and look at him, nothing more.

"Do you believe in God?" He asked, still playing with her necklace, however, he did so in such a way that once in a while his fingers rubbed against the material of her dress lying between her breasts, each time a wonderful shiver ran through her spine.

There was something evil, menacing, lewd in the way he asked the question, in the way he acted and the way he looked at her and she knew it, she was horrified by how strongly her body reacted to it.

"Yes." She whispered, as if she was admitting something she was ashamed of, something that was her secret.

He hummed again under his breath, as if accepting her words – his hand let go of her necklace and returned to the other, placed behind his back.

"I'm hiring you. You will be my image specialist. I expect you here tomorrow at 8am. That's all. You may go." He said indifferently, turning away as if nothing had happened; she sighed quietly, terrified, and nodded with a rapidly pounding heart.

"Holy Father." She mumbled, then turned and walked out.

Her uncle ran after her asking her what they were talking about and what had happened – he made the sign of the cross with some kind of relief on his face when she told him in horror that he had hired her.

"What did you say to him about me? I'm only in my second year of university, I don't have the right experience yet." She muttered in a trembling voice; her uncle sighed, correcting his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger.

"He doesn't care about your experience." He said amused, and she looked at him in disbelief.

It suddenly dawned on her what her uncle had been planning all along, and what she had gotten herself into because of her foolishness and naivety.

There is no greater sinner in this world than me.

I am eternally, eternally thirsty.

She felt a squeeze in her throat, tears filling her eyes again as she moved forward, covering her mouth with her hand, distraught, humiliated.

Her uncle didn't want her to be his worker.

Her uncle wanted her to be his lover.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@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 @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla

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undertheorangetree · 1 year ago

Text

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Four- Cooperation

Summary- Cregan Stark has a proposition and Aemond struggles with the lord’s arrival.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Grief. Talks of treason. Angst cuz I literally can’t stop. Semi public sex. Also private sex. There's a lot of sex. Mild breeding kink. Praise kink. Jizz?? Dry humping. Discussion of dead babies and children. And Alys cuz apparently she needs her own warning now. Cockwarming.

Author’s Note- sorry this took longer than usual it’s end of semester and I am a shell of my former self lmao. Anyway this is once again debatably too long (10.2k) and the full chapter is linked below as usual :)

series masterlist

It takes a few more days than she had hoped before she is able to speak with Cregan Stark. It seems as though the council had been saving the true work for after the coronation and now they refuse to allow a day to pass without attempting to fix one issue or another. She learns very quickly that even with a council to do the heavy lifting, Aegon had done next to nothing in his six months on the throne, the realm still in shambles from the civil war that has destroyed it.

The Riverlands burnt and all but decimated due to Aemond and Vhagar. The Ironborn raiding every village, port, and town they can reach despite more than one letter arriving in Pyke demanding an end to it. All the great houses still at odds over their differing allegiances. Cregan Stark still thirsty for blood in order to avenge her mother and fulfill his promise to his men. King’s Landing only repaired with half measures after the revolt in the city and less than a quarter of the repairs underway. The list seemed never ending and by the end of each day, she finds a headache sitting heavy behind her eyes, so deep she can’t even attempt to massage the pain away.

To his credit, Aemond takes it upon himself to begin rebuilding the Riverlands himself, taking the initiative to lead the restoration. She has Corlys send word to Alyn Velaryon and command him to sail to Pyke with some of Velaryon fleet with the hopes that conversation and some bribing will be enough to stop Dalton Greyjoy from his raids. Lord Tyland informs them of just how much of the crown’s coffers he had spirited away and begins rationing what can be spared to begin repairing the city. Lord Larys assures them that the hunt for Aegon’s murderer is still well underway, though he has little to show for it.

It is Cregan Stark that is left to her. Handsome, bloodthirsty Cregan Stark. Where he had cast a glare upon almost everyone when he had arrived for the coronation, he had smiled at her, had been friendly and chivalrous. Though Aemond had vehemently disagreed, the council had all but unanimously decided that she was to charm him and turn him toward peace or, barring that, some acceptance of who was now ruling. She does not mind the task, already having planned to speak to the man and not prepared to be usurped less than sennight on the throne, so she agrees and leaves the council chamber with Aemond staring daggers into her back.

She is even more glad for the task as she sits on a bench in the gardens, eyes closed and face tilted up toward the sun as she waits for Lord Stark’s arrival. It feels as though it has been an age since she had the chance to simply be and in this moment, the sun warm and the air sweet with the smell of flowers, she feels completely and totally at peace. It is a strange feeling to have when worry and panic have been all she seemed capable of feeling as of late, but she will take it as it comes. She would rather feel this than the latter and she plans to enjoy it for as long as she is able.

A throat clears and she opens her eyes to see Cregan Stark standing before her, a servant at his side. The girl bows her head to them both before scurrying off as quick as she came and she stands from the bench with a smile.

“Lord Stark. I apologize for the delay in finally being able to speak to one another. My council seems content to work me like an ox now that everything has become more official but I insisted they release me so that I may fulfill my promise to you.”

He smiles as he offers her his arm. “I am honoured you were able to find the time at all, your grace. I know the early days in a new role can be exhausting.”

She mimics his smile gratefully as she takes his arm, allowing him to begin leading her through the gardens. They have not received the attention they deserved as of late- the shrubbery and bushes beginning to grow a bit wild, the flowers untrimmed- but she finds she likes it this way. Being so far into spring, everything is in bloom and beautiful even if they have not been well tended to, the green brilliant and dotted with red, yellow, purple, and white. She allows the silence to fall between them for a moment as she admires it all, feeling as though it has been too long since she has been allowed to enjoy something so simplistically pretty. Whenever she is given a gown or a piece of jewelry, she cannot help but feel as though it is a piece in this great game she never asked to play. The flowers, though, nature, they do not suffer the same fate.

Eventually, she knows she cannot allow for the silence to reign much longer and turns her head to look at the young lord. “My brother told me much about you in his letters. I feel as though you and I are already acquainted.”

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you #Aemond targaryen x fem!reader #Aemond x fem!reader #Aemond targaryen x niece!reader #aemond x niece!reader #Aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #Aemond targaryen fanfiction #Aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

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just-some-random-blogger · 29 days ago

Text

Pinball [Aemond's Version]

🄼🄰🅂🅃🄴🅁🄻🄸🅂🅃

Just you, your kid, and a pinball machine against the world.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | >600 | cw: fem!reader, single mom!reader, modern/70s AU, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: idk dont shoot the messenger, i rarely feel inspired to do fluff so thank Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game and mike faist for this lololol

Even the dinging of the elevator was too loud of him today. Aemond groans in his corner, screwing his eyes shut just as the doors close.

"Here."

He opens his eyes.

You look at him with your soft eyes, curved lips, and overflowing laundry basket by the hip, "you look like you need it."

Aemond's lilac gaze falls on your upturned palm where a single unopened tablet of medicine laid. His light brows furrow, recognizing the packet to be a painkiller, "a kind way to tell someone they look like shit." He takes it nonetheless.

You chuckle and shake your head, "most of us wished we looked half as pretty as you on a day you look like shit, honey."

The elevator dings again. A man walks in, coming between the two of you.

It takes a him a few floors to realize you were flirting with him.

He straightens up and shifts slightly to face you. He steals a glance your way, finding you were smiling. Yeah, his head was pounding, but here he was feeling a smile creep up on him, "you're prettier."

You turn to him, as does the man between the two of you. He gruffs, "what?"

Aemond turns to him, mouth opening, brows raising, "w- I wasn't talking to you."

The man makes a face and thankfully gets off at the tenth floor.

Both you and Aemond watch him exit, and you break into a fit of giggles once the door closes. By the time Aemond joins in your chuckles, you mutter softly, "I think he was hurt."

He laughs harder, which isn't very good for his head ache.

Before he can think of anything to say, you both reach the ground floor. You give him a smile just before walking out. He ruffles his silver hair, following after you as you make a beeline for the laundromat just beside your building.

He finally speaks, "wai-" "MAMA!"

Aemond he cringes at the shriek.

A small child comes running towards you, nearly knocking your basket to the pavement, "I GOT A COIN FOR THE PINBALL-"

"Baby," you crouch down, grabbing the boy by the arm, "we talked about this. The coins are for our laundry. Where is Aunt Sisi?"

"BUT MAMA-"

"Inside voice, bud."

The boy laughs, "BUT WE'RE IN THE STREET!"

"Yeah," you huff, moving to open the door to the laundry place, "but we're going inside now, right?"

"RIGHT! Right!" he grins.

You momentarily struggle to open the door, that is, until it magically opens. You look over and find the man from the elevator opened it for you.

You smile at him, taking your son but the hand, "what do we say to the nice man that helped open the door for us?"

"Thank you, sir," the boy whispers with a smile that's missing a tooth.

"Thank you, sir," you repeat, just before heading in.

"Wait," Aemond says, fishing for something in his pocket. For once, he is glad for his loose change that heavies his pants, "here," he gives a bunch to the boy, "for your pinball machine."

The boy gratefully accepts the coins, gasping as if it was treasure, "THAN- thank you!"

"Oh, sir," you shake your head, "you don't ha-"

"It's fine," Aemond shrugs, "it's just loose change. Consider it a thank you for the pain killer."

You slowly nod at him.

"And a bribe," he tilts his head.

"A bribe?" you tilt you head the opposite way.

"Maybe... we can play pinball sometime."

"PINBALL!"

Aemond groans at the boy's shout.

You snort and shake your head at the child, "no, baby, laundry first."

"Mmm," he hums, "laundry first."

You look back at Aemond and nod slowly, "maybe."

The discomfort on his face fades, "maybe."

"We'll be done here in an hour," you turn to the boy, "won't we bud?"

The boy thinks, "I don't know, mama."

You snort and walk inside, "see you around."

Aemond sighs, pushing the door wider for you, "gods, I hope so."

#aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern aemond #aemond x you #modern!aemond #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond x you #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic

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hotdaemondtargaryen · 4 months ago

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EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED BY VARIETY MAGAZINE.

AFTER THE BATTLE OF ROOK'S REST, WHERE IS AEMOND AND AEGON'S SIBLING RELATIONSHIP?

"It’s never been great between those two."

"Aemond has always seen Aegon as someone inferior who lacks the dedication and persistence to be king, whereas Aemond has always seen himself as — although he is the spare — that he should have been treated as the first son."

"Aegon himself even says, in Episode 9 of Season 1, he has no wish to rule."

"You get the idea that he has no political ambition whatsoever."

"You can see how that might look to members of the small council, because that’s someone you might be able to control, and have some sway on their direction."

"You couple that with Aemond, who you could argue has a political agenda and does have his own ambition, and you can see how that might not be as lucrative to the small council because that might be a wildcard — someone you might not be able to control as much."

"I love that scene when they vote Aemond into power, and he goes from one end of the table to the other because there is this massive switch."

"Aemond has been serving the war from this side of the table."

"He goes to the other side, and he sees all of these other characters in a new perspective."

"How can they serve Aemond now? It’s somewhat similar to the relationship with Aegon."

"How can he serve me now that he’s in his bed, and he’s terribly crippled from what Aemond did to him in the skies above Rook’s Rest?"

"It raises the question of how much of a hindrance he might serve to me in the state that he’s in, and now with Aemond’s newfound power, will he get in the way?"

"Is he still on my side?"

"I love all the shakeups in Episode 6."

WHAT POLITICAL AGENDA AND AMBITION DOES AEMOND HAVE NOW THAT HE'S ON THE IRON THRONE?

"He doesn’t even want to sit on the throne."

"Aemond recognizes that he who sits the Iron Throne ultimately becomes the most wanted man in the realm."

"Aemond has a pretty large target on his back already."

"A part of Aemond knows that anyone who sits on the Iron Throne accidentally cuts themselves."

"Heavy lies the head that wears the crown."

"Aemond might be happiest operating as prince regent."

"Or maybe he does want the throne! Maybe he does want absolute power."

"That’s what I love about Aemond, that ambiguity."

"You don’t know what master he serves, what he’s ultimately striving for."

"Whatever it is, it’s not going to be pretty."

AEMOND AND AEGON FINALLY TALK IN THIS EPISODE AFTER THE ROOK'S REST. AEMOND ASKS HIS BROTHER HOW MUCH HE REMEMBERS FROM THE BATTLE AND AEGON SAYS "NOTHING." BUT IT SEEMS LIKE AEMOND IS COERCING HIM INTO SILENCE, AND HE GIVES HIM THE LITTLE BALL FROM THE SMALL COUNCIL SEEMINGLY AS A BRIBE OR A THREAT. HOW SHOULD WE INTERPRET THAT SCENE?

"You’ll have to wait and see. I love that scene, because it’s almost like Stephen King’s “Misery.”

"It’s like this spider leering over his prey in the web."

"You’re right there in the palm of my hand."

"That’s certainly a new dynamic for Aemond, as well as his brother, who’s now physically inferior than him."

"I can’t wait to see where it goes."

"If I give all the answers, people will stop asking the questions."

"That’s a really cool way of looking at it."

"It’s the king’s marker."

"Maybe Aemond is giving it back to his brother, maybe he’s trying to reassure him that everything’s gonna be okay — “You’ll be king after you recover” — maybe lure him into that false sense of security."

WILL AEMOND GIVE UP THE THRONE ONCE AEGON RECOVERS?

"Aemond has a multitude of motivations."

"One of them is that he wants to be the war hero, and to be seen as this nigh-unkillable force, very similar to the Rogue Prince, the younger Daemon Targaryen."

"Especially because Aemond wields the largest singular power in Vhagar, with that power comes a great responsibility."

"He has to be seen as someone who can capably control that power."

"It ultimately means that in his mind has to be the person who wins the war for the Greens."

"He’s prepared to do the necessary evil."

"That’s the thing with Aemond, he doesn’t necessarily consider other people’s perspectives in the situation."

"He’s got his own singular vision."

"He sees the world through a very black and white filter."

"You’re either with him or you’re against him, and if you get in his way, he will cut you down."

AEMOND AND DAEMON HAVE SO MANY PARALLELS, BEYOND THEIR NAMES SOUNDING ALMOST IDENTICAL. THEY'RE BOTH SECOND SONS WITH GRANDER POLITICAL AMBITIONS WHO HATE EACH OTHER. WHERE DO YOU SEE THEIR RELATIONSHIP GOING WHEN THEY INEVITABLY MEET BACK UP?

"I think they’d be really good friends in reality."

"Aemond wants to be his uncle, but he also wants to be better than him."

"To achieve that, he has to do more than what he did, which is a tremendous feat in itself."

"So much of Aemond’s costume lends to the idea that he very much idolizes Daemon."

"He’s Daemon’s biggest stan."

"From the Targaryen blacks to the long hair, it’s so reminiscent of a young Rogue Prince."

"It’s a homage to his idol."

"I don’t want to spoil anything, but if those guys end up meeting in a room somewhere, every household object would become a dangerous weapon."

HAVE YOU AND MATT SMITH SPOKEN ABOUT HOW SIMILAR YOUR CHARACTERS ARE?

"One of the first decisions I made on my first shoot day was this idea that I would avoid Matt Smith’s eye contact, and only ever see Daemon."

"I was a big fan of “Doctor Who” growing up, and Matt Smith was such an electricity and a useful vibrancy that was a lot more accessible for a young kid."

"I dreamt of going on adventures with him, very similar to how Aemond would probably dream about going on adventures with his idol."

"So I thought there was something interesting in keeping Matt Smith on the podium, keeping Daemon Targaryen on that platform, so long as he was OK with it and Ryan Condal, our showrunner, was OK with it."

"That was definitely the direction that I wanted to go."

"I wanted to save that eye contact for a very particular moment in Season 1, where these characters finally come face to face at the banquet table and save the eye contact for that moment."

"It was just pure electricity in the room, to only ever see Daemon and to not see Matt."

"If you can keep those same relationships off of set that your characters have on set, it can pay off in tremendous dividends."

WHAT WOULD AEMOND BE LIKE IF HE HADN'T LOST HIS EYE WHEN HE WAS A CHILD?

"From losing his eye, he’s in a very different place physically and psychologically between Episodes 7 and 8 of Season 1."

"He’s developed himself into a weapon."

"I think about a line from M. Night Shyamalan’s “Split” in that “the broken are the more evolved.”

"Because he had his eye taken out, and was harmed and neglected for years as a child, he thought, — “I’m never going to get hurt like that ever again."

"I’m going to train with Criston Cole relentlessly and temper myself into a lethal weapon.”

"If he didn’t lose his eye, maybe he’d be a maester."

"I think he’d be a maester in the Grand Sept in Oldtown."

"But he would still have Vhagar."

"You could argue that if he didn’t claim Vhagar, he wouldn’t have lost his eye, maybe."

"That’s one of the really cool things about the show, tracing back to when the actual Dance of the Dragons started."

"You could say it was when Aemond killed Lucerys in the skies above Storm’s End, or when Lucerys took Aemond’s eye — or when Lucerys and Aegon brought the Pink Dread pig out, and bullied him relentlessly."

"It’s a very gray area, and that’s what I find really compelling."

WHEN I SPOKE WITH DIRECTOR GEETA PATEL, SHE SAID THAT AEMOND HAS SOME "MOMMY ISSUES" AND THAT'S WHY HE HAS A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH VHAGAR, THE OLDEST FEMALE DRAGON, AND THE MADAM AT THE BROTHEL. DO YOU AGREE WITH THAT?

"I don’t know if he has mother issues."

"He just wanted to be loved by his mom a little bit more; he never really had that."

"He’s the spare son, and felt like he should have been treated as the first."

"He felt like he had to find surrogates in other areas, like this dragon."

"He found it in the madam, but are they enough? Kids need that unconditional love to develop a balanced view of themselves."

"If a child isn’t embraced by the village, they’ll burn it down to feel its warmth."

"Aemond’s going to seek validation through other means, and through war."

"Ultimately, one of the other driving factors Aemond is he wants his mom, that thing he’s always craved."

"He wants her affection."

"I don’t think there was anything more Aemond wanted at the end of Episode 10 of Season 1 than to just be held by his mom, and he wanted to say: — “I’m sorry. I messed up. I made a mistake. I let my emotions get the better of me.”

"He possesses this code that stops him from doing that."

"He must be seen as this nigh-unkillable, Terminator-like figure who doesn’t feel anything because love is weakness, and “weak” isn’t in Aemond’s vocabulary.

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eydi-andrius · 2 years ago

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Agape

Agape is the kind of love that is felt by a person willing to do anything for another

cw/tw: dark!reader, lowborn (undisclosed) noble reader, delusions, heartbreak, character death, graphic description of death, deception, manipulation, implied sexual content, story is soooooo long and tags are not exhausted. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!!

pairings: aemond targaryen x reader

a/n: i was thinking about writing for a dark reader for a while now but i have trashed this story for like so many times. but i felt so bad throwing it away since it was technically done. SO I hope you all like this one hehe

As always, thank you for your support. I appreciate any comments and reblogs. It motivates me and makes my day hehe

summary: the heartbreak of someone lead to the death of another

~~~~~~~~

“Gods! Would you stop fiddling?” Aegon groaned in frustration as he massaged his temple. The way his brows knit together confirmed that he must have drunk too much again. His face was much paler than it usually was and his silver hair was messy and all over his face.

Concerned, you gave the water you had with you and your nose scrunched in disgust when you caught a whip of his smell. He smells like alcohol and sweat. It is now noon, but he seems like he has woken up.

“Don’t give me that look. I would never come to this god forsaken place if you did not invite me.”

You swallowed your contempt and did your best not to roll your eyes in front of the eldest prince. He calls the library the god forsaken place because Aemond stays here to read. Although today, he was practicing the sword with Ser Criston Cole. You truly do not understand how he treats his younger brother like a twat when all his life, Aemond had to do his all to cover up for Aegon’s shortcomings.

“I never thought you would care.”

And you are only here because you were afraid of the Queen finding out that you were drunk again and left Helaena alone during dinner.You kept your mouth shut and made sure not to follow with the words you have for him. You indeed asked him to come here and insulting someone you wished to help will only give you a hard time.

Instead, you cleared your throat and you heard him tutting in annoyance as his lilac eyes stared at you.

This bastard truly acts as if you owe him something. You still do not understand how Aemond became so perfect in what he does and his oldest brother is this useless.

You breathed deeply and smiled, the sweetest as you could, before you opened your mouth to speak.

“Tell me who was chosen to be Aemond’s bride.” You held his eyes with determination. It took a while as you two stared back at each other until he laughed with mirth. His voice boomed at the corners of the room and he was gasping for air as he did his best to compose himself.

“Ha!.....You called me….in here….in secret…..to ask me about something like this?” He was holding his stomach as he continued laughing. Tears were even coming out of his eyes in amusement.

“I……did.” You bit your lip, unsure. Maybe you should have relied on bribing the servants. You cannot help but feel stupid. The danger of Aemond knowing you were asking about his marriage was more of a threat to you than being with Aegon.

“Silly girl.” He laughed a bit more before he collapsed on the chair he was sitting at. He was laying there comfortably, staring at the ceiling.

“You put yourself in danger by meeting with me in secret instead of asking my brother about his betrothal. Do you know what the people would call you if they found out you were alone with an adulterous prince? A whore.” He said as a matter of truth, still not looking at you.

You know the danger you put yourself into. It was not as if you did not try to ask Aemond. You did. Many times. Many tries. Somehow, somewhat, he evaded your questions. So you bribed his servants but none of them knew who it was. But they promised they would tell you as soon as they heard news of her name. You trusted them, not because of the payment you have given them, but because you grew up in the castle with these people. You can trust them, right?

Until you caught word of the purpose of his last flight with Vhagar. Words claimed that he went to meet his chosen betrothed that day. No news was delivered to you from the servants. When you tried to confront them, they would give you excuses and reasons. No one can even look you in the eyes. You felt betrayed and alone. All of them had turned their backs on you.

“I know the danger I put myself into. But no matter how many times I ask, no one can tell me the truth. All I wanted to know was who she was.” You gasped in surprise when your voice cracked, laced with pain. You swallowed and did your best not to look at Aegon whose head was now risen and eyes directed at you.

Silence was loud between the two of you. He was just staring. Out of habit, you fiddled with your fingers. An act you do when you are nervous. An act hated by your family. It was more than annoying, it often left your fingers wounded. A noble lady destroying her soft hands was something not wanted. But was tolerated by Aemond. No, most of the time, he would hold your hand to stop you from picking the skin out of your fingers. And you would feel the heat crawling on your face. The blood rushing to your cheeks. His calloused hands were warm and comforting.

You were woken up by your reverie when Aegon’s chair scraped the floor and he stood up. You sat still and was waiting for him to leave when he stopped beside you. You felt his large hand pat your hair. As if comforting you. You looked up and met his eyes.

In anger, you slapped his hand away from your hair and he only gave a deep sigh. He continued walking past you and was half-way opening the huge mahogany doors, when he stopped midway. Licking his lips, he spoke.

He looked at you with pity. You did not like that. Being given a look of pity from the most pitiful person in this castle is much more insulting than being a low rank noble. It disgust you because you know you were far better than Aegon. How could he?

“It was a Baratheon girl.” Then slammed the door shut. His footfalls echoes outside and slowly fades away. The sound of the door closing was ringing in your ears while his words spiraled inside your head.

A Baratheon girl……..How could you even be on par with her?

Warm tears run down your cheeks and you close your eyes to calm yourself. You had seen this coming but you still dreamt of the day he would ask for your hand. Foolish imaginations of a life with Aemond and happily being together, full with his child. You thought that your love for him would be enough for him to forget his obligation as a prince and he will choose to marry you.

You were a fool for thinking he would choose you and turn his back on his duties as a prince.

You should have known better.

After many times he had rejected you.

Especially after that night.

The rain poured heavily on your face, almost painful, and it soaked your light green dress.Yet, you still chose to stand on the place where you asked; begged Aemond to meet you. One last time. You told yourself.

You sent him a letter which contains an apology and a chance to talk to him again. The hands holding your dress grasped the satin, nails digging on your skin, as you tried your best not to cry.

You wore this beautiful dress because you noticed how his eyes linger more whenever you have this dress on. But now, it was soaking wet and the feather light fabric hugged your body heavily. It feels disgusting.

The loud crackle of thunder spook you from where you were standing and that was what made the dam break. You silently cried and stood in the same spot, you have been standing about for hours.

You don’t even know if your body was shaking from the cold or from the agony of losing your closest confidant. Of losing Aemond by admitting to him that you have been in love with since forever. It was a foolish move to stop him from seeking a highborn noble lady’s hand in marriage.

It was cold that day, you were in panic and not thinking straight, when you ran up to where he was, admitted your feelings, and kissed him with no consent.

It was vivid how his face contorted from shock into rage. You have never seen him so furious. His eyes darkened when he pushed you away and your heart broke in a million pieces when he roughly scrubbed the back of his hand on his lips. An act of trying to erase what you did. He was your first and you were sure, you were his first kiss too.

His voice boomed when he raised his head and ordered you to leave. Scared, you did not think twice, running away from him. Since then, you have never seen him again. The areas he used to walk by were changed. And you know it was to lessen his encounter with you.

Everyday, you felt like a knife was stabbed within you and someone was slowly turning it around to deepen the cut. Everyone who knew and accepted that you were inseparable with Aemond keeps asking what happened. They never caught a glimpse of him around you for days and that was new to them. There were times that even though Aemond was busy, he would find a way just to have tea with you in the afternoon. They were curious about what changed. But you knew better.

In the Red Keep, only vultures live. They wanted to know what you did to the point of losing the prince’s favor.

They act as if you do not hear the whispers and speculations. Still you kept your mouth shut or sometimes fed them with lies to stop the sound surrounding you.

You gritted your teeth as you force yourself to smile as you lie on their faces. They nod as if understanding but once they thought you would not hear them, they will start to snicker followed by an insulting remark. The grins on their lips were wide and evil.

How you pray everyday that these ladies be blessed with no fruit and be thrown away for being useless by the very people they thought cared about them.

Your evil thoughts vanished when a heavy cloth was draped over your head. You looked up with surprise and came face to face with the second prince. His hair is a mess and he was wearing his dragon gear. Later, you would realize that he draped his robe over your head. His black gloves gripping the side of his robe to make sure it will not fall.

“Don’t you dare speak!” He yelled and you flinched from the volume of his voice. You closed your gaping mouth and swallowed. It tasted like salt and you know the rain water was mixed with your tears.

He then proceeded on getting a parchment from his pocket and the familiar paper was raised on his hand.

“I was not in King's Landing the whole day. What do you think would happen to you if I did not go home and see this letter!?” He screamed at the top of his lungs and all you could do was stare at him. You don’t even know if it was tears running down your face as you look at him. You haven’t seen him for a long time and you miss him.

No servants wanted to share his whereabouts so you assumed he would be at the castle. You were lucky that he went back home.

Delighted to see him, you did not hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck. You were elated that he went right away once he had gotten your letter. You were still important to him and that made your heart sing with joy.

You pulled him out of the hug and held his hands, with a wide grin you shared with him your plans. He must have been worried sick and dying too without seeing you for a while. You were sure he would agree to what you have for him today.

“I’ve heard in passing that you were looking for a bride. I could be your lady wife and you could be my lord husband. I will always be loyal to you. And I am also the first to taste your lips and you with mine so I think this would be a marvelous idea!”

A grin was plastered on your lips as you talked to him. But he only stared at you. Then, a dark look passed through his face but you were too happy to see it.

You grimaced when you felt his hold on your hands tightened. His grip was bruising and intent to hurt.

“A-Aemond… you’re hurting me.” You tried to pull away your hand but instead, he pulled you forward. You stumbled, inches closer to him when he opened his mouth and told you something. Even with the rain and the chaos, you heard him clear as a sunny day.

“I cannot marry you. You are a lowborn noble. My family needed power which you will not be able to provide. Let the bond which we first had be the same. You are still my friend. My loyal confidant. Do not ruin it.” After staring for a while, he left you dumbfounded, standing in the rain.

His straightforward, emotion voided words, echoed throughout your head.

He has no use of you.

Your legs weakened and you fell on the ground. Staring at the pitter patter of the rain, his words stabbed you deeply and you fainted from the shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You refused to go out of your chambers as his betrothal was officially announced. The people cheered. Even the servants were excited about the upcoming wedding of the second prince. But you know that everyone was just looking forward to the feast and freedom they would experience during their wedding day.

Meanwhile, the noble ladies were enthusiastic to meet nobles across the land who would visit to see this wedding. The days after the announcement was a torture for your heart. Although, you did your best to appear unaffected and happy for him.

Of course, there were rumors and insults thrown your way after the news, however, you did not let them in the mask you created. To save yourself and the only connection he had offered to you.

At the moment, you choose to be in your room to lessen having conversation with anyone. After the confrontation, you have been sick, fever barely going down for days. During those days, you never saw Aemond visit you. He probably chooses not to so he will not be sick, or that’s what you told yourself.

A sound of knocking caught your attention. You were confused because your servant went out and will be back for a while. If it was a visitor, you were in no mood to pretend and smile.

“I am not feeling well. I will go out some other time.” You shouted at whoever was at your door. Sometimes, some noble ladies or even servants knock at your door to check on you and invite you to go out. However, you refused them for two days now. The shock about the news was still fresh in your mind and you cannot process the pain you were suffering. They will never understand.

“My dear. ‘Tis I Alicient. May I come in?” With a jolt, you stood up and gasped, looking at the door. You did your best to fix your messy hair and straightened your days old chemise. When nothing happened, you decided to cover yourself with a shawl.

“I am going in.” She announced before she pushed the door open and you curtsied immediately. The motion made your head throb but the shock about the Queen’s visit was far greater than what you were feeling.

“Oh dear! Why are you up? You shouldn’t have. You are sick! Look at your pale face. You look so much thinner than when I last saw you.” She worriedly went over to you and held your hand, guiding you towards the nearest seat. You heard the door closed and you assumed that it must be Criston who decided to wait outside due to the status of your undress. You are an unwed lady and no man should see you looking like this.

The Queen fussed over you. You don’t even know how long until you end up sitting in front of your vanity while she brushes your hair then braids it. It was quiet for a while until she finally opened her mouth to speak.

“I know that you might not be feeling well but I needed to talk to you about an important responsibility I wish for you to accept.” You gulped when she started talking about why she was here. Alicient is a sweet woman but you have been here far too long to pretend a Queen will visit your chamber just to check how you have been. Even her own daughter Helaena doesn’t like her visits.

“The girl will be in need of a lady in waiting. And I knew Aemond had trusted you more than he trusted anyone in the palace. This position will also help your status in Red Keep and in this way, Aemond and his lady wife would be surrounded by their loyal subjects.” She finished as she tied your hair and she looked back at you in the mirror. She must have taken your surprise as a positive reaction and so she smiled.

“Fortnight, the wedding of Aemond will be held.” The eyes that had been staring at your fiddling hands, looked at her from the mirror. She is still focused on braiding your hair. Your mouth opens and closes from shock. That was way too fast. His wedding was announced days ago, yes, but he is no king that needed to be wed as soon as possible.

“We need people around us to whom we can trust. I know I can trust you. Please accept the offer for you and Aemond’s future, dear.” It was impossible that she did not hear about the rumors floating around about you and Aemond. So the fact that she was here to ask you, confirmed that she had spoken to Aemond and he denied any form of feelings for you aside from being his closest friend. With a forced smile, you accepted her offer and she gladly embraced you.

It’s not as if you have a choice either.

Being a lady in waiting for the second prince’s wife would boost your status and will also help your family. Other ladies deserve this position more than you but the Queen personally asking you to take the position, will solidify your status more than those other ladies.

She gave you one last sweet smile before she tiptoed and kissed your forehead. The action surprised you a bit but Alicient had treated you like her daughter too throughout your childhood. She had wished for you to get well soon and eat a lot so you would recover fast before she left.

Finally, alone to mourn another happy announcement.

~~~~~~~~

The ceremony was a blur.

The crowd cheered and they wished the newly wife and husband a happy marriage as you stood behind them as they waved to the crowd.

The feast tasted nothing and you did your task as they have taught you. Your body automatically helped out the bride to her needs throughout the day.

The whole day, Aegon looks miserable as he was not allowed to drink and be wasted on his brother’s wedding. Helaena helped throw the flowers and she even sang for her brother. Alicient was smiling and she looked at his son with love in her eyes. Meanwhile, you thought you were imagining it but now looking at his silver hair as he drank his wine, you realized that Aemond never looked at you, not even once in your direction. He always feels your eyes if you are looking at him and he has never been subtle calling you out before.

Standing behind them, you stare at his back the whole time but he was unnerved. The only time you pulled your eyes out of him was when the Baratheon girl called your name softly and chuckled lightly when she told you she needed help to change. She smells of wine and you know she was drunk. She was never kind when you first met her. There was an air of pride and status when you introduced yourself to her. She even told you that you should be thankful for the Queen for giving you such an important task. With a bow, you agreed and let her harsh words out of your ear.

She stumbled all the way to her chamber and you did your best to help her not fall. On the way to her room, the quiet of the hallways had made you realize something important. The two will consummate their wedding tonight and as a lady in waiting, you have to stand outside and wait for them to finish.

You will help her prepare. You will hear them. And you will see her after they do it.

What did you do to suffer so much for loving someone more than you love yourself?

“I was told you were close to my husband.” She said with a slur.

How shameful.

She acted so mighty when you first saw her but you know well that the pressure of the responsibility had made a small crack to her resolve. Ladies such as her will never know the cruelty of politics in King’s Landing until they are arranged to marry and see it for themselves.

Now, she is trying her best to assess your loyalty to her and is checking if you are a problem, a secret lover, of the said husband.

“I am merely a lowborn noble who grew up with the prince, my lady. My loyalty lies to those who stood beside him. I am entrusted for your care because he cares for you and your well-being.” You replied, as you helped her remove the pins on her hair. Her jet dark black hair spilled out. It was beautiful and well taken off.

She nodded and tapped your shoulder. You knew this would not be the last but she was drunk and out of her wits to continue for the night. She stood up and you understood that she needed help with her dress. You assisted her shimmy out of her corset and clothes. And you gave her satin chemise, that she brought for this special day. Once you did a last do over of her look, you bowed and she decided to sit on the bed.

“The one-eyed prince, Prince Aemond is here.” Your ears perked from the sound of his namee and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from looking at his figure as he walked inside the room. With a deep curtsy, you went to his wife’s side and did not dare look at Aemond even though you could feel his eyes on you for a second.

Once he went towards his lady wife. You slowly went to the door, servants followed you out and they quietly closed the door behind you.

Your eyes widened when it was Ser Criston you saw outside. He nodded in recognition and you did the same. The night will be long for you and your heart.

The sound of whispers, the creak of the bed, the groans and moans was like a torture for you. You know that being a lady in waiting means you have to make sure that they do it to secure an heir but maybe the Queen chose you to be in here to make sure that you will not be a problem. To torture you into giving up having any dreams of being with Aemond. How cruel if that was proven true.

Even with a lot of people outside their door, it was quiet. Except for the flicker of the flames from the torches and occasional hoots of owls. All the while you begged your mind to tune out the louds sounds they were making inside and let your mind wander and think of a fond memory.

You remembered those days where Aemond will look at you so softly and your heart will flutter when he smiles. His hands were soft and warm. He was so beautiful. However, the feeling inside your chest scared you. Your grandfather died from having a weak heart. What if you have it too?

You did not hesitate during that time to visit a maester and let him check your heart. He took your fear seriously when he saw your small face, paled with worry. However, you did not understand when he checked your body and you told him what happened. Not mentioning Aemond’s name. Somehow, it feels embarrassing but you do not know why.

He smiled oh so kindly and told you that you were a healthy young lady. He also refused to explain why it happened. Instead, he reassured you that your heart is normal and you would understand what it was once you get older.

And you did.

One day, when the young noble ladies sat down for an afternoon tea. They talked about love that day. They shared the feeling of falling for someone and you can’t help but blushed when you realize what your feelings were. Since then, no matter how much you try not to fall deeper for him, everything he does pulls you into him further. Everyday your heart yearns for his heart to accept your love.

Thoughts left your mind, when suddenly, the Prince’s servants enter the room. It did not take them long to help Aemond out and you curtsied once he was out. Instead of leaving right away though, he stopped in front of you and you can’t help but straighten your back and look at him.

“Make sure she will be comfortable. Help her out.” That was his last words before he walked away and slowly went back to his room.

After everyone made sure the Prince had left, followed by Ser Criston, you were the first one to enter the room and you saw the lady sitting on the side, a blanket covering her lithe body, her back turned to the door. She was shaking.

They said that the first always hurts.

Your eyes scan the bed. The sight froze you for a moment but you composed yourself and nodded to another servant to confirm that the wedding was consummated. The dark stain on the white sheet did not lie. The lady’s original servant smiled before leaving. And you knew it was supposed to be a happy moment, but deep inside, your whole heart crumbled to pieces. This night seems to last forever.

Trying not to think about it, you softly called his Lady Wife and told her you readied a bath for her, with oils that will relieve the pain of her first.

The lady nodded and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying.

~~~~~~~

Your death is upon you.

You remembered it was raining that night.

You remembered feeling hot with pure rage and anger about her lying to Aemond.

Somehow you caught rumors about the child she was carrying was truly a bastard. It turns out the reason why the Baratheon’s was rushing the wedding was because her daughter was already pregnant.

You would never care for such things because they were just rumors. Until a month after the wedding. She announced she was carrying an heir. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be pregnant that fast after the times Aemond had visited her chambers. But then you were the lucky one to witness her betrayal. You were carrying out some tasks that morning, when you saw your lady’s knight kissing her hand. The oddest thing was the way they looked at each other. It was full of longing. Then with full passion, Aemond’s wife grabbed the knight’s face and kissed him. You left a silent gasp and did your best to move far away from them, scared about what you had witnessed.

You have told yourself that maybe you saw it wrong but there’s a voice inside you, screaming in anger to save Aemond from their lies. In your free time, in secret, you looked for information about their relationship and you found out that they were indeed lovers. You have sold all your riches you hid for yourself for this important information. And this will not end well.

It was maybe the pure rage that made you do it. You do not know. But earlier all you could see were red from madness…….. until it faded and the only thing in your field of vision was her limp body full of stabbed wounds lying below you. Your hands, red from her blood, and red drips down at the tip of the knife you used to stab her.

Your legs were in between her, completely trapping the lady, and your dress was drenched with a warm, deep red color. You looked at your reflection at the bath water she was supposed to use, that you prepared for her. Your hair was all over the face and your face had scratches from her nails when she fought back.. You were breathing heavily and you watched as your face contorted from rage, to shock, into absolute terror. What have you’ve done!?

In denial, you shook your head, looked around, checking if anyone saw what you did. Once you confirmed no one was around, you quickly came near the bath water and cleaned the blood off your hands, your hair and face.The stench of iron was strong and you can’t help but vomit in disgust.

In panic you stood up, knife clattered on the floor. With shaking hands, you check her nose for any signs of breathing but only her glassy eyes stared back at you. You let out a silent scream.

You were occupied thinking and mumbling about what you should do, what you must do while scrubbing your body raw. That you did not hear the creak of the opening door and footsteps of someone entering the room. Aemond’s voice calling your name froze your body and slowly, you looked at him. His eyes were wide with fear and his mouth agape from shock. You know he doesn’t need an explanation about what happened and it was obvious what you did.

You were mumbling incoherently when you felt someone touched your arms and his calloused hand, grabbed your chin and forced you to look at his lilac eyes. His face was eerily void with emotions when he asked you a question.

Before he could speak, you were on your knees, hugging his legs, begging for forgiveness. You rambled about what you found. Told him about what you had witnessed. That the child wasn’t his and the marriage was all a plot planted by the Baratheon’s to take advantage of the throne. You even shared what you did to acquire the truth, what you have to sacrifice. But you were so mad that you confronted her yourself when you found out the truth, and it all led to this. You were a sobbing mess and you do not know if he understood your words but you still told him everything….everything you know without missing a beat.

“How sure were you that the child wasn’t mine?”

“The servants from the storm end confessed to me.” You were choking from your own tears as you mouthed where you got the confirmation. He stared at you for a while then you heard him sigh. He then dropped you to the floor and you crawled backwards when he went back out of the door. The worst was already running inside your head. You will die the cruelest way and you admit that you were not ready for it. All you did was protect Aemond. The love of your life, right?

Outside, you heard a grunt, then the door swung open with a bang. You saw him carry the Baratheon girl’s loyal servant inside. He then dropped them off the floor, in front of you. And you gulped. Confused as to what was going on.

“Change your clothes into hers. Then make sure she will wear your clothes.” You frowned about his order but then he looked at you, eyes all serious, and so you nodded and did what he told you to do. He then spoke again and you were surprised by what you were hearing coming from his mouth.

“No one will know about today and that servant will be you now.” Even not fully understanding his intention, you removed your clothes and made sure to clean off the blood on your body before you changed into the servant's uniform. While you were changing, Aemond was busy dragging bodies of the servants and knights you poisoned before killing his wife inside the room.

“Here and go to the room near the library. Everyone was outside, celebrating for Aegon and to see the celebration, and so I am sure no one will see you. Go behind the wall, we used to hide and you’ll see a secret passageway to go outside. It will take you near the sea. Pretend to be drenched, and buy a new set of clothes. Ride a public carriage boarding to riverlands. Go to my bought home and they will let you in if you show them my seal. Live there for a while and hide. From now on, you are one of the people who will die in this fire. You are now dead. Do not come back.” He instructed, carefully and clearly.

“What fire?” Confused you asked. Until you witnessed how he shoved all the candles at the flammable clothes and fabrics inside the room. You were frozen at your place as you watched the flames eat everything, everyone inside the room. You heard your name but you stood there, stone cold. You cannot take your eyes away from it until he tugged you out of the room. Running and dragging you to the chamber near the library.

He held your hand as you two made way to the secret passageway. It was quiet and only the sound of your feet walking, echoing, on the walls. He then stopped at a corner, with two different turns.

“How about you? I do not understand why you let me go.” You asked worriedly, still out of it.

“Be safe and be careful. This will be the place we must depart.” He said.

“I will be fine. This path will lead near the room I was last seen by knights. No one would suspect I was with you. Go before the sun rises. Take care and make sure to live through this night. Do not come back to King's Landing.” He squeezed your arm to reassure you one last time. He then gave you his robe he uses as a disguise, and you nodded at him as you ran towards the exit.

Once outside, you followed his instructions. You pretended to trip on the water and the people around helped you out.You laughed at the vendors and made humor of your status, and they willingly helped you change your clothes. You made sure to buy the most common dress you could buy. After you changed, you made sure that your previous clothes would be underwater, as you wrapped it tightly around a heavy rock, before you dropped it. Watching it be engulfed at the deepest of seas. Then you rode a carriage heading to the riverlands.

You watched from afar as the billow of smoke was seen at the Red Keep. The people at the market slowly moved towards the castle while your carriage continued moving forward. The truth will turn to ashes in no time. Only the two of you would know what truly happened.

~~~~~~~

In the next town, you caught the whispers about the death of the prince's wife and all of her servants and knights. The news said that the king’s landing was in chaos and the king of storm’s end was furious. They said nothing remained out of those people but ashes and black chalk.

“How cruel. Who could have done something like this? To a pregnant woman too!?” The old folks voiced their fear as they served you with your food. They looked like they were neighbors and it was too early for anyone to arrive at this place so they still have the time for nonsense chitchat.

“Ha! Whoever that was he will surely be killed. I am sure of it.” They continued gossiping and you swallowed the food as fast as you could. You did not even taste it but told the owner it tasted wonderful and gave her a bit of silver added from your bill. She thanked you and wished you well on your journey.

The walk outside was peaceful, no one was out this early and you enjoyed the sound of the wind. You decided to drop to the town before the Riverlands and throw out the plans Aemond had made for you.

You were not certain that the child wasn’t his.

You smiled at the innkeeper as she greeted you when you walked back in. You rented a room to stay at this place to do your other plans. Once inside your room, you sat in front of the fireplace and prayed for the gods for forgiveness for what you have done.

With a deep inhale, you threw his seal on the pot you put atop the scorching fire. You watched before your eyes how it melted and carefully poured it out into small pieces. Once done, you put it in the water to cool it.

The whole process did not take too long and you readied yourself to ride the horse you bought with your coins for another journey. The fire in your eyes cannot be extinguished as you yelled for the horse to run heading towards the north.

No one will know that you lied.

But if it wasn’t his, then you did it because you love him so much.

If the child was a fruit from him, then the death of that child was the karma he deserved for breaking your heart.

All your lies will die on that fire and you will start anew in the north where no one dares to live because of the unforgiving cold.

It is true that a person will do anything for love. Tragic maybe for others but you regret nothing.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #prince aemond #aemond fic #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd fic #aemond x reader #dark!reader #eydi andrius #fic: agape

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mejcinta · 8 months ago

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These interesting shots from the Trailers and/stills make me lose my mind. 🧐🧐🔥🔥

1. Upon a closer look Aegon, mounted on Sunfyre, appears to be wearing a red cape???

2. Tyland Lannister and Grand Maester Orwyle welcome Alicent to the small council. Criston seems to still be her sworn protector here, with his s1 haircut.

3. Aegon confronting Larys, armored and ready for war.

4. Aegon will wear the Conqueror's Crown to war.

5. A gold cloak being bribed to let intruders into the Keep.

6. In this still of Helaena she is embroidering. One of her children with Aegon seems to be playing in the background. 👀👀

7. The aftermath of Blood and Cheese. The shot below is ominously slow, showing a bedsheet soaked in Blood.

8. Aegon about to beat a prisoner's face in with something that resembles the weapon Blood carried into the Red Keep. 👀

9. Dreamfyre upset, has to be quelled down by a dragon keeper. 👀👀

10. Criston is already Hand here, as the golden chain around his neck indicates. This could be before or during Aemond's regency, as Aemond states he's willing to take Daemon on.

#hotd s2 #hotd trailer breakdown #the greens #blood and cheese #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #criston cole #larys strong #tyland lannister #màester orwyle #sunfyre #dreamfyre

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kitkatscabinet · 2 years ago

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Can I request Aegon, Aemond, and Daemon with a Targ fem!reader s/o whose dragon hates the guys please?

Sorry this is short, I'm sick :(

Aegon

the most bothered by it visibly

he's definitely thrown several tantrums over it

at first, you think it's kind of cute and give in to his demands to stay in bed or cuddle as you stroke his hair

but it gets to the point where he tries to forbid you from going to see "that awful, hateful beast."

this of course causes its fair share of arguments and actually puts a tangible strain on the relationship

it's a terrible cycle which in turn makes your dragon hate him even more

Aegon wants to monopolise all your time and is a stubborn, selfish brat so I don't see him ever being the person to come to a compromise.

If this is an arranged marriage (almost definitely) it really does cause a massive strain as you aren't willing to give up spending time with your dragon.

Aemond

the least visibly bothered by it (it stings his pride a lot)

Mr obsessed with dragons plays it off as dragons simply being dragons

he secretly dives into researching how to make a dragon like him. discreetly tries to bribe your dragon which only backfires even further. because who is this presumptuous sketchy man trying to gain their favour

It drives Aemond insane even though he'll never admit it

Daemon

he thinks it's funny. At first

because doesn't your stupid beast know that you love him more? (you don't). That you'll pick Daemon every time (you won't)

You kind of just have to let him live in his delusions

it gets less amusing when your dragon will no longer let you go on flights with him on Caraxes

even more so when your stupid beast won't fly side by side with Caraxes either

gets really huffy

starts to pull you into bed more, leaves very visible marks as his own way of revenge

you pointedly don't tell him how ridiculous he's being every time he shoots a smug look at your dragon, hand resting possessively on your waist

#daemon targaryen x reader #dameon targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader

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eraenaa · 11 months ago

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My Knight in Darkened Armor (Royalty AU)

Knight Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Ser Aemond Targaryen has been tasked to be the sworn protector of a princess who is overly curious about life beyond the castle walls and has bribed him to escort her to the city in exchange for anything he desires. She just did not know that what he desired was her.

Word Count: 4,373

Warnings: Mature, 18+, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, jealousy, possessive

Carnival—your favorite time of the year. The only chance for you to leave the cushioned walls of the keep that your father was intent on keeping you in. Sheltered and stored— protected and preserved. You now marvel at the scene outside. Merriment in every corner, cheers and hollers everywhere your carriage passed. “Stay close to your knight… danger lurks even in the happiest of days,” your father warned. You mindlessly nod as you smile at the outside world that you were rarely given a taste of.

As you stepped out of the wheelhouse, your knight in his ever-dark armor waited for you. His hand led out to escort you toward a tent in the middle of the town square. The performers were ready to entertain you and your King father, as well as the others who merrily celebrated the day. “Enough scowling; it is the most joyous of days,” You said to your knight. Ever since he was assigned to you, he had been overly serious— overly protective. Entirely strict and hard to be rid of, never leaving you out of his sight, not even for a moment. His eye always trailed and followed your every move in case the danger you doubted would occur finally happened. “It is as well the most dangerous of days there is, princess.” He answered stoically. Eye passing through the crowd, searching for any threats.

“You often speak of danger, but there is clearly none. Try to enjoy yourself… you are still a man who feels under all that armor, yes?” You asked, your gaze flying upwards to the knight who stood by your right. You gazed up at him, searching for his eye through visor. When you locked upon his unique lilac eye, you dare say you saw a hint of mirth in them.

When the performances began, you lost yourself in the scenes before you. Actors that were so greatly gifted in their talents, for they have managed to sway your mind and made you believe that all the stories they told were true. However, at times, you would hear Aemond scoff his disagreement at a scene. You were glad of his annoyance and disagreement because it meant that he as well, did watch the performance.

When it was time for your father to name the victorious performers who had the most believable presentation, the king stood, and Aemond, along with another knight, stood behind him in protection—leaving you to be faced with their backs, finally unattended. As all citizens had their gazes planted on their king, you, for the first time in your life, did something you were not supposed to do. You indulged yourself and escaped their almost suffocating hold disguised as protection and safety. You have lived in your kingdom for seven and ten years, but the extent of your knowledge of it was the mere castle walls— you intend to change that matter, and you intend to see the kingdom you were to inherit when the time comes.

Aemond moved his head behind to look upon you once more, but he felt his stomach pit as the seat meant for you was now empty. The cloak you wore as you exited the wheelhouse was gone as well. Aemond turned to the king who now realized you were now gone. “Find her quickly.” The king gritted, hoping none notice your escape, fearing that his sheltered child would be made a prey by the small folk. “Now!” The king roared, and Aemond quickly ran to his steed and searched for you, the princess.

You walked the streets of your kingdom, your hood covering you from exposure. Everything was almost so unfamiliar to you, but you find your blood spiking in thrill for all the experiences you were yet to discover. You watched as a group gathered, and your curiosity led you to them. You felt your lips twitch as men used pots and mere objects to produce music. Your gaze went towards the young man in the middle, singing a different and new tune that had captured all’s attention and ears, even yours. His hazel eyes scanned the crowds that swayed upon his song. His hand moved to comb his brown locks, and he winked at a group of girls around your age, making them squeal and blush. You watched as others moved and gave them coins, appreciation for the music they performed.

When their song ended, the group that surrounded them dissolved little by little, and that was when you decided to offer your appreciation as well. Bending down to offer two silver coins, hoping it would serve as motivation for them to continue to perform such a great song. You kept your head low and did not engage with anyone, but still, you were noticed. “Hello,” the young man with a melodious voice greeted. Your eyes moved to look upon him, who gazed at you, trying to make out what you covered under your hood. “Hello,” You said as well, un certain on what to do. “I… I hoped you liked our performance; if you did, we have another one tomorrow night,” he said, still trying to see your face clearly. “I did… it was quite good,” you answered and tried to back away, but a stray dog that passed behind you made you trip and start to lose balance.

Luckily, the young man before you was quick to take hold of your arm and pull you steady. But in exchange for your balance was your cover, your hood falling back and revealing your face. You feel your cheeks heat as realization comes to the hazel orbs of the young man before you. “Your hi—“ You quickly shook your head and shushed him, “Please, don’t,” You said and raised your hood once more, warily looking around to see if anyone else saw you. “What are you doing here? Your hig—“ The young man whose hold still has not left yours tried to call you upon your title once more, but you gave him a pointed look that made his words die on his tongue, a look of sheepishness coming to his face.

“What is your name?” You asked, “Jacaerys,” He answered. You smiled and gave a nod, “I wanted to see the city. They rarely let me outside castle walls,” You explained to the stranger; it was not smart of you, but there was something about him. Something warm and a sense of trustworthiness that made you tell him the truth. Jacaerys raised his brow, “You escaped your guards?” He asked, and you slowly nodded. Before either of you could speak again, you heard the furious gallops of a horse. And almost instantly, your body knew who was to approach. You and Jacaerys turned to see your sworn shield cutting through the crowds in search of you. You thought about running, still wanting to see more, but it was too late as you felt the familiar gaze of his lone eye upon you.

“Remove your hold on the princess, Jacaerys,” You hear him call menacingly. You furrow your brow as to why he already knew the young man’s name. “Un—“ Aemond raised his hand and silenced the boy. Using his other hand to pull you to him. You had no room to argue or plea as you felt Ser Aemond’s hard and rough hold upon your waist, lifting you to mount his steed. You watched as your knight moved closer to Jacaerys, bending down to whisper something in his ear. You watched as the boy’s face grew pale, but you could not voice out your concern or ask if he was well because Aemond moved to mount his horse, sitting behind you and swiftly galloping away. You sat in silence and almost fear as Aemond had his arms around your waist, the two of you riding towards the castle where your father waited with a sermon.

“Is he angry?” You ask your knight as you neared the castle gates. Hoping he would slow his steed down so you would not be delivered to your punishment so soon. Aemond smirked at your question, taking a deep breath and savoring the smell of you. He let his horse gallop slower, wanting to prolong the time he had you in his arms for a while more. “You escaped during the most crowded day of the year— where all people from the entire kingdom… thieves, murderers, and criminals could go about in plain sight. What do you think, princess?” He asked and kept his smirk as he heard you puff and lean your back to his chest. “You’ll be fine; we both know your father is very lenient when it comes to you,” Aemond tried to console you as he saw the adorable pout on your pink lips. His mind filled with a thought he should never entertain.

You stood before your father in his study. Head hung low in shame. He had not said a word yet, simply stewing in his anger, but you already feel tears welling in your eyes. You hear the creek of his chair as he stands, and that is when the first pearl tear escapes your eyes and lands on the floor. You hear your father sigh, “I have yet to say anything why then do you already cry?” He asked and made you lift your gaze. “I’m sorry!” You quickly said. You could not bear it when he was cross with you; just the slight tone of disappointment in his voice and the look in his eyes was enough for you to cry for forgiveness. “I just wanted to learn more about our kingdom— I wanted to see how our people live and what they do.” You reasoned. That was your main goal when you slipped away. You were only distracted by the song Jacaerys and his group performed.

You looked upon your father, teary-eyed, watching him sigh and shake his head. “You will do no such thing again, do you understand?” He asked sternly, and you quickly nodded your head and left his study when he dismissed you. Outside in the hall, your knight waited for you, ready with a handkerchief to wipe away your tears. “Thank you,” You said quietly, and Aemond gave a nod. His helmet was finally removed, and you could see his straight silver hair gleaming in the evening light. You’ve always been jealous of his hair; you’ve always wanted to run your hands through it, but it was deemed inappropriate, so you never could.

When he accompanied you to your chambers, you had a question in mind. “How do you know Jacaerys?” You asked and paused in your tracks, looking before the knight who had a forever serious look on his face. He stayed silent for a moment, but you kept your expecting gaze upon him. “He is a very distant relative,” He finally answered, and you gave a nod. “Why did you not say you are acquainted with a performer— a good one at that? I have been looking for entertainment. Perhaps Father could invite him and his group to sing a song of two here,” You mused and watched a scowl start to spread on his face. “It is best not to, princess.” Ser Aemond answered. You frowned at the animosity in his voice. “Why not?” You asked. Aemond clenched his jaw at your questions and intrigue upon his nephew. “Good night princess,” Aemond said as you were now before your chamber door. You frowned as he avoided your question but ultimately sighed and entered your room, knowing he would not answer it.

The following day, as you broke your fast, you found yourself humming the tune you heard the day before. Your mind reminding you of the invitation said that Jacaerys and his group were to perform once more that night. You chewed on your lip as there was a part of you that wanted to watch and escape again. You stared at your knight, who stood still at his post, wondering how to escape him.

Aemond gulped and urged himself not to waver as he felt your steady gaze upon him. He felt his knees grow weak with each passing moment you kept your brilliant eyes on his frame; he felt himself grow warm by the look of concentration on your pretty face. “Is there something you need, princess?” He finally asked. He watched you blink, plush lips parting before him, indecent thoughts plaguing his mind. “I…” You began. Watching as your sworn shield walked closer to you, his imposing demeanor enveloping you. You quite liked that about him— how petrifying he looked and acted, but with the year he was assigned to you, you saw through the cracks of his cold and hard armor, and it revealed softness and warmth. “Can you come with me to the city t—“ You could not even finish to word out your request as he was quick to shake his head. “No.” He said decisively. Aemond bit his tongue as a dejected look came to your eyes, and your lips formed the unconscious pout you always had when things did not go your way. “Please— I swear I’ll behave. I w—“ Aemond sighed and shook his head once more. “No. If your father ever heard about me sneaking you out of the castle— he will have my head.” He said, but you only disagreed. “He won’t! I swear of it!” You said, but your knight only scoffed and rolled his lone eye in disbelief.

“Please! I’ll give you whatever you desire if you take me to the city tonight,” You tried to bribe him. Aemond clenched his jaw as your eyes widened, begging him to agree. His mind, as well, did not miss the bribe you clearly uttered without shame. But he was more shameless, for he agreed. He felt his heart stutter as you beamed at him, bouncing in your seat in joy; his eye caught as your ample chest heaved when you did the action. His mind running with thoughts, his body turning alight. Aemond cleared his throat and returned to his post and willed himself to be rid of such disgraceful thoughts.

Aemond swallowed hard as he had his hand clasped around yours. Him guiding you through the crowded streets of your kingdom. “Your hood,” Aemond warned, pulling you closer to him. He reluctantly brought you back to the street, where you watched his nephew perform. He felt enraged over the fact that the only reason you wanted to leave the castle walls and rebelled against your father’s wishes was to see his bastard nephew perform. He placed you and himself behind the crowd. You urged him to go closer, but you were refused. “I have told you we will not engage with anyone.” He sternly warned.

You did not miss the animosity in his voice once again and how his scowl was deeper. The performance was starting, a folk song made by their group, but your attention was on the knight whose hold now traveled to your waist and held you close and tight to him. “Why are you angry?” You asked. His eye scanned around to see if there was danger. “I am not,” He answered. “You are,” you insisted. Aemond’s jaw clenched as he saw his nephew you spot you two, moving towards the princess in his grasp. You let out a sound surprise as your knight started to drag you through the streets once more, ignoring your call as he made furious steps that you could not quite match.

“Aemond!” You called, and he finally halted, pulling you towards a dark and narrow alley. “Why did you want to watch him? Why did you want to see Jacaerys again?” He asked furiously. You stared wide eyed as you had never seen such fury in his eye. “I…I,” you stuttered in slight fear. “You were willing to endanger yourself— willing to let your father grow angry with you once more, all for him? All for Jacaerys?” He seethed, and you started to see a familiar yet foreign emotion in him. “Are you jealous?” You dare ask. His face was so close to you that your breathing started to mix, and you could see clearly the scar that ran down the left side of his face. “No,” He said unconvincingly after a moment. You raised your brow, “You were fine escorting me out of the castle walls earlier… but once you learned that I wanted to watch their performance, you grew irritable… are you jealous, Ser Aemond?” You asked even though you knew the answer.

Aemond narrowed his eye at the speck of amusement in your orbs. His face threaded closer, and only now did he grow aware of how flushed your bodies were against each other. He felt his eye flash dangerously as he caught you licking your lips as you gazed at him with your innocent eyes. Your plush pink lips parted again, and the thoughts he tried hard to suppress and ignore were now the only thing on his mind. “You owe me something, princess,” He instead said, pushing his body closer to your frame that was backed up on the alley wall. “I have taken you to the city… now you must give me something that I desire.” You swallowed at the deep tone of his voice, at the dark look in his eye, and how he trapped you to your place with arms. “And… and what is that do you desire? Coin? Something valuable and pretty like jewels, perhaps?” You asked. You watched him smirk and lightly shake his head. “Oh… it is very valuable— overly pretty as well, but no, not jewels, princess.” He whispered. You feel your heart stutter, your breathing caught in your throat as his face inched closer. “Then… then what is that you want?” You asked. You watch him smirk, his hold on your waist growing tighter. “You.” You whimper as his lips pressed against yours. His lips were warm, punishing, and soft.

Aemond wanted to scream at himself— hinder himself, and declare himself mad for doing such actions. To kiss the princess that he had sworn an oath to protect. But as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening your kiss, he could not be bothered by his sensibilities. He could not be bothered by propriety as your lips danced against each other. Clinging and never wanting to part. “Oh, Aemond,” You called as you parted for air, but the knight would only let you take one breath before intertwining your lips again— to be lost in pleasure again. “Tell me you want me too,” Aemond almost begged as he parted your lips again. You gazed up at him, lilac eye hopeful and wanting. “I want you, A—“ You could not finish your sentence as he took hold of your hand again and started to pull you out of the alley.

Your mind was dazed as you followed him, as you let him take you wherever it was. It took you longer to realize that you were inside castle walls once more, nearing your bed chambers. He turned to you; his wanting eye filled with lust slowly started to be filled with uncertainty, but you shook your head. He had managed to stir something within you, a burn, a coil inside that made you grow crazed.

You pulled him to your chambers, “I did promise you that I’ll give you what you desired,” You whispered and stood to the tip of your toes to kiss his lips. Your hand searched for his and guided them to undo the laces of your gown. He called upon your name, uncertain as he reluctantly parted your lips, but you shook your head. “I want you.” You said. It was the truth; ever since he was made to be your sworn protector, you could not help but be attracted to him. Him and his handsome scowling face. Him and his cold and rough but gentle touch. Him and his unique platinum hair and alluring lilac eye.

You heard him groan, and you feared he would leave, but you smirked as he placed his lips against yours once more and started to undo the laces of your dress. “On the bed, now.” He ordered, and you obeyed quickly. You were now only dressed in your shift— sheer and light. You were positive he could see every single trace of your being.

You sat by the edge of the bed, anticipating what he was to do next. You blushed as he started to remove his clothing. “Have I ever told you how pretty you look when you blush?” He asked, and that only deepened the color in your cheeks, eliciting a chuckle from him. You feel your heartbeat spike as he walks closer to you, your knight now only dressed in his trousers—a prominent bulge in the middle called for your attention. You sighed as he kissed your lips again, his hand coming to take hold of yours, doing the same as you did, guiding your hand to rest upon the dent in his pants. “Do you feel what you do to me, princess?” He asked, his lips moving to kiss your neck, his hand guiding you to stroke his length. You could only let out a small moan in response.

You took in a harsh breath as Aemond moved you to lie down, anticipation coursing through your veins. “Are you certain?” He asked as his lips hung above yours; you nodded and met his thin lips to be lost in his sweet kisses. You whimper as his hand moves to cup your tit, giving it a firm squeeze, the bud growing taut upon his touch. His other hand stopped guiding yours as it moved to your thigh, him caressing the limb and teasing you with every boring touch.

“A—Aemond,” You called; you wanted more. He hummed and gazed upon your eyes. His right hand is palming your tit, and his left hand caressing your thigh. “Please,” was all you could say, but it was enough as you watched him sink to his knees. Hands are moving to part your legs, bringing more wetness to your cunt with every action he took. “Oh gods,” Aemond breathed as he was met with your cunt— needy and calling for his touch. He shoved away his hesitancy and fears and did what he knew he should have done long before— claim every single part of you. Ruin you for any man, prince, or king to come.

You cried out his name as his lips met with your cunt. Licking, sucking, and nibbling the sensitive skin. Bringing pleasure in all he did. “More,” You called, your hands losing themselves in his hair, finally gliding your fingers upon the silky strands. “Aemond, please— I need more,” You pleaded and whined as he ignored your call, simply continuing his torment on your needing bud and his teasing fingers upon your entrance. “Beg harder, princess.” He hummed, smirking at your cunt as you shamelessly did what he said.

“Please Aemond… I want you— I need you to-to fuck me. Claim my maidenhead; I’m all yours.” Aemond turned rigged upon your words— searing pleasure enveloped him upon your words. He had never heard you so foul, so lewd— so desperate. And it was all for him. You feel your heartbeat stop as he finally moves atop you. You gasped as he ripped away your shift, leaving you bare and perfectly positioned for him to take you. You feel your eyes water as his length, thick and long, starts to break its way through. Aemond closed his eyes tightly at how you felt. You were so tight and warm; the pleasure you provided was almost painful— completely overwhelming him. “Just a little more… you’ll be a good princess and take all of me, yes?” He murmured against your neck, feeling as the tears glide down your eyes. You could only nod and hope the pain would be quick to turn into pleasure.

“So fucking tight—so pure… all for me to ruin,” He growled as his length was finally fully sheathed inside you, finally feeling every single inch of your body. Your breathing turned labor as he thrust slowly, the pain finally turning to the blinding pleasure you sought. Aemond let out an amused breath as he watched you roll your eyes back in complete pleasure; your bite on your lips was so harsh that Aemond feared you would draw blood. “Does my princess like that, hm? Do you like being fucked like a common whore?” He gritted through his own pleasures. Your moans were answer enough. “Louder— let the entire kingdom hear how your knight pleasures you,” Aemond smirked as you still did what he said; neither cared about being found. In reality, he would prefer it, for it will bind him to you.

“Aemond— oh gods, I…I,” you could not find your words as you felt your insides painfully coil, wanting something you were not quite certain of. Aemond hummed and moved his thumb to draw circles upon your nubbin, letting the coil grow tighter. You writing against him, desperate for something you have no words for. “Are you to come, my princess? Are you to come by the pleasure of my hands and cock?” Aemond asked and smirked as you lost yourself, as you could only comprehend his pleasurable actions. He let out a groan as you clenched around him, painfully and pleasurably so. Your knight is on the verge of release as well. His rhythmic and savoring trusts turned sloppy and desperate. “Come and scream my name, princess.” He ordered with one long final thrust of his cock and flick of his thumb. You coming undone by his touch. His groans mixed with yours, neither of you weary as his seed filled your cunt.

He collapsed atop you as both of you came down from the highs of your release. Five words leaving his lips, an oath that he will keep for the rest of his life. “You’re all mine now, princess.”

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