#aemond targaryen x fem reader

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Family Secrets ⭑

Masterlist

A/N: (s)creaming-

Request: No

Pairing: Perv!Aemond x Niece!reader

Warnings: NFSW, +18 mdni, male mastrubation, aemond fr being a nasty perv be warned no but like fr, female mastrubation/pillow humping, making out, dirty talk in high valyrian, p in v sex and creampie.

Summary: Aemond finds it hard to control his sick desires for his niece and can't help but play with her.

Word count: 5k

The sea waves crashed against the side of the large Targaryen fleet, nerves flowed through you at every shake of the wooden planks. Usually a voyage on the sea didn’t scare you in any way but the windy and stormy morning made it a lot less pleasant. Your brothers however didn’t seem to mind, the clinging of their swords ringing through the air.

They loved to practise whenever they could, and if you didn’t feel so unnerved by the weather you would’ve joined them. You were glad to see one of the servants coming towards you with a flagon of wine. Raising your cup she swiftly filled it with the red liquid. Sipping on the strong dornish wine, you tried to focus on anything but the assault of the waves.

The dragon calls could be heard above, Caraxes, Syrax, your own dragon, Vermax and Arrax soared along the ship. The walls shielded you from the sight of them though. The amber glow from the candles filled the darkened royal cabin, secluded on the quarterdeck of the ship. 

The dark clouds shielded the sun from shining its warmth on the waves of the sea and so even on the ship it was quite chilly. But nothing ran a shiver up your spine more than your family's return to King’s Landing. You didn’t understand the need for it but you didn’t have the nerve to tell your mother that.

The future queen was filled with dread herself, you noticed. Word had reached Dragon Stone from Alicent that King Viserys was in a bad condition and even though they had their differences, she felt like a reunion between father and daughter would do her husband some good.

And so the morning after the raven arrived, you had set sail. You wondered how your family was doing, but with the likely chances of this whole visit ending badly, you wished you could only wonder. But there was no turning back now as you looked out the small window and The Red Keep came into view.

And so it was only about half an hour later when your weakened legs stepped onto the shores of King’s Landing, a coach and some members of the King’s Guard waiting for you. Following your mother and Daemon, with your brothers behind you, a hand reached out to help you inside.

The rattling coach did not help calm you as you anticipated the whole ordeal, your mother spoke softly with Daemon about sending for maester Gerardys and your brothers both silently stared out the window. Everybody was tense, the unspoken past lingered in the air. It was only six years ago that your sweet younger brother Luke, took Aemond’s eye. 

Even though a little boy like him had no idea what he had done, it was still a grave wound that cut the family in half. What only made the situation worse was the bullying Aegon had led, making it seem like Luke had done it on purpose. Your uncle and yourself were never necessarily friends either, but at the least friendly with each other.

But who could blame him for hating all of you from that moment on? No one. It was only fueled by Alicent as well, her own spite for her step-daughter and her bastards burning inside her. Alas after all these years, you would have to face each other again. 

After what seemed ages you finally arrived within the courtyard of The Red Keep, the door of the coach opened and your mother stepped out as a shrill voice announced her, Daemon followed and so did you and your brothers. There, only a few paces in front of the coach were Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, Otto and three of the small council members. 

Your mother went first to greet them, Daemon by her side, hand on the hilt of his sword. Dragons could be heard and seen flying in circles above you, it gave you comfort that your own dragon was close, if something were to happen. You took a deep breath and followed with your brothers to greet Alicent, Otto and your uncles and aunt. It was awkward enough and thank the gods over quickly.

When you were led inside, nostalgia was the last thing you felt as you peered over your mother’s shoulder. All the Targaryen heraldry had been replaced, all with stars of the faith of the seven. You knew Alicent was quite religious but never had you thought she would dare such an insult. 

You could already hear the grumbles of Daemon in front of you, and you shared a look with Jace and Luke. You were all led to a more familiar place, the dining hall where you would share some food together at the start of the afternoon. You were glad when your place was between your brothers, it felt safer. A buffer of sorts. 

Servants filed in with various fruits, wines, breads and spreads for you to indulge in and it became a little less tense when there was some food to chew on. Since you had grown quite the appetite from the horrendous voyage here, you gathered some of your favourites on your plate and shared some quiet conversation with Jace and Luke.

It was better to keep them distracted and apart from Aemond, who sat at the other end. After a while, Alicent rose from her seat, cup in hand. “I wish to give a toast, to the Princess Rhaenyra. The circumstances of which we have gathered here are grim, but nevertheless it is a pleasure to receive you, and your family. To the princess.” She uttered, a bit too appropriate. 

Everyone raised their cups and took a sip, it was all very stale and tense. But you could tell that especially Aegon and Aemond tried to keep as quiet and ‘nice’ as possible. Helaena seemed almost out of it and Otto kept to himself. It was just Alicent who engaged in some polite conversation with your mother and Daemon, but always about the king.

It was quite dreadful, but when everyone seemed finished, the children were excused to explore their old home and get accustomed again, while the adults went to pay a visit to the king. Your heart rose when you realised there would only be guards around to keep an eye on you and your brothers.

Your mother and most importantly Daemon wouldn’t be able to defend you now, if anything happened. Both of your brothers joined your side as you strolled through the halls of the Red Keep. “Luke, I probably don’t have to say this but still, just- watch your back. He probably won’t try anything but I saw the way he looked at us, at you.” You whispered to your right. You noticed the way Luke’s shoulders tensed but he simply nodded. 

“Will you join us in the training yard?” Jace asked, a bit too chirpy. “Maybe I’ll visit you later, I need some air in the gardens, at least I can be certain I won’t bump into our uncles there.” He gave you a soft smile and then took off with Luke to the yard beyond the doors, two guards following them outside.

“Shall I escort you princess?” Ser Erryk asked, joining your side. “Has my mother asked you to keep an eye on me Ser?” He gave you an awkward smile. “Yes princess,” his next words fell to a whisper, “it would be safer.” You only gave him a nod and he stepped back a pace, making sure you still had your own space.

When you stepped outside, the sun had finally made an appearance. A quiet sigh left your lips and the smell of flowers and various plants filled your nose. It was almost the only place left untouched by Alicent and her stars. You strolled through the gardens, took in all the flowers and birds. Even the beautiful butterflies that were almost magically flying around.

A while later you stumbled across a bright ladybug resting on the leaf of a bush. You admired it for a while, having no idea someone was also admiring you... 

Aemond’s POV

He was quite grateful the strong bastards kept to themselves. As soon as he had entered the training yard, in search of Criston Cole, the both of them left as soon as they caught sight of the common louts admiring the training weapons. Only a brief look was shared and Cole joined him to turn back inside. 

“It is an insult to us, their presence alone. I can come to terms with the fact they live in my ancestors castle far away from us, but them being here now-” Aemond got cut off by Cole. “It is repulsive, them being here. But the best we can do is keep our distance, only look in their direction or even speak to them when absolutely necessary.” 

Aemond nodded, “Fucking mongrels, the girl is lucky to have silver hair or they would have her head the second her arse sat on the throne. But who knows, after my sister is dead, what will become of my niece?” He smirked, before turning towards his own chambers. His only place of safety and solitude.

Only he got distracted when he passed a window that overlooked the gardens. There she was, the lucky girl. To Aemond’s displeasure, she looked almost ethereal. The now softened wind breezing through her long silver curls, the sun making her hair almost glow. Her purple eyes inspecting a nearby bug or butterfly he would imagine. 

What made his mouth turn even more sour was where his eye almost naturally shifted to. Her body. She had rather matured and was only two years younger than him, her body now...more grown. Beautiful hips, tits that bulged slightly out of the top of her bodice. Long fingers adorned with rings, a necklace resting on her chest. 

He scolded himself for even stopping in his tracks in the first place. Her Valyrian features linger in his mind as he resumes to his chambers. Once there he tried to distract himself with some studying. He could hardly focus on the words, when her tits kept reappearing in his mind. Then it only got worse, his mind drifted off while he sat at his desk. 

Cock swelling alive at the thought of ripping that gown off her, her nipples would harden through her shift because of the breeze, her curves on better display through her smallclothes. But he would rip that off too, display her nakedness for all to see. Then he would get her on her knees, mouth open, tongue out and ready for him.

His cock was now pulsing, the outline of it extremely visible through his pants. He swiftly undid them and already found that precum stained his breeches. He palmed his cock and hissed at the sensitivity, he loved to wait a longer period between pleasuring himself, knowing that the sensation would be far better.

Even though he wanted to wait just one more day, he couldn’t help himself; he was way too aroused. He started to softly tug the skin over the head of his cock, face contorted in pleasure, a grunt left his lips. Fuck it felt good. He didn’t care what anyone would think, all that filled his mind was his pretty little niece.

Seven hells, the way she would gag and tear up around his cock as he fucked his cock in her mouth. Not giving a shit that they’d be out in public, gods she would probably touch herself too, the little whore she is. He could imagine it all too well, the way her tongue would glide over his sensitive skin. Would she know to lick his slit? Suck on his balls to give him even more pleasure? Even if she did not, he would teach her, corrupt her.

He could feel himself get closer and closer, tugging on his cock faster, his loud breathing filled his chambers, his groans bouncing off the walls. He moved his free hand to massage his stones, a whine leaving his lips at the added stimulation. Imagining it was her. With only a couple more tugs and firmer fondles on his balls, ropes of cum painted his thighs, hands and some on the cold stone floor.

He jerked himself a bit more, to fully empty his satiated balls until he got too sensitive, before fetching a rag to clean his hands and the floor up. Opting for a change of pants either way. Then an idea came to his mind, a sick and disgusting idea. He grabbed his cum covered pants and rolled them up to disguise the item.

He knew exactly what chamber she resided in, it was one of the chambers that was connected to the secluded and utmost secretive halls that Maegor created. And so he moved one of the books in the library, almost no one remained in the halls as it was already close to supper so he had free reign. 

The book allowed for a door to open, hidden as just another bookshelf and Aemond stepped inside, even just the thought of what he was about to do made excitement fill his chest. He used the torch he fetched off one off the walls in the hallways to navigate the dark secret corridors. 

His cum soiled pants still clutched tightly in his hands as he let the flame guide him, soon enough he was certain he had reached the right wall. He opened the small wooden door and entered a small and short hallway, a wooden screen blocking his way, but he discovered he could open it slightly and peer inside, only to be met with a thinner tapestry. 

And pleasantly sensed he could see through the fabric art that hung inside her chamber, and as if the gods had willed it so, she was still out. Her bed was on the opposite side of the room and his mind only filled with more perverted ideas as he realised he could watch her here at night. A new pastime he could enjoy, and she would have no idea.

Placing the torch in an empty holder in the small hallway. He moved the screen and tapestry to the side and strolled over to her bed. He could feel his cock swell alive again as he placed his pants on her bed, not fully spreading it out yet. He wanted to watch her unfold them, and question what the stickiness on it was.

Satisfied with his work, he was certain she must return soon to freshen up before supper. He knew ladies always did. So he left her chambers and waited for her behind the slightly ajar wooden screen, making sure the tapestry covered it again. His perfect little hiding spot. It seemed as if hours passed yet it was only about twenty minutes when the door opened and she entered.

Your POV

“Would you need the help of a handmaiden, your grace?” Ser Erryk politely asked. You shook your head, “That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’ll be quick.” He nodded curtly and closed the door of your chamber behind you. You walked over to the vanity against the wall and found that your household had already unpacked your jewelry, you wanted to change your earrings and necklace for a nicer pair and then would head right to supper. 

When you had finished changing them out, you felt a weird sensation. You peered around the room but of course no one was there, right? You blamed the long morning for your weird feelings but then spotted something on your bed. Has one of the servants readied something for you? You walked over to your bed to find out what it was.

It was a black fabric, leather, and looked like what seemed to be pants. Your face twisted in confusion and grabbed it to unfold them and confirm your suspicion. Further confusion washed over your face as the pants were not only for men but they were dirty. Was this some twisted joke? 

You quickly let go of it and it fell to the floor, you thought of fetching a maid to get it out but then thought against it. What if they thought you had a man in here and your innocence was ruined? It was too big a risk, then your eyes shifted to the fireplace. Filled with disgust you grabbed the leather pants by the end of the leg and dragged it to the flames, throwing in the pants.

The room filled with an uncomfortable smell of the charring leather and you hurriedly went outside, Ser Erryk trailing behind you as you made your way to the dining hall.

Aemond’s POV

His hand undid the laces of his pants as he watched you eye the black material with caution. Palming his cock as you now dropped it to the floor with disgust. His lips fell agape as he tugged on his cock, feeling more aroused and sensitive than ever before. Fuck it felt even better then the very first time he mastrubated. 

He felt his release near when you had thrown the soiled pants in the fire, the smell of burning leather somehow turning him on even more. He stifled his groans with his mouth as he jerked himself to release, his cum painted the floor and his hand, as he was careful not to stain his clean pants this time. 

He cleaned his hand up with his own mouth and left the floor for what it was. He moved his now soft cock back in his breeches. Lacing his pants up again, he started his walk to one of the hallways of the Red Keep, he kept his ear to the unassuming door and heard nothing. He found the small servants hallway empty and quickly made his way to the dining hall.

Your POV

Heads raised as Aemond walked in, a soft satisfied smile on his face. “You're late.” Otto spoke. “I had matters to attend to.” He replied coldly before taking his seat. You avoided his gaze as you could feel it on you and continued picking at the rabbit meat before you. The sticky pants had never left your mind.

Supper was not so much different from your shared meal earlier, still polite conversations and the table almost split in half. But this time your eyes kept glancing back at Aemond. Why was he so content all of a sudden? Maybe he just had a good training in the yard with Cole, as you heard they spent a lot of time training together.

You decide to ignore it and finish the remainder of your meal, before long you were excused once again, and this time decided to head straight to your chambers. A bath and a good book afterwards would calm you. And so it did, after a nice hot bath and slipping into a fresh clean nightgown, you had read a bit of your new found book and lulled into a deep sleep, but still Aemond’s eye felt like it never left you.

The following days were filled with garden visits, sowing work with Helaena and some other ladies of court and avoiding your 'green' family at all costs. But much to your surprise it seemed Alicent and your mother got along pretty well, which could only be bad for you. 

Happy memories of King’s Landing never left your mind at the cold and stormy island of Dragon Stone, but now you missed it and you missed your dragon. So on the fourth day after your arrival, you headed to the dragonpit along with Jace and Luke. You felt like you could stay on dragonback forever, with your brothers flying close to you but the sun was setting and it was time to head back.

After a meal shared with just your brothers as the three of you were too late for supper, you found yourself back in your chambers. But not without some entertainment, one of the ladies of court was a pleasant company, and you felt relief wash over you as her laughter and humorous jokes fell on your ears. 

You were the same age and shared similar personalities, her father was a member of the small council and so she had the pleasure of the Red Keep’s walls protecting her, as well as learning all the gossip and the secrets, which she gladly shares with you. And so she shared all she knew, of how horrible a marriage Helaena and Aegon had, how their children were so unhappy and of putting. 

But then she said something that really caught your attention. “I heard one of the maids the other day, she said she was certain she could hear prince Aemond, well- how do I put this, having… fun? With himself? If you catch my meaning.” She giggled. Your mouth fell open and a loud laugh left you. 

“I do catch your meaning!” You laughed, she couldn’t help but laugh too. You couldn’t believe it, you never knew men did that too. Your knowledge went as far as that they used whores when they had urges. You thought only women did it, since many men didn’t care about women’s pleasure. 

She filled you in on much and more, about how many were certain Aegon has a thing for unflowering maidens and how Larys Clubfoot had an obsession with feet. Much to your dismay, it had grown late and she sadly had to go to her own chambers. As you said your goodbyes, you couldn’t help but feel it again. Like someone was watching you. 

You shook off the feeling and called for your handmaiden to ready you for bed. She took down your hair from your beautiful braids that day, helped you undress and bathe. Then she waved your hair in a single braid and helped you into your nightgown. When she left, you slipped into bed, however tonight, sleep could not find you.

You went over the day, as you usually did when you couldn’t sleep. But your mind kept hanging on to what your new friend said, Aemond pleasuring himself. You tried to think back on your flight today but you couldn’t help it. Why was the thought so erotic to you? You shouldn’t think about your uncle this way but still, your hand snaked down between your thighs.

Your cunt throbbed with desire, and you lifted your ass a bit to lift up your nightgown, as it was a hotter day, you had nothing underneath. Your fingers caressed your folds and you couldn’t help the whimper falling from your lips. But it wasn’t enough, you craved more. Then something occurred to you, you shoved the blankets off you and grabbed your pillow. 

You knelt on the bed and placed the pillow between your thighs, nerves flowing through you as well as excitement. When you thought the pillow was well placed on the long side of it, you sank down on it and leaned forward a bit. When you felt the position was good, you experimentally grinded your clit against it.

An uncontrollable moan left your lips and you hoped Ser Erryk hadn’t heard anything, you stilled for a moment but nothing happened, so you resumed. You rolled your hips against the pillow again and you allowed for soft whines to leave your lips. The rough but soft enough fabric against your clit had your mind dazed.

You humped the pillow like a bunny in heat, your clit getting the perfect stimulation from your pillow. Soft moans left you as you chased your release and you couldn’t help but imagine your dear uncle. So you let it consume you and let your desire for him flow through you. It made you burn with arousal and you imagined you were humping his lap instead. 

It didn’t take long for your peak to overcome you, and you frantically humped the pillow as you were near. The bed creaked with your wild movements and you couldn’t help but moan his name, you were so so close. With a louder whine of ‘Aemond, I’m cumming uncle!’ Your orgasm exploded and your thighs clenched the pillow between them hard. And with a few more grinds, you let yourself fall to your side, mind completely fogged and in bliss.

Then a loud scratch of wood on stone, pulled you out of your daze. You gasped and quickly pulled your blankets over yourself to cover your nakedness. Your eyes were met with Aemond’s single one as he emerged from behind the screen, he walked over to the foot of your bed.

“W-what are you doing here? Get out, at once, get out.” You stammered. But he just smiled. “Is that what you wish? I could give you far more pleasure than your pillow ever could niece.” Your face fell at his words and you held your breath as he came over to the side of your bed. “I heard what you and your little friend talked about, and I bet that it turned you on, didn’t it.” 

It was hard to deny since you just came with his name on your lips but you couldn’t speak. Frozen in shock. “Hm. Don’t worry, I think about you too, when I’m having fun with myself.” He smiled. Realisation dawned on your face. “The pants.” Aemond grinned. “A little gift from me, did you like it?”

You couldn’t help but feel wet at the thought that they were from him, but you quickly reprimanded yourself. It was wrong, not only him being here but everything about this was wrong. “Oh come on, you moaned my name so sweetly just now. Don’t you want your Kepus to actually pleasure you?” You could only shake your head. 

“Aemond- no, no it’s wrong. We can’t.” He chuckled in response. “Are we going to ignore that your mother is married to her uncle? So how is it wrong? You are mine. And I will have you.” He then raised his knee and climbed on your bed, but you made no move to run from him. Too excited to see what he would do next. “I see you are staying put, you can say no all you want, but I know how much you want me, as much as I want you.” 

“Ivestragon nyke, gaomagon ao gīmigon īlva muña ēngos?” Tell me, do you know our mother tongue? You nodded, “Gaoman Kepus.” I do uncle. “Sȳz riña.” Good girl. Aemond smiled. Then his hand moved to the edge of your blanket which you were still using to cover yourself. He pulled it off you and let his eye roam over your naked form.

“Fuck.” He whispered, he was already wet in his pants due to the amount of precum that leaked out of him at the sight of your humping, but now he couldn’t wait. “Gaomagon ao pendagon kostā gūrogon nyke? Kostagon mazemā aōha Kepus?” Do you think you can take me? Can you take your uncle? You knew the weight of his words but desire and lust clouded your senses, your will to refuse.

“Kessa, Nyke jorrāelagon ao sīr olvie Kepus.” Yes, I need you so much uncle. He hurriedly unlaced his pants at your words and took his cock from his breeches, stroking himself at the sight of your tits. But he was a gentleman and wouldn’t treat you like a whore. So he fully undressed, and crawled on top of you. 

“Vūjigon nyke tala.” Kiss me niece. You lifted your head to meet his lips, you gave him a peck but that did not satisfy him, he pulled you back and kissed you with greed. His lips harshly moving against you, his hand then massaged your breast, making you gasp against his lips. Then his tongue invaded your mouth.

His hand moved to your cunt and he let his finger inside. He let go of your lips so that the both of you could catch your breath. “Still wet for me aren’t you, so warm and slick.” He groaned, retreating his finger to grab the base of his cock instead. “Kostilus Kepus.” Please uncle. 

He had mercy, and let the tip of his cock glide through your folds, before carefully prodding in his tip. He moved just the tip in and out of you for a while, letting you get accustomed to the new sensation. But you were never one for patience. “Sepār gūrogon nyke Kepus, gūrogon nyke. Mazverdagon nyke aōhon” Just take me uncle, take me. Make me yours. 

He shuddered at your words, and let his length fully sheath inside of you, the both of you moaning at the stretch and tightness. When he noticed you weren’t in much pain he began to move, rubbing your pearl as he thrusted up into you. You bit your lip to keep as quiet as possible, but the way you uncle was fucking you, made that quite hard.

He groaned and moaned shamelessly. The squelching of your shared juices and the creaking of your bed enveloping your chamber. Soon he sped up his movements and his balls slapped loudly against your ass. Only adding to the sensation. “Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuhon, leghagon ao, mazverdagon aōha iemny hōzigon.” I will make you mine, fill you, make your belly swell. 

You finally audibly moaned at his words and it earned you a groan from him. Your uncle was filling you up so good, who could blame you? His cock pounding into you as he rubbed your sensitive clit made you actually see stars as you squeezed your eyes shut. And for the second time tonight, you moaned his name. Your tight walls clenching around his cock making him pant louder and roll his eye back.

He didn’t stop as you came down from your peak, grinding his hips fiercely against you when he cried out your name, his warm seed filling you. He humped his high out a bit and made sure to fully empty himself. When he had calmed too, he removed his now soft cock out of you, making you wince. “Gaomagon daor zūgagon, kesā daor jikagon arlī naejot Dragon Stone.” Do not fear, you will not go back to Dragon Stone.

[multific]

Of Lit Fire and Silk Sheets

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond arrives back to his room late at night, when you are already long asleep.

When Aemond came into your shared bedroom it was already very late.

His duties as Prince kept him up almost all day, barely allowing him to take a break or even eat.

Aemond let out a long sigh as he took off his jacket.

The fireplace in his room was lit, illuminating the room.

On his bed, you slept.

You, his beautiful wife.

Aemond stopped by the end of the bed and looked at you. He has seen you sleeping plenty of times, but he was always right next to you, or he was too tired and went to sleep immediately as he got back. 

But now, even if he was tired, he still took a moment to just stop and look at you.

You looked breathtaking, the warm light from the fire illuminated your face and shoulder as you slept on your side, facing his empty side. Your arm reaching towards his side, trying to find him but failing.

Aemond allowed a small smile to form.

Oh, how you both hated the idea of being married, and yet here you both were, completely and undeniably in love. 

Aemond could still recall the moment your eyes turned from hatred to the soft look that you now have for him.

He could also recall the moment he realized he was in love with you when a Lord dared to speak ill of you and as a result, lost his head.

Aemond takes no chances when it comes to you, his wife.

He believes it is his duty to fully protect you from anything. Let that be his own family, a few lords with choice words or even himself.

Aemond takes no chances, much like a predator, he prefers to act first and think next.

He didn't use to be like that.

He was always very calculated, just not when it came to you.

Love, as they say, is a stronger force than anything, greater than fear or even dragons.

You stirred slightly in your sleep and Aemond moved. Removing his clothes and putting on the comfortable pants and shirt he preferred to sleep in, he quickly moved back to you and laid down.

His muscles relaxed against the silk sheets and comfortable pillows.

He wanted to pull you closer, but he was afraid to wake you.

Aemond just laid there, watching you sleep as he contemplated his next move. He knew he would not be able to sleep fully without having you in his arms or have you closer.

But he didn't have to, you instinctively still asleep, moved closer to him, placing your hand on his chest as you continued to sleep. 

Aemond let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. He felt you moving beside him as you soon placed your head on his chest, got comfortable under the covers and fell right back to sleep.

His hand moved to find yours on his chest as he fell asleep.

Not even the howling wind outside would hurt you, he will make sure of it.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @brascaris

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[agathaswoman]

modern!daemon & aemond hating each other

daemon, to aemond: one universe, nine planets, seven seas, seven continents, and i had the unfortunate luck of meeting you in this life

y/n: hey, that’s not very nice–

aemond: there are only eight planets, you uncultured swine!

y/n: woah! no need to be so damn personal, aemond!

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪꜱ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ-ᴡɪꜰᴇ!, ʜᴇʟᴀᴇɴᴀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: SEASON 2 POILERS!! Targ!cest, death of a child, reader is sobber for once, mentions of infidelities, brothels, poor Helaena, comfort from reader, Alicent being a horrible mother, reader and Alicent slap each other, funeral scene, mentions of nudity (if you know, you know), angst with a bit of comfort towards the end.

A/N: Ima start writing again, but before I wanted to write a HOTD fic before going back to writing for the Human Ape Series. Hope ya'll like it.

Masterlist

Ever since Aemond had killed Lucerys Velaryon things had changed. You and him had become distant. You barely talked or even looked each other in the eye. He began going to the brothels and warming the bed of the woman who had 'made him a man'. You hated it. Since then, you've drink day and night, always drunk. Not wanting to be aware of anything. You envied Helaena at times. Wishing your have that innocent oblivion that she was on twenty four seven. You thought life was good, but no. Ever since your sister declared war, everything was no longer the same.

That night, you had sneaked out as many times as you did. Went to the tavern and got drunk off your ass. Till the point of passing out. Hours later, you went back to the castle. Tired, and a growing headache. When you got to your chamber, you saw that it was empty. Aemond must have gone to that wrinkly old whore. You stumbled over and landed on the bed. As soon as you closed your eyes, you fell asleep.

You didn't know how long you've been asleep. You were startled awake by the door being opened. You groaned, sitting up to see who it was. You thought it was your mother, but you saw that it was Helaena. With your niece in her arms. She seemed panicked and confused. You quickly went over and in a corner, holding her child close to her. "Helaena? What's wrong?" You asked, sitting up still trying to wake up. "They killed the boy.." She said, calmly. But you could hear the panic in her voice. You were confused. Not sure on what to do. Despite that, you got up and walked towards her. Getting on your knees, seen the tears threatening to spill from her eyes and the look of her horror in them.

As much as Helaena wasn't a fan of being touched, you couldn't help but wrap your arms around her and your niece. Hugging them close to you. You could feel her panicked breathing against you, as you hugged her. You softly held her and stroked her hair as form of comfort. "It's okay, It'll be okay." You tried to comfort both her and her niece.

The next day, you found out what happened. The rat catcher and his partner had killed her son. Right in front of her. You learned from Helaena that she was the one who told them who the boy was. It must have been horrible for her, specially for her. Everyone believed that Rhaenyra was responsible. They believed that she must have sent someone to kill a child. It made no sense to you. You doubted it was her who'd ask for such horrible act to be done to a child. Specially since she's lost not one but two of her children.

That morning, you had not touched a goblet of wine at all. Just smelling made you sick to your stomach for some odd reason. You resorted into just drinking water that whole time. You were conflicted, not sure on what to say or do. Helaena was devastated and so was your brother Aegon. When Aemond heard of the news, he left. Most likely back to the brothel. To search for his comfort.

You went to check on Helaena, to see how she was doing. When you got close to her room, you couldn't help but hear what Alicent was telling Helaena. "Heleana, what you saw last night when you came into my room-" Alicent was cut off by Helaena who shoved something into her arms. 'This is for my boy." She said, turning away from her and walking away. You stepped, locking eyes with Alicent. You could see the guilt in her eyes. She wasn't trying to comfort her daughter, she was trying to explain to her of something she saw in her room.

You then snatched the bundle of fabrics from Alicent in an aggressive manner. "Get out." You hissed at Alicent, before she could protest you shouted at her. "Out!" You shouted, making Helaena cover hear ears in discomfort. Finally, Alicent had left. Leaving you and your sister alone in her room. "Sorry for yelling." You apologized to her, walking up to her. As she picked up the small toys that belonged to her son in her hands. You couldn't help but look at the bundle of green in your hands. Seen that it was a blanket She had made for her son. It was beautiful.

When you got closer, you didn't know what to say or do. You noticed her Helaena's head was filled with many thoughts. Many stressful thoughts and had no idea what to say or do. You wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry.." You whispered to her. She then turned to face and hugged you tightly. This was something that surprised you. Helaena was not a fan of hugging or being touched, until now. You didn't hesitate in hugging her back. Softly stroking her back, you could feel how her tears began to pour into your shoulder.

She'd began to cry hard against your shoulder. All you did was hold her and allow her to cry onto you hard. Your poor sister, the one who never anything wrong, was the one to pay for your husband's doing.

After a while, you had left Helaena with one of the maid, to make surer she didn't do anything to harm herself in any way. You went to find your mother, who was in her chambers with Sir Criston Cole. When you stepped in, you noticed how he stood up straight as your mother remained seated on her bed, in tears. "Leave us." You told him, he looked at Alicent, which gave him the nod to leave.

Now it was just you and the woman you called mother. "So what happened." You asked her. "Your nephew-" She tried to explain, but you cut her off. "I already know that, what I am asking is. What happened in your room that Helaena wasn't suppose to see?" You asked her again. Alicent had a look of guilt on her face. The same one she had when she was talking to your sister. "It was... It was nothing." She said, making you grow even more suspecious.

"Nothing happened. Yet, instead of consoling your daughter who had witnessed her son getting killed. You were trying to tell her something that happened in your room." You said, making Alicent even more nervous. It got quiet, but you added another sentence. "You know, what I find odd?" You asked, making Alicent look at you. "How there was no guards in the halls, not even Sir Criston Cole was in the halls, guarding like he is suppose to." You said. The guilt was eating Alicent up, you knew you had struck something inside her.

"So, what's that 'nothing' that happened?" you asked her again, you had gone close to her, face to face. You looked down at her, seen her look of horror in her eyes. "Me and Sir Criston.. were. Doing things." She choked up. "Things? What kind of things? Where they that important that you had to do at night?" You asked, clearly pressuring her into telling you more. "We were fucking!" she finally said, almost in fear. All you did was nodded and backed away from her. "You and your sworn sword, were fucking. While your grandson was getting-" Before you could finish, you were cut off.

"Stop it!" She demanded, getting up from her bed and getting close to you. "You don't get to say anything or judge me, while you sneak out into the night and get drunk!" She hissed, making you laugh. "Well, I'm not the one hiding any secrets. Everyone knows that I'm a fucking drunk. Unlike you, I don't have anything you fucking hide." You hissed at her. "Unlike you. Who wants to keep an image and show everyone how perfect you are. You're nothing but a whore, a horrible mother!" You accused, then you felt a sting on your cheek. Alicent had hit right on the cheek. You touched your now red cheek and looked at her. She was breathing heavily, shocked that she had put her hands on you.

Without hesitation, you slapped her right back. You watched as she stumbled back. Giving you a look of shock, as she held her cheek trying to sooth the pain on her cheek. "You really are the worst." You simply said, then you stomped out of her room.

Later that day, things only got worse. Alicent insisted in Helaena and Aegon's son to be dragged down a cart in the city, with you her and poor Helaena. Even though the grieving mother had insisted that she didn't want the citizens close to her. She didn't know them, she didn't care about keeping an image. She only wanted to be alone and grieve in her own way. But no, like always. It had to go Alicent's way.

You wore an all black dress, with a small crown on your head, which had a thin black veil that covered your whole head and face. You sat on Helaena's right and Alicent on her left. While she sat in the middle. The sky was covered with grey clouds, as if. The gods knew about the death of your nephew. The streets and building were crowded with the citizens. They felt for the queen's pain, they chanted their condolences and threw seeds towards the three of you and onto Jaehaerys's body.

Everything felt overwhelming. All eyes were on you three, specially on Helaena. It made her uneasy, you could feel her shifting on her seat. You reached down to hold her hand, as a way to ease her nerves a bit, but that didn't help. She attempted to get up, but she was stopped by Alicent, only making her even more anxious. Helaena's breathing quickened and her movements became more frantic. It didn't help that the wagon which held Jaehaerys seemed to have got stuck. The guards attempted to move the cart, but it was too difficult. The pushing and shaking caused Jaehaerys to move violently. That was what did it for Helaena. She needed and wanted to get out of there.

You quickly got up from the wagon and took Helaena's hand, without hesitation she followed you. Alicent was right behind us, trying to get us to stop by trying to grab Helaena, but she couldn't since you and her were both running away from all that chaos happening in the street.

Finally, you and your sister had got to the castle, you both slightly calmer, but you could still see Helaena's panicked state. you continued to hold her hand, as you walked up the stairs. As you walked up the steps, you saw Aegon, coming out of hall with a few men behind him. You, him and you sister locked eyes with each other. But didn't say a word, Aegon went on his way. So did you and Helaena, quickly, you both walked back up the stairs, into Helaena's room.

That night, you were finally in your private chambers. You were with Helaena all evening until she fell asleep. You wanted stay with her, but you also gave her space. You were still wearing the black dress and the small crown on your head. You sat in your bed, trying to process what happened today. It was complete chaos, specially for your poor sister. Who had suffered enough, yet, your mother still pushed for your sister to make a public appearance. Despite he protest.

You reached up and took off the crown from your head, placing it on the bed. You had no idea what to do, or say. A lot had happened the last few weeks. If only you could do something, but what could you do? Nothing, you couldn't do anything. You felt helpless, if only youo haven't left that night, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Jaehaerys would be alive or the men responsible would serve justice.

While you remained in your train of thought, you heard your door open. Having you snap back into reality. You turned to see who it was. Your husband, except. He was naked, the only thing that covered him was a black cloak. Without warning, he had the rob fall down and pull at his feet, revealing himself to you. You didn't say anything, you simply stared then looked away. "So, you remembered you had a home?" You asked, while looking at the fire burning in the fire place. You felt him sitting behind you on the bed, you could feel his body heat near you.

"I'm surprised to see you here. You must have also remembered you had a home too." He said, implying about you'd spent endless nights back at the tavern. It made you roll your eyes but it was true. It was silent for a whole minute, silence felt like an eternity. Until Aemond finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry." He simply said, it sounded genuine. This had been the first time, in a few weeks that you had spoken to him. You as much as you wanted to be mad at him for being gone and being in the arms of his abuser, you couldn't. You understood why he'd had gone to find comfort in her arms and not yours. It was part of his trauma.

Just like you, you'd find comfort in drinking until you dropped, Aegon would find his comfort in sex and drinking. As for Helaena. She found her comfort in the many bugs that she'd collect and keep. Daeron? You wouldn't know, it's been years since you've seen him. He must have his own form comfort. You were all damaged, ever since you were kids.

You turned and looked at Aemond. Seen that he did not have his eyepatch on like he usually did. You both just stared at each other for a moment. Until you finally spoke. "I forgive you." You responded, while you and him still kept your gazes looked. It gone silent again, then you watched as Aemond leaned close to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. You then wrapped your arms around his naked waist, also hugging him close to you. It felt like a decade being this close to him. It felt nice, having him back, even if it was for a little while.

[xeno1queen]

Growing Strong With The Dragon - Part I

Aemond Targareyen x Tyrell!Reader Summary: A lonely princess finds herself betrothed to a cold prince. Warnings: No warnings, just a chill introduction. No character description. Afab. Authors Note: First time writing a fanfic so I’m just putting into words the things I’ve been thinking. Don't really care about "historical" inaccuracies. English is not my first language so the grammar might be a bit janked.

You have been alone most of your life, your only company being your ladies in waiting and your mother. You had a brother and a dad, but both of them seemed to have no interest in you.

You much prefer the company of books and nature in the Highgarden gardens.

You've heard the news in the capital and you're wondering which side your father will choose as the lord of Highgarden. You don't really care which side he picks, as you are not told much about the war because "Ladies should not worry their heads about unfit matters," said your father, but you do indeed worry.

A couple of days had passed since you first heard the news of the war, and the Greens were already looking for allies. They placed that task on the shoulders of their only unmarried heir. A bold choice, but no one would dare touch the prince in the presence of his dragon. The prince has already gone to Storm's End in search of a betrothed, but the exchange ended badly with the killing of Prince Lucerys Valaryon.

His second option was going to Highgarden. Your father hasn't chosen a side yet, so a marriage proposal to such an important family could help in his decision.

Within two days, the prince arrived at your doorstep. Your lavish father decided that he was to be welcomed with a feast, even though it was just meant to be a quick trip to ask for your hand in marriage. Your father spared no expense at the visit of such an important prince. He wasn't afraid to show the power of House Tyrell, owning the most fertile fields in Westeros means lots of money for your family.

During the feast, the prince was not really impressed by the food, as during the reign of his father, the banquets were not few. However, he sure was impressed by how you behaved yourself.

You’ve always been shy. During the whole banquet, you could mostly only look at your plate and, the few times you looked at him, you noticed he was already looking at you, which made you flinch and blush.

While feasting, your father and the prince talked about war and his marriage proposal, which of course your father accepted swiftly. Having his daughter marry the most powerful family in Westeros was a blessing to him, even if it came with the condition of having to send his men to die in a war they shouldn’t be participating in.

You know you were only getting married to the prince for political reasons, yet you wondered if such a beautiful man could eventually fall for you. You weren’t ugly yourself, just a bit “socially awkward,” yet he didn’t look at you with disgust. He looked at you with intrigue.

Once the banquet was finished, Prince Aemond locked eyes with you and returned to King's Landing. You felt like stone after that intense eye contact, as if his only eye had turned you into a statue.

That night, you felt all the anxiety from the feast hit you, and the anticipation of a long journey to marry the most beautiful man in Westeros made you lay sleepless all night. Would he be kind? Or would he be a cold monster who would only use you to make heirs? Those questions did not leave your mind all night. You just hoped he wouldn’t treat you badly.

[frost-queen]

Dance of the dragons series

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳..˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳..˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳..˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳..˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.

Aemond Targaryen x Assasin!reader

🐉 Revenge tastes sweet

🐉 Remember the oath

🐉 part 3 (to be named)

[vermithorn]

* DITTO

pairing: aemond targaryen, aegon ii targaryen x betrothed!fem!reader

summary: aegon is planning something, aemond will get to the end of it.

contains: 18+, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, cursing.

author’s note: okay this was going to be a timestamp thingy but i had a little trouble keeping it short. enjoy!

aemond pants, but his hand quickly flies to his mouth stopping him from making any more sounds that can expose him.

his older brother, that little shit, had left his door open, sending all the kingsguards away for some unknown reason. but aemond knew what aegon was planning, it was in plain sight when he gave aemond a knowing smirk at dinner, winking slightly at him while retiring to his chambers with his betrothed, you.

aemond was fuming inside, and something inside him snapped, following you both to aegon’s chambers. aemond saw how his brother commanded all the guards to leave, leaving his hall empty and how he smirked at you, grabbing your hand and entering his chambers, leaving the door slightly open. 

aemond waited for a few minutes before approaching the door, he didn’t wanted to get caught snooping around so he slowly walked towards it, and the first thing he heard was a loud groan, not from aegon. 

“fuck, just like that baby.”

it was the first time aemond heard you curse, it wasn’t proper of a highborn lady like you, but it got his mind running fast, and wanted to see what made you say it. he peeked through the open door and what he saw made his knees buckle. 

you were sprawled on aegon’s (king-sized) bed, a few pillows on your back while totally undressed, your hands on aegon’s white curls grabbing him tightly while he ate you out frantically, his hands on your thighs keeping you still against the bed mattress. 

aemond had to grab the door to keep himself from falling, keeping out of sight as best as he could. one of his hands wandered to his pants, stroking his bulge softly as it got harder with each second, straining against his briefs. 

the sight of you being harsh with aegon, pulling his hair tightly keeping him in place to continue the work was better than aemond could have ever imagined, your ragged breaths and the curses leaving your mouth were enough to make him slide his hand under his briefs and tug his cock equally as harsh as your hand on aegon’s hair, just to feel something. 

aegon seemed to doing a good job eating your cunt, because your breaths became erratic and his hands on your thighs were working overtime to keep you still.  

“yes baby, don’t stop.”

aemond stroked himself quick and hard, already wet enough from precum, trying to match the pace of aegon’s movements on your pussy, and how your body reacted to his licks and the very eager sucking he was doing on your clit, making you whine. 

you were close, that was clear. his hand working on himself inside his briefs was becoming sore, but he couldn’t stop, not when you were about to cum thanks to aegon’s mouth, that fucking mouth. 

aemond wanted to wait for you, he wanted to reach his peak with you, as if it was him giving you the pleasure you were experiencing, but not every plan worked for him as he came with a low groan, spilling his seed on his hand staining his briefs. 

you came with a loud moan a few seconds after, closing your eyes while your whole body shook from the orgasm, specially your thighs that were being hold down by aegon. aemond heard his brother giggle, still licking your sweet juices not wasting any of them as you slapped his head softly, playfully almost. 

aemond spent a few seconds catching his own breath, panting softly still in shock after watching you orgasm in front of him. he couldn’t move from the door, watching you laying on the bed while aegon cleaned you up. 

“enjoying the show?” he heard you say, aemond gulped. 

aemond’s heart rate increased instantly, his gaze coming back to the bed as you were watching him with a smirk, an eyebrow raised. 

aegon turned back to the door, also wearing a knowing smirk. “you should answer my betrothed, little brother.”

aemond’s jaw dropped, briefs cum-stained and heart running away from his own rib cage. 

“yes.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works

[athanza]

"Snowfall" - Part I

Fem!reader (from a non-canon, lesser known house) + Aemond Targaryen (romantic) + Rhaenyra Targaryen (platonic) + Damon Targaryen (platonic) + Helaena Targaryen (platonic)

Tags: Family drama, royal politics, romance, platonic fluff, angst, lots of tention (good and bad), protective Aemond, protective Rhaenyra, found family

Warnings: An attempted SA in part III, mentions of parent death during childbirth, parental abuse, canon violence, Aegon being a creep, a little bit of light smut later down the line but nothing too nsfw.

Summary: Elisana's father brings her with him to King's Landing when he's summoned by the Queen to discuss a rebellion in his territories. Her and Prince Aemond begin to fall for each other but family secrets begin to surface and it creates a tense situation between her house and house Targaryen.

I'm not super knowledgeable about the lore etc so bare with me on this one. Written in 3rd person. Enjoy! ♡

Part II | Part III | Part IV

When your father, Eris Denaron, told you that you were to accompany him to King's Landing you were excited at first, until you remembered what the princes were like when you were little; obnoxious and sometimes unbearable to be be around. You hoped they had matured since you saw them last, but one thing can be said about boys is that they take far too long to grow up.

"I need you to be on your best behaviour while we're in their company, Elisa." Said her father. "These are sensitive talks, and the last thing we need is another incident like the last time you were there."

"That was 9 years ago, father. I choose my battles far more carefully now than you give me credit for."

"That doesn't mean your temper has calmed." He sighed. "You are too much like your mother."

"I won't cause any trouble, you have my word."

His stern face gave away very little, but you could tell your words gave him some reassurance.

"I must make my way to the council chambers. Pay a visit to your cousins, make small talk. With any luck, by the end of this, I will have organised a betrothal."

He left swiftly, his navy velvet cloak trailing behind him.

She walked to the window and took a deep breath as she stared out over King's Landing, her long white-blonde locks dancing gently in the warm breeze. She considered wondering the castle she hadn't seen in nearly a decade, but then her eye fell on the training yard, and they gleamed with intrigue.

A small crowd had gathered around the centre of the yard, and two men fought swiftly with each other. One of the men she recognised as Ser Criston, head of the King's guard, and the other had long silver locks but she was unsure if it was Aegon or Aemond as she hadn't seen either since they were children.

The fighting lasted a while and Elisa weaved her way through the crowd until she came to the front. When she saw the eyepatch she immediately recognised the silver haired man as Prince Aemond. She was surprised, he seemed different from when they were children, he used to be far more quiet, shy almost, but now he fought with such confidence and grace he almost seemed like a different person.

He had grown quite handsome since last they met, tall too. A far cry from the little prince she remembered.

With only one more swift motion Aemond had Ser Criston defeated, sword to his throat as he stood tall and proud, barely out of breath. The crowd applauded and muttered amongst themselves as they began to slowly disperse.

He had spotted Elisa from across the yard and walked over.

"Lady Denaron." He acknowledged.

"Prince Aemond." She curtsied. "Are you up for another challenger?"

His eyes narrowed slightly in intrigue and he smirked as he gestured for ser Criston to give her his sword.

"I never refuse a challenge."

Ser Criston hesitated but obliged and handed you his broadsword, stepping back to give you enough room to fight.

She had learned the skill of the sword against her father's wishes but with her 3 elder brothers, she was damned if she had to sit out and instead learn some nonsense such as embroidery. She needed to fight and had become quite good at it. She was confident.

She held fast, she saw the prince's agility in his fight with ser Criston and knew he would be quick, and just as that thought entered her mind, he swung his blade.

She parried, gauging the force of the blow to figure out his strength. He was holding back, and that insulted her.

She returned with four forceful strikes, one high, two mid and one hard hit from the side, Aemond dodging or parrying every single one.

They circled each other for a moment and she touched her blade to his, staring him down.

"If you hold back any longer I'll cut off your hands."

"I would gain much enjoyment in seeing you try."

In a swift, fluid motion she flicked her sword and caught his jacket, leaving a long cut horizontally across the sleeve and she saw his eye flicker with flame.

Some of the crowd had returned and gathered around once again, watching intently as they had never seen the prince fight a woman skilled with the sword before.

He brought his sword down on her from above, then the side and she dodged, almost not fast enough for the second blow. He wasn't holding back anymore.

He came at her again and again and she jabbed, almost getting him but he still managed to block it.

This dance continued for only a few more minutes before Aemond sent her sword flying and placed his blade to her throat.

The crowd applauded once again.

He was trying to hide it but he was out of breath a little and she smiled knowingly, briefly glancing down at his blade.

"You've grown quite skilled."

"As have you." He replied.

His eye lingered on her for an extra moment before lowering his sword. She had grown quite beautiful since last they met and he couldn't help but notice, but he turned away and sheathed his blade as the last of the crowd left.

"I will see you tomorrow for more training." Said Ser Criston, taking his sword back from Elisa as she held it out for him, nodding politely to her.

"I believe you mean another defeat." Aemond retorted with a smirk.

Sir Criston scoffed as he sheathed his blade and walked away, leaving Elisa and the prince alone in the training yard.

"Where did you learn the blade?" He asked, reaching for a chalice from a servant boy who arrived with a small decanter filled with wine.

"My teacher is head of our guard, much like yours. He's taught me since I was nine."

"You were lucky to find a teacher willing to instruct a woman."

"Maybe so." She replied, then smiled. "I kept you on your toes though."

He looked at you sideways as he sipped his wine, and you saw the corner of his mouth curl.

"Maybe so." He replied.

"Elisana!" Came her father's voice from the top of the stairs.

Aemond noticed her smile twist into contempt as Lord Eris walked down and stopped in front of his daughter.

"I told you to behave yourself and the first thing you do is pick up a sword?"

"I wasn't aware having fun counted as misbehaving."

"I apologise for my daughter Prince Aemond, she has an untamable fire, not unlike her mother's." There was a condescending tone in his words that made her want to take the prince's sword and show him what a true opponent really was but restrained herself.

"There is no apology necessary Lord Denaron, I always welcome new apponants."

"I appreciate your understanding my Prince but there are better opponents than a woman."

Those words began to grow the same contempt from Elisana within Aemond and he took another sip of wine.

"Come Elisana."

She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from arguing with her father in front of the prince and curtsied politely. Aemond bowed his head in return before she was ushered away.

When they were out of sight and earshot of the the prince, her father turned and struck her across the face.

"How many times must I remind you of your place!" He hissed. "If I see a sword in your hand again I will use it on you, do you understand!"

She looked up at her father with a hatred that could not be measured as she held a hand to her face. "You have my word." She growled and her father stormed down the hallway, leaving her to hold back tears and try to gather herself before anyone could see her.

That night at dinner she was seated next to Helaena who was a pleasant change of company from her husband Aegon who was drunkenly speaking obscenities on her opposite side.

"Are you really a Denaron Lady Elisana?" He asked. "You don't have the colourings of one."

Aemond noticed her tense at the question as he had been watching her.

"My mother was blonde." She replied. "I take after her."

"Is that so?" Aegon swirled the wine in his cup as he looked her over. "Anyone would think you were a Targaryen with that hair."

"I wouldn't be so bold as to say so your highness."

"I like it!" Beamed Helaena. "It makes us look like sisters."

Elisa smiled at her, she had always gotten along with Helaena and had occasionally sent letters by raven since they were children. She was the only one who she had kept in contact with in the nine years since she was last in King's Landing.

"That is true." Said Alicent with a soft smile.

"Is it also true that you were caught fighting my brother in the training yard?" Helaena excitedly asked, a little tipsy from the wine she had been drinking.

"I had him on his toes the whole time." She whispered cheekily in reply.

Helaena giggled and Elisa smiled, she had always loved Helaena's strangeness. She was one of the few friends she had and she loved her dearly.

She didn't see Aemond's fond gaze from across the table as she laughed with his sister. He rarely saw her laughing like that, she was mostly quiet and a little withdrawn, especially when she was around Aegon.

Alicent also noticed her daughter laughing and smiled at seeing her so happy.

"Tell me, Lady Elisana, is it true you managed to give Aemond a challenge this afternoon in the training yard?" Asked Jacerys, gleefully leaping at the chance to mock his uncle.

"Is that how your shirt got damaged?" Lucerys snickered.

Elisa pursed her lips to attempt to hide her smile, knowing her father was glaring at her from the other end of the table.

"Perhaps one day you may give even a fraction of a challenge." Aemond retorted, retaining his usual expression, but she could see him clench his jaw, his eyes fixed despisingly on the brothers.

"Aemond." Said Alicent, giving a warning look from her place beside Rhaenyra, who gave the same look to her sons.

Jace and Luke cut it out but still exchanged glances at each other with stifled laughs.

"It is refreshing to see a woman with such skill with a blade." Said Rhaenyra. "I would like to see you fight while you're here."

"Perhaps not." Said Lord Eris, attempting to remain civil in the company of the Queen. "I'm sure there are more productive things for a woman to do than fight."

The air in the room immediately changed and the distain for Eris' comment was felt my most of the people in the room. Rhaenyra's expression said all it needed to as she shot a spiteful glance in his direction.

"If a woman can birth a child she can wield a sword." She said. "A wound from a blade is nothing compared to the pain of labors."

Elisana glanced nervously at Rhaenyra and then her father. She could feel his anger begin to rise and although she revelled in Rhaenyra's comment she knew she would be the one to take the repercussions of it later.

"Then why bother with it?" He replied.

"Father, please." Elisana pleaded quietly.

Aemond saw her face during this interaction and saw her anger towards her father and also her fear.

"Would you rather a woman die than be able to protect herself and her children?" Rhaenyra continued, snapping at him once again.

Elisa sat forward, a hand on the table. "Princess, let us change the subject."

Rhaenyra turned her head to her and saw her fear of her father and became even more enraged but stayed her comments.

"I think that's enough talk of this for one night." Said Alicent, standing up and smoothing out her skirts. "I shall retire to my chambers and I suggest you do the same, tomorrow's talks will be of great length."

"Of course, my Queen." Said Lord Eris almost behind gritted teeth.

A look of laboured relief appeared on Elisa's face and once the Queen had left she stood up and curtsied. "Excuse me." She said before leaving.

That night, Elisa sat in her chambers, worried that her father would burst in and set another 'example' and she was therefore unable to fully rest. She hadn't even yet changed into her night gown.

Her father always hated her for being a girl. He got his three heirs and had no need for her other than to wed her off in exchange for powerful connections.

Anger swelled in her gut day by day as she lived with him and she kept it down as best she could but one day she knew she would not be able to hold back and may kill the man without a thought of hesitation.

As she sat beside the fire, swirling a strand of silver hair around her finger there was a knock at the door and every muscle in her tensed. Though she realised her father wouldn't bother to knock and she turned to the door before getting up.

She opened it to reveal Aemond wearing a long black cloak with the hood up to hide his hair.

"Would you like an adventure?" He asked quietly, giving her playful smirk, one she hadn't seen since they were children.

He held up another cloak and Elisa smiled and put it on, looking both ways down the hall before they snuck out of the castle.

This is turning out to be way longer than I intended 😅😅 I hope you enjoyed part 1! Please like, comment and reblog! ♡

[asa-writes]

Dichotomy 04

“Anguish”

Aemond x F! OC / Jacaerys x F! OC - 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: period accurate gender stereotypes

It had been around two weeks since Maellys's and Maena's arrival at King's Landing. They had spent most of their time embroidering and reading - exactly what had been expected of them. Dinners had been a relatively boring affair. They had conversed with Princess Helaena and danced a bit, closely supervised by their guards, who followed them around.

The Queen - their patron and benefactor - had been busy with courtly duties, leaving them alone for the most part. Maellys had found herself spending more and more time praying in the sept, seeking comfort in her faith. Maena had tried to keep up her spirits, but she too was beginning to feel the weight of their situation, quietly watching the weather changing from a comfortable warmth that came from spring to the searing heat of summer.

One day, as they sat in the Great Hall at dinner, they overheard a group of young nobles talking amongst themselves. "Did you hear about Prince Aemond's betrothal?" one exclaimed. "He's going to be wed to Lady Maena Rivers!"

Maellys felt a flicker of panic in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral. She looked over at Maena, who was staring ahead with a blank expression on her face, her pale lips twitching slightly.

"I thought it was supposed to be Maellys," another noble said. "Although I wouldn't mind taking any of them. I mean, have you seen their hips and their breasts? Each could provide me with at least ten heirs." The group broke out in rowdy laughter.

"Well, it seems that Queen Alicent changed her mind," the first noble replied with a shrug. "I heard that Maena has been spending a lot of time with Aemond lately."

Maellys felt sick to her stomach as she listened to their gossiping. It was clear that they knew more about their fates than they did themselves. She could feel her sister's hand trembling slightly and placed her own comfortingly on top of it.

As soon as the nobles had left, Maena let out a shaky breath. "I don't want to marry him," she whispered. Tears had formed in her black eyes as she looked up at Maellys. "And you know that what they said isn't true, I just saw him a few times while practicing archery or in the library, I promise you, I'm not a whore... He hasn't even shown an ounce of interest in me...", she rambled, trying her best to keep her voice steady, quickly dabbing away the tears which flowed down her face.

Maellys squeezed her hand gently. "I know, calm down," she said softly. "But we have no choice."

Maena turned to look at her, tears glistening in her eyes. "But how can I accept this? To be married to a man just because our Queen decided it?" she asked, her voice breaking with emotion.

Maellys swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat. "I couldn't accept it," she said firmly. "But what choice do we have? We are not powerful enough to defy the Queen or her son. And we cannot stay here forever."

Maena looked down at her lap, her tears still falling, creating miserable spots on her simple gown. "I don't want to stay," she whispered. "And more importantly, I don't want you to go."

Maellys reached over and took her sister's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know," she said softly. "But we must be strong. We have each other and our faith to keep us going. The Seven shall guide us wisely."

Maena nodded slowly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "You're right," she said quietly. "We must be strong."

Maellys gave her a small smile, feeling a sense of determination settle in her chest. She knew that she couldn't abandon Maena at a time like this. She gave her a reassuring smile. "Listen, Maena, all will be well. I shall try to arrange something. Do you want to take a bath to calm your nerves?"

Maena nodded gratefully, her eyes still red from tears. "Yes, that sounds wonderful."

Maellys stood up and offered her hand to Maena, helping her up. They walked towards their chambers, Maena leaning heavily on her sister for support.

As soon as they entered their chambers, Maellys instructed their handmaidens to prepare a bath for Maena. She helped Maena undress and stepped out of the room to give her sister some privacy.

Once she was alone, Maellys sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. The weight of their situation felt crushing, suffocating. She hated feeling so helpless, so powerless. But she knew that she had to keep a level head and find a way out of this mess.

After a few moments, she stood up and told her guard that she would want to take some fresh air on the castle's ramparts. He nodded, grabbed a torch and guided her up. The air was warm and she could see a thunderstorm brewing in the distance. She sat down, looking up into the sky.

Her Guard cleared his throat. "Milady, Prince Aemond is coming." She glanced over at him, seeing his long silver hair swaying in the wind. She gave him a pained smile. "Maena?", he asked quietly, looking at the guard.

Maellys slowly shook her head and wrapped her shawl tighter over her dress. "No, your Highness, I'm Maellys." Prince Aemond approached her, his expression unreadable. "My apologies, Lady Maellys," he said, inclining his head. "I assumed you were Lady Maena."

Maellys forced a smile. "No need to apologize, Your Highness. I understand that we may look similar." She couldn't help but laugh. 'Indeed you cannot even seperate your betrothed from her sister', she thought bitterly.

"May I join you?" Aemond asked, gesturing towards the wall.

"Of course, Your Highness," Maellys replied, standing up and stepping away to make room for him.

They stood in silence for a few moments, looking out at the night sky, listening to the rumbling thunder. Finally, Aemond spoke. "I heard about the rumors circulating about me and your sister," he said quietly, pursing his lips.

Maellys felt her heart race in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral. "Yes, I overheard some nobles discussing it at dinner," she replied curtly.

Aemond sighed. "I had hoped to spare Lady Maena from this kind of speculation, but I suppose there is no avoiding it."

Maellys looked at him curiously, frowning. "Your Highness, if I may ask... why did you choose Lady Maena as your betrothed?"

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. "It was not entirely my choice," he admitted. "But I must admit that I have come to admire her spirit and her intelligence."

Maellys nodded thoughtfully. "Lady Maena is a remarkable person," she said softly. "I just hope that you will treat her with the respect that she deserves."

Aemond turned to look at her, his violet eye piercing. "Lady Maellys, I assure you that I will do my utmost to be a good husband to her," he said earnestly. "I know that the circumstances of our betrothal are less than ideal, but I hope that we can make the best of it."

Maellys nodded, not quite believing him. She knew that her sister deserved better than this situation. "I hope so too, Your Highness," she said coldly.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Aemond spoke again. "Lady Maellys, I know that this must be a difficult time for you and your sister," he said kindly. "If there is anything I can do to make things easier on you both, please do not hesitate to ask."

Maellys couldn't help but be surprised by his courteousness. He seemed genuine in his desire to help them. Perhaps he wasn't as bad as she had initially thought.

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said gratefully. "Your offer is much appreciated."

Aemond gave her a small smile before turning to leave. "Goodnight, Lady Maellys."

"Goodnight, Your Highness," she replied softly as he walked away.

Maellys watched him go with mixed emotions. On one hand, she still despised the idea of her sister being forced into marriage with him. But on the other hand, perhaps he wasn't the monster she had initially thought he was.

She sighed and wrapped her shawl closer around herself before heading back towards her chambers, falling into her bed exhausted and sinking into a deep sleep.

-

Maena had been woken up by Maellys the next morning. "Good morning!", she chirped. Maena rubbed her eyes sleepily, sitting up in bed. "Good morning," she yawned. "Did you manage to get any rest last night?"

Maellys forced a smile. "A little bit," she lied. "I was thinking, Maena... Maybe you could try to wait with your despair. I honestly do not think that he wishes you to suffer. Mabe you would wish to speak to the Queen? Maybe she has planned something fun for our nameday?"

Maena looked at her sister skeptically. "Do you really think that the Queen will care about our nameday?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Maellys shrugged. "It's worth a try, isn't it? And who knows, maybe we can distract ourselves from all this stress for a little while."

Maena nodded slowly. "I suppose you're right. We can't dwell on this forever."

Maellys smiled and pulled her sister into a hug. "Exactly. Now let's get ready for breakfast and then we'll speak to the Queen."

As they got dressed for the day, both sisters couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the pit of their stomachs. They knew that their situation was far from ideal, but they also knew that they had to make the best of it.

After breakfast, they made their way to the Queen's chambers, hoping to find some solace in her company.

When they arrived, they were greeted by one of the handmaidens who told them that the Queen was currently in a meeting with some of her advisors and wouldn't be available for a few hours. Disappointed but not deterred, they decided to take a walk around the castle grounds to pass the time.

As they walked through the gardens, Maena suddenly stopped in her tracks and gasped, pointing towards a small cluster of flowers near a nearby fountain.

"Maellys, look! Those are my favorite flowers!" she exclaimed, running towards them with glee. Maellys couldn't help but smile at her sister's excitement. "Well then let's pick some for your room," she said. "Or even better, some for the Queen. It would be charming, wouldn't it?"

Maena nodded eagerly and they began to carefully pick a bouquet of the vibrant flowers, discussing what they should say to the Queen when they presented it to her.

As they returned to the castle, they heard the sounds of horses approaching. They quickly moved out of the way as a group of knights rode past them, led by Prince Aemond himself. The sisters froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Aemond noticed them and reined in his horse, dismounting gracefully.

"Ladies," he said with a nod. "What brings you out here?"

"We were just taking a walk," Maellys replied politely.

Aemond glanced down at the bouquet in their hands. "And what do you have there?" he asked curiously.

Maena stepped forward, holding out the flowers. "We picked these for the Queen," she said. "We thought she might like them."

Aemond smiled, taking the bouquet from her to inspect it closer before handing it back. "How thoughtful of you both," he said. "I'm sure she will appreciate them."

They chatted for a few more moments before Aemond bid them farewell and rode off with his knights.

The sisters continued on their way towards the Queen's chambers, feeling a little lighter after their encounter with Aemond. Perhaps things weren't as hopeless as they had initially thought. When they finally arrived at the Queen's chambers, they were pleased to find that she was free to see them. They presented her with the bouquet and explained that they had picked it just for her.

The Queen smiled warmly at them, clearly touched by their gesture. "How lovely," she said. "Now, what has brought you to me? Both of you have been awfully quiet and I have never seen anyone that visited the sept as much as you had done."

Maellys and Maena exchanged a quick look before Maellys stepped forward, taking a deep breath. "Your Grace, we wanted to speak with you about my sister's impending marriage to Prince Aemond."

The Queen's expression softened slightly, knowing that the situation was a difficult one for the sisters. "Of course. I understand that this is not an easy situation for either of you. Is there something specific you wanted to discuss?"

"Well, we were just wondering if there was anything that could be done to make the transition easier for Maena," Maellys said tentatively. "Perhaps some sort of arrangement or agreement could be made between our two families."

The Queen sighed, her face taking on a more serious expression. "I'm afraid there isn't much that can be done at this point," she said gently. "The betrothal has already been arranged and agreed upon by both of our families. However, I promise you both that I will do everything in my power to ensure that Maena is safe and happy in her new life."

Maena bit her lip nervously, feeling as though she was being spoken about as though she were not there. She wanted to speak up and voice her own feelings but found herself unable to. Maellys noticed her sister's discomfort and spoke up again. "Your Grace, if I may... Maena is going to be marrying a prince. Surely there must be ways to make it more enjoyable for her?"

The Queen smiled softly at the girls' eagerness to help their sister. "Well, I suppose there are a few things that could be done," she said thoughtfully.

"Our name day is coming up, Your Grace.", Maena said, trying her best to calm down again and show the Queen that she was just as strong as when she had arrived.

The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is," she said slowly. "What do you propose?"

Maellys took a deep breath before speaking. "Well, we were hoping that perhaps there could be some sort of celebration or feast held in honor of Maena's and Prince Aemond's wedding," she said. "Something to make her feel special on her nameday and to celebrate the coming union between our families."

The Queen considered this for a moment before nodding. "I think that's a wonderful idea," she said. "I will speak with the kitchen staff and arrange for a feast to be held in Maena's honor on her nameday. And Maena, I promise you that we will do everything in our power to make your transition into Prince Aemond's household a smooth one."

Maena felt her heart lift at the Queen's words. It was comforting to know that someone was looking out for her, even if she didn't feel entirely ready for what was to come.

As they made their way back to their chambers, Maellys couldn't help but feel proud of her sister for speaking up and advocating for herself.

"Maena, I'm so proud of you," she said, hugging her sister tightly. "You were so brave just now." Maena smiled weakly, still feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. "I don't know if I was all that brave," she said. "But thank you."

Back in her own chambers, she nervously looked down into the courtyard. She saw Prince Aemond standing there, talking with some of his knights. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him, feeling a strange mixture of fear and excitement.

She had always known that she would marry someone important, but she had never expected it to be the prince himself. It was all so overwhelming and unfamiliar.

As she watched him, he suddenly looked up and caught her eye. Maena's instincts told her to look away but instead, she held his dark gaze for a moment before quickly turning back to her chambers.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Lust for love. // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader.

Summary: Aemond's life has always been a bitter and sour one, the only sweet thing in his life was you, his wife, perhaps too sweet for his liking, yet he neglected you in the past but a series of events lead you both together into love.

WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, interrupted orgasm, horny aemond, martial duties, clit stimulation, tiddy succin, body worship(?), gentle and kind aemond but he gets rough during sex, + not proofread, lmk if I missed any!

WC: 2.9k

A/N: divider credits @cafekitsune

The cold breeze brushed against Aemond's face as he walked hastily towards your chamber, his boots clacking against the stone floor heavily while his heart banged in his ribcage.

He was feeling light headed, unable to form any thoughts and only the words of the maester rang inside his skull from earlier. ‘Your lady wife seems to be sick’ he had informed him and those mere words were enough to make Aemond spurt up from his chair in the meeting room and immediately rush towards you.

Aemond, frankly, did not know why he was feeling anxious at the information that you were sick, he did not even like you much and only merely married you for the connections and benefits your family provided.

You were just a mere duty to him, so when did he start caring about you?

He stood in front of your chamber door waiting anxiously as the guard gave him a bow before he opened the door, the mental hinges creaking as it slowly moved. He steps inside hurriedly and immediately lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you sitting up. You just stare at him confused.

“Husband? What are you doing here?” The tone of your voice indicated surprise, because Aemond had never visited your chambers even once since the beginning of your marriage and only called you to his chamber when he wanted to consummate.

“I had been informed by the maester that you were sick.” He replies nonchalantly, tone betraying the true feelings that were whirling on the inside. He wanted to get close to you, embrace you.

“I'm not with child.” You reluctantly tell him while looking down, suddenly feeling as though you are a disappointment. It felt humiliating to tell him that, especially when he came all the way to your chambers, he probably expected that you would be with a child.

Except that was not the case.

Aemond was confused on why you were bringing up that topic now, but then it clicked in his head and he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention before shaking his head, “Oh no, wife, I wasn't here because of that.. I was worried.” He admits and your eyes widen in shock.

Worried for you?

For as long as you can remember Aemond never seemed the type to show affection or concern for anyone, perhaps it was due to his past grievances, you had only heard about his eye through rumours, he never opened up to you about anything. You were a duty for him, someone he needs a legitimate heir from; because it is not as though he doesn’t have whores to seek pleasure from so what is the use of you? ; or at least that is what you had assumed and questioned.

But to Aemond, you were his sweet gentle wife, he was afraid of hurting you, in his vision, you were like a white swan, pure, elegant and graceful, he did not want to scare you lest you fly away from him. He did not know when he started perceiving you in this way, but as time went on, he had developed quite a soft spot for you.

“My apologies, Lord husband, I did not intend to worry you.” You apologised, he shook his head gently. “No need to apologise, how are you feeling now?” He questions and you simply blink at him, “I'm well, better than before.” You reply with a soft smile. Aemond's lip curved upwards slightly as he nodded, “Very well.” He says in a dismissive tone.

Awkward silence falls between you both as you look down, he clears his throat before speaking, “If you'll pardon me- I have to—”

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” The question leaves your mouth in a hurry before you could stop it, a desperate attempt at clinging onto this fleeting moment of affection. He seems slightly taken aback but he nods his head, “I'd love to.” He replies and you nod, stepping in his direction and standing next to him. “Shall we go?” You inquire, “Yes, wife.” He answers and you wait for him to take the first step, which he does; and soon you follow him out of the room.

You both stroll down the garden, admiring the scenery, the breeze was gentle today, and the weather seemed perfect, Aemond linked your arm in his, holding you close to him.

Your skin was soft to the touch and it drove him insane, he couldn't help but stare at the way your breasts pushed up against the material of your dress, he never really properly fucked you like you deserve.

Yet now, he just wants nothing to do but push you against the castle wall and fuck you relentlessly in the garden. Aemond realised that he never heard you moan, or show any type of reaction when he consummated with you.

He wondered how your soft voice would shriek in pleasure, calling out his name in pleasure, how you'd cling so tightly to him, he wished he could witness such a sight. He wished he hadn't gone to whores to receive pleasure while he left his wife dry. He missed out on a lot of things due to his decisions.

He mentally made a note to stop visiting brothels as it would taint your honour, he could simply seek the same pleasure from you. He became more bothered as his imagination went wild.

“... husband…? husband…!” He snaps out of his imagination, looking at your confused expression, “Y-Yes? Please excuse me, I was lost in thought.” He apologises and you give him a soft smile, “You were saying something?” He asks and you nod, “I was thinking about; well; if you excuse my rudeness, I realised we don't know much about each other.” You truthfully tell him.

Aemond furrows his brows in question, “What do you mean by that wife?”

“I want to get to know you, husband.” You stare at him in the eye and his eye widens slightly, and just then he recalls the memory of Aegon's words.

“That woman in the brothel knows more about you than your own wife, don't you find it amusing?” He was taunting Aemond, and at that time Aemond ignored those words, but now that you've openly admitted that you don't know him much made his heart shatter.

“Of course wife, what do you wanna know?” He decides to let his guard down, ready to tell you whatever you ask for. “Everything.” You reply, biting your lip anxiously, your hand travels up to his face, caressing his cheek before you trail your thumb down his scar. He knew what that implication meant and he smiles at you in a gentle manner, his own hand coming up to grab your wrist.

“Of course.”

Days pass by just like that, your marriage with Aemond had improved tremendously after your little effort to get to know him better, you felt bad for him when he began to reveal such vulnerable things, yet you never judged him.

He had shown you all of his vulnerability so openly, from the matter of his eye to everything else. You listened in silence, and he appreciated that.

As Aemond grew more comfortable, he began to show his emotional side, which included both his vulnerability and anger. He would utter treasonous things about his own brother.

This night was one of those cold nights, the cold breeze flew into the martial chambers you were waiting in, the maids prepared you for the consummation as they do, you and Aemond consummate according to your moon cycle since your only duty is to provide him with a heir.

And besides, he probably did not want to lay with you in an intimate manner, or for pleasure. You felt insecure because of that.

You were scared that after all this progress, everything would return to the same way it was before because of this night, you doubted that it would happen but your thoughts plagued you.

You winced when you felt the maid tug at a hair strand accidentally, “Sorry my lady.” She apologises to you, “It is alright.” You respond softly, you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, eyes trailing down your features.

The door to the chamber opens, and Aemond strides in hurriedly, the maids quickly finish fixing you up and leave the room immediately, you get up from your seat and turn around to see Aemond undoing his clothes.

“Let me help you.” You offered, usually he would decline and continue to undress himself, and you expected that again, but his actions shocked you.

He immediately dropped his hands to the side and turned to look at you, waiting for you to walk over to him and help him. You blinked rapidly before rushing over to where he stood before you stood in front of him.

Your hands immediately began to work on removing his vest, your fingers delicately undid the loops, you were too focused on the job that you failed to notice Aemond's piercing gaze. He watched with intent as you worked on removing his clothes, his eye taking in your form. His breeches felt tight.

You pushed his coat off his shoulders and peeled away the vest, revealing his tunic beneath the layers, his garments fell to the ground with a shuffle, you stepped back, leaving him in his undergarments.

He grabbed the hem of his tunic before he pulled it off and then began to undo his breeches, untying the strings. You took that as a gesture to lay down on the bed, facing up.

This is what you did when you both consummated before, you would lay down, he would spread your legs, insert himself, finish and leave.

You expected that to be the case, but you were surprised when climbed on top of you, his face right in front of yours, platinum locks curtaining around you. He stared at your lips for a moment before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

You were surprised, and didn't know what to do, so you stayed still, but he bit your lip, indicating his disappointment at your freezing up, and so you immediately tried to mimic his movements.

Your lips danced against his, yet it couldn't match the fervent passion he moved with, it was desperate, intimate and most importantly, filled with love and lust.

All your prior insecurities melted away under his warm lips which were filled with desire and want, he wanted you, he seeked you out.

You both pulled away to catch your breaths, his lips were glossy from your saliva and slightly swollen. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest.

Aemond moved your night off your shoulder before ripping it apart, revealing your breasts which you immediately covered out of instinct. But he gently grabbed your wrists and pinned your hands to the side of your head.

He leaned down, tracing kissing down your jawline, to your neck and to the soft flesh of your chest. His hot breath against your bud made you shiver in delight.

He hooked his tongue on your hardened nipple before engulfing it with his mouth, you let out a squeal of surprise at his actions but you didn't stop him.

He suckled on it gently, using his teeth to trap the bud in between before licking it with his tongue, he grunted in delight, his grip loosening one of your hands, freeing it from his hold.

He grabbed your unoccupied breast with his now free hand, giving it soft squeezes and playing with the bud, rolling and pinching it. You were new to this, not having any understanding of what was happening, after all, you've only read about it, never experienced such intimate acts yourself.

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, you realised how sticky the area felt, and how it made it difficult for the friction of rubbing to work.

He notices this, lets go of your breast with a pop, he smirks before he rises off from you and settles in between your legs, this was the position you were more used to.

He spreads your legs wide apart, pulling up your nightgown, revealing all of you. He pressed his thumb against your clit which made your breath, you stared at him confused until you felt him rub small circles upon it.

Your body felt pangs of delightful stimulation, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling, all of this was foreign to you. Aemond takes a deep breath before he closes in on your cunt, before licking a stripe upwards to your clit. You jolt from the sudden pleasure.

Aemond wrapped his lips around it, sucking on the bud slowly, you whined, grabbing his head for support as his mouth worked wonders down there. You tasted absolutely divine to Aemond, your essence trailing down his cheek as your body produced so much of it. You whimpered, thrashing around lightly as his warm tongue flickered with your bud.

Aemond's tongue swirled around your clit before he captured it with his mouth once again; “Oh! Yes!” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure when you felt him nibble on your bud. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth rose in your lower abdomen, you felt as if there was a fire inside you, waiting to combust any moment.

Just when you feet the flames beginning to erupt, Aemond stops his manoeuvres, putting out the fire, you furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why he stopped.

But when you looked at Aemond, he seemed like an entirely different being at that moment, he had risen up back to his haunches again taking deep breaths almost as if he was trying to contain himself.

He was.

He had never felt such an overwhelming of desire in his body, every time he touched you; his mind scrambled into pieces, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Aemond?” You call out softly, confused, wondering if he was disappointed by your behaviour but it seems to snap him out of his daze and he stares at you. “I apologise; I'm finding it hard to control myself.” He admits his thoughts.

“Then don't.”

Aemond swore he heard you wrong.

“What?” He questions you.

“Don't try to Aemond, Don't hold yourself back, I want this, I want you.” You admit shyly.

The atmosphere fell silent for a second and you could feel the awkwardness from your own words beginning to sink in, that was until Aemond moved suddenly.

You shrieked as he pulled your hips onto his lap, wasting no time in inserting himself, you gasped at the sudden stretch, feeling yourself become full of him. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support.

He held your waist tightly, grabbing onto your hips for leverage as he began to move, thrusting himself in and out.

This was a movement you were familiar with, yet somehow it still feels new because of the strange sensation, it felt more intimate and passionate, his thrusts held meaning and it was as if every time he pushed inside you; he was reaffirming his love and desire for you.

He pushed you into the mattress, grabbing your legs and shoving them to your chest as he thrusted hard, his skin slapped against yours loudly, the room echoing the noises.

You threw your head back at the sensation, and you felt the fire in your stomach rekindle and you couldn't help but desperately chase it. “Ah, right there.” You moaned, feeling him hit a sweet spot inside you that fueled the fire in you, you gasped for air as every thrust of his knocked it out of your lungs. “You feel so good, you're driving me insane, wife.” Aemond grunts, his thrusts never once faltering.

Everything about this night together was very different from the previous ones, Aemond had never felt this good and neither have you, he regrets not trying to get to know you earlier. He felt like he was in heaven with the way you clenched around him.

He felt his high approaching, and he desperately ran after it thrusting deeper inside as he groaned and moaned.

Your body jolted up and down the bed and you felt the fire beginning to spread out slowly, you closed your eyes, when you felt the fire suddenly go out, you were confused but as Aemond thrusted one more time it erupted in your body like volcano, coursing through your veins and to your mind.

You moaned loudly, grabbing the sheets and arching your back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intensity, you have never felt this way before.

Your vision went completely white before you could see once again, you felt Aemond finish inside you, his cocking twitching as he spurted his seed deep inside you.

“Seven hells.” He groans, riding his orgasm off, you watch as he clenches his eye shut taking deep breaths.

He looked so ethereal.

He immediately falls down next to you, catching his breath, he pulls you close and kisses you on the forehead, “You did so well for me.” He praises you, and you blush shyly.

Neither of you moved from the bed, having no intention to.

Typically Aemond would leave the room right after.

Yet he didn't.

He was stroking your shoulder gently as you dozed off, head resting on his shoulder.

He looks at your closed eyelids and thinks you're asleep.

“I love you.” He confesses, realising his true feelings.

Your lips quirk up into a smile before you open your eyes slightly.

“I love you too.”

You then doze off into slumber immediately, Aemond's heart picks up its pace, embarrassed and shy that you had heard him, but your response made him smile.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Ānogar ānograro ⭑

Translation title: Blood of my blood

Masterlist

Request: Yes, this one

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Newlywed!Niece!Reader

Warnings: Porn ofc, Aegon being an ass, High Valyrian dirty talk, Aemond having a breeding kink, sex addiction, Alyssa x Baelon wedding night inspo, kissing, p in v sex.

Summary: Aemond was obsessed with his niece, and now she was officially his, his to breed, his to claim and the entire Red Keep gets to enjoy it too!

Word count: 1.3k

The sun was shy that morning, its pale rays slipping timidly through the heavy crimson drapes that adorned the chambers you now shared with your new husband. The room smelled faintly of dragonfire. It was a mingling of stone, ash, and something distinctly Aemond—a scent you couldn’t yet name, though it lingered in the furs and pillows that surrounded you.

You stirred first, blinking against the soft glow of dawn. For a moment, you forgot where you were. The bed was grand, with its towering posts and velvet hangings embroidered with dragons in flight. Your fingers idly traced the scales of one such dragon as the memories of last night came flooding back. The ceremonial feast, the vows spoken before the lords and ladies of the court, and finally, the intimacy of your union.

“Look at you, sucking in my cock like a whore from Flea Bottom, are you sure you’re a maiden?” You could only nod as he fucked into you on top. The whole bed slamming against the wall with his rough thrusts.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you recalled the way Aemond had looked at you then. His singular violet eye had been piercing, yet cautious, as if you were something fragile he feared might shatter under his touch, yet he couldn’t control himself. And now here you were, lying beside him in the aftermath of it all.

Aemond lay still, his chest half-turned to you. His silver hair spilled like molten light across the pillow, stark against the dark linens. The blanket had slipped to his waist, revealing the expanse of his bare chest. Eye patch on the nightstand and sapphire glimmering in the morning rays.

Your new husband shifted behind you. The bed was so warm and comfy and the way he was holding you was right out of a dream. You smiled to yourself when he peppered your neck with kisses.

“Good morrow my beautiful wife.” He grumbled lowly in your ear, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. “Good morrow, husband.” He too smiled at your words, and his grip around your waist thightend. You could feel his half hard cock bare against your own nude form.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed as many times as necessary, you’re mine now and I will not stop until your belly is swollen with my child and even then I would not stop.”

“What are you thinking about my love?” His honeyed voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Nothing- just last night, the ceremony and the feast…” He chuckled at that, his cock hardening fully at the thought of how your walls clenched around him last night.

“You mean when I split you open on my cock?” His words made you blush and hide your face in the pillows. “Don’t be shy now my love.” Aemond mumbled in your neck, placing some kisses to make you face him. Once you did he wasted no time in crashing his lips against yours.

Already hungry for another taste of your lips. He turned you sideways and then on top of him, grabbing your arse cheek and smacking it, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, dizzying you with desire. 

You could already feel the pre cum sticking to your stomach, making butterflies swirl inside. He smacked your arse once more, recalling how loud you moaned for him last night when he first did it. You were both sure the entire Red Keep heard your coupling, but according to your uncle husband that was good. 

Everyone knew Aemond was secretly obsessed with his niece, he tried to hide it, hate her as he hated her brothers but that was quite hard for him. And so when your betrothal was announced he couldn’t hide the smirk at supper, making sure to send it Luke’s way. 

The wedding night was filled with love as well as passionate fucking, he had taken you two more times after taking you maidenhead, each time making sure to fill you with his seed. He was already obsessed at the thought of breeding you, even the morning after it already consumed his mind again.

“You’re still slick with my seed, do you think you could take me already now?” You nodded at his words, his hand now caressing your arse. “Good girl, so good for her uncle, aren’t you?” You whined, “Yes uncle, so good- only for you-” His thumb that was now circling your clit, made you lose your entire vocabulary. 

“Kessa ao sagon sȳz syt aōha kēpus bisa jēda hae sȳrī?” Will you be good for your uncle this time as well? You nodded again at his words. “Ȳdragon.” Speak. “Kessa kēpus, kostilus tepagon ziry naejot nyke-” Yes uncle, please give it to me. He smiled, “Sȳz riña.” Good girl.

Then you felt the tip of his cock grazing your hole, you were still sensitive from last night but you were already addicted to his cock, to his voice, his kisses and his smell. Without a warning he slipped inside, eager to feel your cunt again. 

“Sīr ȳrda syt nyke.” So tight for me. You moaned at his words, starting to bounce yourself on his cock. You had no patience either, and the one time you got to ride him last night was euphoric. You loved when he spoke your mother tongue to you, it made you feel close and connected to him.

But it was even better when he used it to whisper filthy words in your ear while you bounced on his cock. Skin smacking filled the room, as well as your mixed sounds of pleasure. You held steady against his chest, switching from grinding on him to bouncing on him. 

He grabbed your breasts in his hand, obsessed with the way they bounced up and down with your movements. Pleasure consumed both of you and you knew he was getting closer by the way he held his breath. He however held patience no longer and put his arms around you, holding you flush against his chest as he started to fuck up into you harshly. Making your walls contract and come hard around his cock.

“Kessa māzigon syt nyke- Tepagon nyke iā riña, hōzigon syt nyke-” Yes come for me- Give me a child, swell for me- He grunted, a sheen of sweat now glistening on his skin. You could only moan and whine above him, letting him take you. With a couple more pounds, he filled your cunt with a loud growl. Making sure to fuck his seed deep into you.

Your morning activities had made you both completely forget about the arranged family meal, you were to break fast with the king and his wife as well as your mother and father, not forgetting your uncle, aunt and siblings. The two of you rushed to get ready, both hurrying down the halls with a smile. 

When you entered the room, knowing looks were passed. Of course Aegon couldn’t help himself. “So...you don’t need to tell us how the wedding night was, we could all enjoy it with you.” He grinned. “Aegon.” Alicent warned. He just laughed. 

You blushed deeply, you were raised a kind and modest princess, and for your intimacy to be on display like this was quite embarrassing. Aemond held your hand and you joined them at the table, both of you praying that that would be the end of Aegon’s commentary, how wrong you were.

Tag: @summerposie (Completely forgot 😭 sorry for the late tag)

[multific]

An Eye for an Eye

​​Aemond Targaryen x Reader

/This is a short piece based on episode 1 of season 2/

Season 2 Ep 1 SPOILERS - Your first and only warning - 

You knew it. 

As soon as you heard Helaena's cries, you knew.

A son for a son.

But not your son.

You hid away with your young child in the depths of Red Keep. 

Even if Aemond called it unnecessary, you weren't going to risk it.

Your son was far too precious for you to lose him.

Soon after the cries began, Aemond barged into your hidden chambers and he let out a long sigh, a sigh of relief. 

He rushed to your side as you sat on the bed.

"You are both alive." he said, as if needing to calm himself, he looked at you and then at your child in your arms.

"We are. My heart hurts for Helaena." you said as a tear ran down your cheek.

"My sister made a choice, Aegon will handle it. I'm glad you two are fine." he said as you handed him your sleeping son. 

"That was meant for us. You killed her boy, so they came for yours."

"I know, but I will not let it happen. I am glad you came here. I should have listened to you." you watched him as he held his son to his chest.

"I had this feeling, as if someone was watching me, yet no one was here. I guess they were looking for me, for him rather." Aemond nodded as he placed a kiss on his son's head.

You knew that Aegon would have his revenge for his son.

And Aemond will have his for sending men for his. 

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[agathaswoman]

accidentally reading aemond's diary

aemond: you read my diary?

y/n: ok, first of all, at first i did not know that it was YOUR diary, alright? i thought it was just a very sad handwritten book by someone else

[lola-writes]

Prince Regent

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Synopsis: Aemond returns to the Red Keep after the battle of Rook’s Rest with a newfound vigor for his wife.

Themes & Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!), POV first person (Aemond’s & reader’s), s2x04,05 inspired, enemies to lovers trope, smut, violence, blood, dark/possessive Aemond, breeding kink, swearing, mentions of rape, high valyrian, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, doggystyle, creampie, rough sex, hair pulling, choking

Song: Hide and Seek ~ Klergy, Mindy Jones

Latest oneshot: A Dragon's Lullaby

Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist | Playlist

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ❤️

Enjoy the read!

[gif @aemondstark ]

AEMOND

Smoke. Dragon fire. Blood.

It clung to me, acrid and sweet, like a perverse cloak of victory.

A primal urge, raw and unbidden, erupted within me, a hunger that transcended the battle’s end. It devoured my senses. It vibrated within my bones. It consumed my very being.

My adrenaline ebbed, leaving a hollowness in its wake. The battle was over. Victory was ours. Gleaming armor was storming the castle. But that victory hung hollow, a meaningless echo in the carnage. My flesh seared with defeat. A strange fire, unsatiated, stirred beneath my skin.

I needed something more. Something I could sink my teeth into, as Vhagar had. Something warm and living.

From the air, I watched the smoke curl skyward, soldiers scattering like startled ants, and Meleys red corpse lay vanquished beneath brick and dust.

The warmth of my kill was still writhing. It was a fresh, living ember, demanding to be tended.

The impact of my brother’s fall had torn the wood asunder, set the ground ablaze, smoke and cinders rising steadily towards the heavens. My gaze settled on the inferno, and I urged Vhagar, my reflection in scales and fire, towards it, my mighty beast beating the wind like thunder as we circled twice around the barrenness of the forest, before she heeded my command.

“Qubemagon, Vhagar.” (Descend)

I dismounted her and trod a path towards the inferno, my sword materializing in my grasp with a practiced turn of my wrist. Shades of red marred my vision. The air shimmered, thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood.

Adrenaline trickled into my bloodstream.

Never had I been so close to my birthright, so close to erasing the past. My grip tightened around the hilt. Images swam up before me. A lifetime of humiliations, each one a searing brand in my retina. My brother getting what he wasn’t fit for, presented to him on a silver platter. But no longer. No more would he be the architect of my suffering. 

But as a tremor shook the ground, a low rumble heralding the broken form of the golden dragon, a monument of smoke, blood, dirt, and ashes, none of it seemed to matter. 

As I crested a rise, the world snapped into sharp focus. My gaze landed on him - my brother; melted into a nightmarish tableau of steel, flesh, and bone, encircled by his dragon’s golden body.

Resolution, cold and heavy, settled in my chest. Killing him would be fruitless. The Stranger had already requested an audience.

I had achieved what needed to be done. As I lifted the edge of my sword to its sheath, a voice echoed through the forest.

“Aemond!” Cole cried my name like a desperate warning. I glanced back, my weapon disappearing into its sheath with a final rasp.

I looked down at my sacrifice. The damage was raw, excessive. The damage that was wanton. A pang of unease twisted in my gut. 

A glint of metal caught my eye, and I dropped to my haunches to retrieve the Conqueror’s Valyrian steel dagger from the bloodied earth. The dagger that was once Aegon’s. It was mine now. 

Ser Criston’s rustling armor announced his approach. “Where is His Grace?” he asked, voice quivering.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I tilted my chin, allowing the glistening steel guide his gaze toward the grotesque sculpture of my melted brother encircled by golden scales.

Ser Criston crumpled to his knees without a word, as I rose to my feet. 

A cold knot of regret twisted in my chest as I regarded my tribute. But it was fleeting, replaced by the icy fire of my ambition. 

There was much to be done, and I needed to proceed if I were to achieve it. I turned on my heel and left Cole and my broken brother behind. 

The battlefield and the devastation shrank beneath me as Vhagar’s powerful wings propelled us skyward. 

A sharp thrill prickled my skin that was naught from the velocity, but rather that of my impending regency. 

_

Upon returning to King’s Landing, I made my way to the small council chamber, ascending the stairs with slow deliberate steps. The air was thick with tension. The council was in disarray, engrossed in a heated discussion, but fell silent as the doors swung open. Eyes turned to me.

“My Lords,” I announced, my voice cutting through the sudden hush. I rounded the council table. “Mother,” I said, offering a curt nod of acknowledgement as I passed Alicent’s chair.

“Aemond,” she demanded, steel in her voice. “Where is Aegon?”

A heavy pause hung in the air before I met her gaze.

“Aegon has fallen,” I said. 

The council erupted in uproar. 

Cries of outrage and accusations.

Obscenities.

Scandal.

“How could this be allowed to happen?”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“We are doomed!”

The disapproval of the Lords sullied the chambers. This council was surely in lack of discipline. I already had my eyes on who I were to replace.  

“The King is dead!”

“The King is not dead,” I countered, my voice calm and mellifluous, soothing the council members like warm milk. Voices dipped and eyes turned to me, an invisible shudder surging through the air. “He has merely sustained grave injuries and is being brought back to the Red Keep for treatment as we speak.” I began to pace around the table, hands slotted behind my back. “The King fought bravely,” I continued. “Landing mortal injuries to the Pretender’s cause. But the Red Queen cast him out of the sky before I could get to him.”

My pacing had brought me to the head of the council table, where I ceased my step. My hand reached out to allow my fingers to trace the chair frame, its iron vibrating with the power I so craved. 

It was palpable. 

It was mine for the taking. 

I looked up at the members of the small council, my eye piercing each and every one of them until they quivered in their chairs.

“And in the coils of torment,” I spoke. “My brother, King Aegon, named me Prince Regent.”

A tremor vibrated the room, weary eyes glanced at each other, bodies twisting uncomfortably in creaking chairs. 

“If anyone should be named regent, surely it should be me, his mother,” voiced Alicent. 

I cast my gaze on her. 

“Aemond is next in line,” came voices from the small council.

“Yes, but the King still lives!” Alicent implored.

“Who am I to contest the wishes of the King?” I said softly, casting her a look of pure innocence.

Alicent’s eyes welled like a tide of despair, her head dipping to the table with defeat. If Alicent could conjure words that had not been uttered to serve her own ends, why could I not?

“Aemond…” she started, her voice a gentle tremble. “Could we at least discuss this?”

“As prince regent, I vow to serve this realm, my Lords, and guide our path to victory against the Whore of Dragonstone.”

My gaze drifted to the platform in the center of the table, settling on the cold polished marble that remained. The King’s marble. I reached for it, and as my fingers closed around its smooth surface, I met Alicent’s eyes. A flicker of desperate plea danced within them, and I held it with a cold response. She exhaled with defeat as I seated myself in the King’s chair, placing the marble in its rocky nest. 

“All hail Aemond, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm,” Lord Tyland Lannister’s voice came, and the words echoed across the table. 

A smirk played on my lips. “My Lords,” I began, splaying my hands atop the table. “Let us commence.”

YOU

Mutters. Whispers. Gossip.

The news, carried on frantic breaths, was a tangled mess.

One moment, the King was dead, the next, grievously wounded. Some murmured of a crippled monarch, others of his mighty dragon slain. 

It buzzed in my ears as I made my way towards the throne room.

Fear, a cold serpent, coiled in my gut.

The throne room pulsed with tense energy. Hundreds of courtiers jostled for position, their faces etched with a mixture of morbid curiosity and nervous anticipation. I descended the cold stone steps, the weight of each step echoing the growing dread in my heart.

The Iron Throne loomed before me, an empty monument of jagged steel. Its cruel beauty, forged from a thousand fallen enemies, held a chilling glint in the flickering torchlight. I observed it over the shoulder of the woman in front of me, the precariousness of my position suddenly amplified. 

A shiver ran down my spine. Sometimes, I believed it was cursed. Promising to cast whoever graced it to a terrible fate.

My fingers, restless with apprehension, turned my rings about my fingers, pulling them off and on in a nervous dance. A prickling sensation spread through me as I felt countless eyes burning into my back. Disapproval mingled with a strange reverence. The room thrummed with unspoken questions, and I, too, yearned for answers, desperately seeking a foothold in the swirling vortex of uncertainty. 

A ripple of anticipation surged through the crowd as a figure emerged. I turned to witness the gleaming silver armor of the King’s Guard announcing Ser Criston Cole, the newly appointed Hand of the King. Hundreds of eyes swiveled in his wake as he strode towards the Iron Throne, which seemed to gnash its serrated teeth at his approach. 

My mind churned in chaotic disarray. Ser Criston had marched on Rook’s Rest, prompting Aemond’s hurried departure. Where my husband was now, remained a mystery. Perhaps still at Rook’s Rest, tending to the fallen King, or perhaps continuing on to Harrenhal, a destination he oft mentioned.  

None of it mattered. 

My marriage to Aemond had been a political maneuver, as cold and sterile as a septa’s cell. He held no affection for me, nor I for him. He was the absent, aloof prince I’d always imagined him to be. Carrying a frozen heart of a killer. Our union was no more than an alliance. Though I was hardly complaining. Married life granted me freedoms I scarcely thought possible for a highborn lady. But I would jest if I said I did not long for something more. Something warm. Something living. But in Aemond, either would be the last place I’d find. 

Ser Criston swept a steely gaze across the court, his face unreadable. He chewed the inside of his cheeks curiously, the motion ceasing abruptly when his eyes met mine. Cold and dark. I met his stare head-on, until an odd feeling took root in my gut. 

Unanswered questions swirled in my mind. 

Ser Criston tore his gaze from me, his eyes flitting across the room. Then, with a voice laced with authority, he boomed, “I address this court as Hand to inform you that the King has been grievously wounded in battle!”

A collective gasp ripped through the court. Whispers, like startled birds, rose in a flurry.

Ser Criston continued, a steely edge creeping into his voice, “Rhaenyra the Cruel will believe she won a great victory this day. May believe we will cower and offer her the throne like whipped dogs. But the False Queen is sorely mistaken. For the throne will not remain empty.”

Whispers escalated into a commotion. An unsettling prickle danced across my skin. My mind darted to the dowager Queen Alicent. Surely, in Aegon’s absence, they would elevate her to the throne. But after usurping Rhaenyra, would they truly place another woman in her stead? 

My thoughts, apparently, mirrored those of the court, for Alicent’s name drifted around me like a persistent echo.

Ser Criston’s voice rose to a commanding pitch, reverberating through the throne room, “I present to you…” The heavy oak doors of the throne room ground open, drawing every eye in unison.

My breath caught in my throat as a figure materialized at the stairs. 

It wasn’t Alicent. 

A frame, draped in dark green leather that shimmered with silver accents, emerged from the groaning doors. The Conqueror’s crown, a heavy circle of iron, sat upon their silver head, casting a long shadow across a face half-obscured by an eyepatch. 

“Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen,” Ser Criston declared, his voice thick with forced authority. “Rider of Vhagar.”

Aemond descended the steps.

“Slayer of the queen who never was.”

Aemond’s footsteps, muffled by polished leather boots and the collective murmurs of the courtiers, made a predator’s approach as he stalked toward the Iron Throne. Two King’s Guard flanked him with stoic expressions. 

“And Protector of the Realm.”

He ascended the iron steps with a chilling grace, finally settling upon the throne. A hush fell over the court, thick and heavy. Silence stretched as he molded himself into the seat, his lethal hands caressing the equally lethal rests, a small smirk playing on his lips. His voice, a honeyed drawl laced with a hint of steel, echoed in the sudden silence.

“My Lords and Ladies,” he began, the menacing glint in his blue eye accentuated by the play of shadows on his face. “His Grace, the King, has been wounded at the battle of Rook’s Rest, and will be incapable to rule.”

There was a power in his presence, an unspoken threat that left the court speechless. Not a cough, not a rustle of fabric dared to break the silence. 

“Therefore,” he continued, his gaze sweeping over the frozen faces, “I, will act as your sovereign.”

Unease prickled at my skin. Something about Aemond’s demeanor, the unnatural sheen on his face, sent a tremor of suspicion through me. 

Had this all been a carefully orchestrated play? What truly transpired at Rook’s Rest? 

My eyes darted to the ornate dagger resting at his hip, the ancestral blade of Aegon the Conqueror. It was the same dagger I’d last seen clutched in the hand of his brother. 

As Aemond spoke on, a knot of apprehension tightened in my gut. 

“The tide has turned,” he declared, his voice ringing through the stunned silence. “Rhaenys Targaryen is slain, along with her dragon.” A small smile tugged at his lips, a low hum escaping them. “The largest serving the Pretender’s cause.” He said it like it was a jest. “Rook’s Rest has been claimed, leaving Dragonstone vulnerable.” His fingers tapped across the blades. “This is a victory for us.”

Scattered heads nodded in agreement. 

Then, his gaze snapped to me, a rapacious glint in his single blue eye. It seemed to bore into my very soul, stripping away any pretense. 

“It’s all going according to plan,” he murmured, his voice a silken threat, and for a moment, an eerie feeling within told me he was addressing me alone. The fire that danced within his eye flickered a touch too bright, and it felt like he could see every thought swirling in my mind, every flicker of doubt, every spark of fear. 

It felt like he was about to eat me alive.

A violent terror surged through me, icy fingers gripping my heart. Adrenaline tapped into my veins, a primal urge to flee. 

_

Frantic energy fueled my movements. I shoved dresses, jewelry, all of my belongings, into overflowing wooden trunks. Their straining hinges mocked my desperation. My handmaid, silent but swift, followed my frenzied instructions. I knew then, with a chilling certainty, that I owed her my life after this escape. 

Aemond’s chambers, once a familiar haven, felt cold and sterile now, stripped bare of my belongings. Rain lashed against the open windows, mirroring the frantic rhythm of my heart. The journey ahead would be long and treacherous. Circumstances weren’t optimal, but there was no other choice at my disposal.

My husband was a murderer and a kinslayer twice over. And my intuition told me it would soon be thrice. He wasn’t just ruthless; there was an unsettling hollowness behind his actions, a chilling absence of remorse. He was a walking blight, a storm that devoured everything in its path. And I refused to be struck down by its lightning.  

The apartment doors shuddered open, shattering me into distraught. My flight instincts flared, but I refused to cower. My hand instinctively shot out, grasping my maid’s hand tightly. We held our breath as a large, porcelain hand reached out and pushed the door wider. 

Aemond entered, leaving the door ajar. His gaze, unwavering and cold, locked with mine. “Leave us,” he commanded, his voice a smooth, cold current. 

My handmaid curtsied, her grip faltering as she pried my fingers loose. With a hurried glance back, she scurried out, the heavy door slamming shut behind her. 

An oppressive silence descended, broken only by the frantic pounding of my heart against my ribs. 

Escape seemed impossible; the air thick with a chilling dread. 

“You sent for me, wife?” Aemond’s voice, a silken caress laced with steel, echoed in the cavernous chamber. He approached with a predative grace, each deliberate step shrinking the distance between us. 

Confusion slammed into me. I hadn’t summoned him. This was, by far, the most he’d spoken to me since our loveless union. 

“You are mistaken,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My feet, traitors that they were, retreated with each of his advances. Then, it dawned on me, that it might have been his intention to put me in a state of dubiety, making me more malleable. A cutthroat, not only lethal, but cunning.

He stopped beside my overflowing trunk, a flicker of amusement playing on his lips. 

“Travelling somewhere?” His single blue eye, unnervingly perceptive, held me captive. 

Panic clawed at my throat. I clenched my trembling hands into fists, slotting them behind my back, forcing my lips into a gentle smile. 

“I wish to visit my family,” I said. “With war looming, I wish for us to be together.”

Aemond took another measured step closer. “Ao issi aerēbas mirriot daor,” (You’re not going anywhere), he murmured, the High Valyrian rolling off his tongue like a sinister threat. 

A furrow etched between my brows as I attempted to comprehend his words. My grasp of the ancient tongue was limited, and whether he intended me to understand was a cruel game. Perhaps, it was yet another tool to exert his dominance. But based on his relentless pursuit, I gathered me leaving wasn’t an option he entertained.

“I am of no use to you, Aemond,” I pleaded, maintaining a safe distance. “Me staying serves no purpose.”

“On the contrary,” he purred, his voice dripping with a dark promise. His head tilted covetously, venom flashing in his eye. 

“We barely exist to each other,” I continued. “What difference would it make if I was half a world away?”

“It would make all the difference.” The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by a glacial edge. “There’s the matter of heirs.”

Seven Hells. 

Anguish twisted my gut. Intuition, a primal scream, roared to life. Images flashed behind my eyelids – Aemond sitting the throne, and Aegon reduced to ash. 

Had this been his plan all along? Was he the reason for the King’s lethal end?

The pieces slammed together in my mind, a horrifying mosaic. 

I gasped, my back hitting the cold stone wall. Aemond’s ambition stretched far beyond my naïve expectations. Loyalty to his house, to his brother, had been a carefully constructed facade. Beneath it, he schemed, a shrewd predator stalking his ultimate prize. The crown. 

And the crown needed heirs. 

He towered over me, his presence overwhelming. He was much taller than I recalled, every inch radiating a rapacious tension. A hand braced itself against the wall, inches from my head. 

“What have you done?” My thoughts materialized into shaky words, laced with an enmity that surprised even me. My gaze raked over him, revulsion twisting my features. The green leather seemed to pulse, an illusion fueled by my churning stomach. 

A flicker, a hint of something akin to uncertainty, crossed his single eye. It darted across my face, as if truly seeing me for the first time. Perhaps he was. In this desperate flight, we’d never been closer. Close enough to be enveloped by his scent, a foreign musk that did little to quell my churning nausea. 

“Skoros iksin bēvilagon.” (What was necessary)

I frowned again, aggravated that he took to High Valyrian as an attempt to shut me out of his thoughts. My jaw clenched, frustration a bitter taste on my tongue. 

Malevolence rose like a flood as I leaned forward, so close that our noses nearly touched, “I would not have your child in a million years, kinslayer,” I spat, my voice trembling with contained fury. I lunged forward, aiming to push past him, to escape his suffocating presence. But his other hand shot out, slamming against the wall beside me, effectively caging me in.

A venomous glint flickered in his eye as he narrowed it at me through his lashes. A twitch played on his lips, a cat batting at a cornered mouse. “Be that as it may,” he said mellowly. “But even a bad wife must obey her king.”

A scoff escaped my lips, my eyes sizing him up and down. “You are no king,” I hissed, defiance lacing my voice. “You are not even a man.”

His reaction was swift and brutal.

One hand shot out and grabbed my face, forcing my head against the cold stone. Pain erupted at the impact, but quickly subsided as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning against my lips.

“Speak such treason again, and I’ll show you what I really am.”

“What will you do?” I spat back, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and insurgence. “Cripple me, like you did your brother? Force yourself on me?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, his voice simmering with barely contained violence.

A tense silence ensued, the air crackling with his restrained fury.

My suspicions, already simmering, solidified into a horrifying certainty. He’d orchestrated his brother’s downfall on purpose. 

“Have you no honor?” I whispered, the words a ragged plea. 

The silence stretched, broken only by our ragged breaths. His hold on my face loosened gradually, his hand falling away. But his gaze remained fixed on me, a storm brewing within its depths. 

“You cannot stop me, Aemond,” I said, my voice shrinking. “I will leave this place, one way or another. You can play king in my absence, but it will be a hollow crown.”

“Kesan arghugon ao naejot se mōris hen tegon.” (I will hunt you to the end of the earth)

“Speak plainly,” I snapped, my patience with his cryptic pronouncements wearing thin.

A chilling smile, devoid of warmth, stretched across his lips. He pushed himself away from the wall, backing away, creating my long-desired distance between us. 

“You may go,” he drawled, the amusement in his voice laced with a dangerous edge, that sardonic smile still plastered on his lips. 

Acrimony filled my gut. What little I knew of this man, I feared greatly, but also told me this was a trick. He wouldn’t relinquish control so easily. He’d allow me to make my “escape”, only to have me snatched back by the King’s Guard, now under his control, a public display of his authority. There was no true freedom with him.

Maegor’s tunnels, a potential escape route, loomed tantalizingly behind me. If only I were alone, a simple push against the wall would send me tumbling into its dark embrace. But escape without a plan or supplies was a fool’s errand. 

My mind spun, each possibility twisting the knife of despair deeper. Even if I reached my family, what awaited me there? Shame would be their welcome. Aemond, no doubt, would make sure of it. 

The rain continued its relentless assault on the outside world, punctuated by the booming symphony of thunder. A flash of lightning illuminated the apartments, casting Aemond in a grotesque, menacing silhouette. 

Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I slumped to the floor, seeking solace in the meager comfort of my arms wrapped around my knees. Here I was, a prisoner in this gilded cage, condemned to bear the children of a traitor until flames consumed us all. 

Aemond crouched before me, his wrists resting on his knees. He regarded me with an intensity that bordered on scientific curiosity. A flicker of something, perhaps disappointment, played at his edges. 

“I’d take you for many things, wife,” he cooed, the endearment dripping with veiled malice. “But weak was not one of them.” His words landed like a body blow. “If I’d known you’d crumble so easily, I would never have wed you in the first place.” 

I sniffed and looked up at him, exhaustion a heavy cloak on my lids. “You did not have much of a say in the matter,” I countered.

A wicked smile twisted his lips and his head tilted to the side. “No,” he said softly. A sudden chill iced his demeanor. “And neither do you.”

He rose to his feet with predacious grace, leaving me pleated on the floor. He sauntered to his chair and seated himself, one leg propped up on his knee, his leather splaying atop the arm rests.

I watched him. His face was turned to the violent storm outside, immersed in contemplation, lightning whipping across his features. A vision of menace. A weapon poised to strike. 

“So, what is your scheme, Aemond?” I started; my voice hoarse. His head turned slowly, his gaze locking onto mine with the piercing intensity of Valyrian steel. “Do you envision a period of mourning for the King, followed by a convenient acclamation in your favor? Or will you hurry along the succession and carry out the deed yourself before anyone suspects?”

A single corner of his mouth quirked into a cruel smile. “Suppose I have not yet decided.” His voice was like liquid. 

Defiance flickered within me. “The court will never agree to this once they find out what you’ve done.”

Aemond hummed, a deep sound in the bottom of his chest. “Dragons don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.” He leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees. “I am next in line to the throne,” he drawled. “None is better suited than I.”

I staggered to my feet and went to sit beside him. “With a legitimate heir,” I said carefully. “Your claim would be uncontested.”

He smirked, as though I’d read his mind. He leaned back, his eyes gleaming with dangerous delight. 

“A woman’s pleasure is,” he began, a slow, suggestive smile playing on his lips. His blue eye drifted down my form in a way that made my skin crawl. “Of as much importance as the seed itself.”

A hot flush crept up my cheeks at his implication.

“Which is why submission must be a willing act,” he finished, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

I swallowed, provocation crackling through me. Did he truly believe I would succumb to his advances? He seemed to think he could manipulate anyone to his will, whether through seduction or brutality, though I had yet to see the former. 

“And if I refuse?” I challenged, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands. 

A low growl vibrated in his chest, his face soft. “Then you’ll find yourself counted amongst the sheep,” he drawled.

Deflating, I sighed and dipped my head. The only path forward seemed excruciatingly clear. Raising my eyes to meet his, I lifted an eyebrow in rebellion.

“Consider me sheep then.” With that, I rose from the settee and strode towards the apartment doors, the cold of the metal handle stealing the warmth from my fingers as I heaved it open.

It shut then, with a loud thud, and I jumped, a sudden heat radiating behind me. Aemond’s fingers splayed on the oak door above my head. My pulse drummed in my ears, Aemond’s lips grazing my lobe, urging it to pick up the pace. 

“Jaelā naejot mazverdagon nyke jorarghutan ao, ābrazȳrys?” (You want to make me chase you, wife?) His voice rumbled into me, a low growl as potent as the thunderstorm.

The rolling, guttural words sent a strange warmth through my core. His air consumed me. A rich mixture of smoke, leather, and dragon, infiltrated my senses, intoxicating and unsettling in equal measure. 

“I can’t understand you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I felt him smiling against my ear, a low chuckle reverberating into it, sending goosebumps erupting across my skin. 

“You won't need to,” he said softly. His hand drifted away from the door and closed around my throat, surprisingly gentle, yet the warmth of his fingers felt like embers branding my skin. They snaked around the back of my neck, the pressure tightening as he turned me to face him. His single eye, a bottomless well of intricacy, held mine captive.

My gaze flickered down to his lips. They were curved into a wicked grin.

His scent became a suffocating presence. The heat radiating from his body, fervid as a dragon, made sweat bead on my forehead. My entire being screamed I was at his mercy. He could crush my life out with a mere squeeze, or worse, with his single eye, he could strip me bare without ever laying a hand on me. 

But a strange fire flickered within me, a rebellion against his dominion. My hands, fueled by a desperate need for control, reached out and began loosening his doublet, my fingers slow and deliberate. 

Aemond stilled, his eye falling to my movements. He watched, transfixed, as I unfastened the green leather halfway down his chest, then trailed my fingers lower. His gaze darkened and his breath grew uneven, as the bulge beneath his belt pressed against my touch.

A visceral desire flared within me, a response I couldn’t fully comprehend. My pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, slowly drifting between my thighs at the sight of his desire. 

His grip softened at my nape, and with a surge of defiance, I ripped myself free from his hold, and landed a heavy blow to his stomach. But a wave of terror washed over me when Aemond barely flinched.

Panic clawed at my throat. 

Taking advantage of his momentary surprise, I flung open the chamber doors and fled, the sound of my pounding heart echoing in my ears. 

AEMOND

The aftershock of her blow lingered, a dull ache radiating from my gut, while I allowed her to make her escape. Fury, a familiar companion, usually surged through me, promising retribution, suggesting to make her death appear an accident. This time, however, a different heat consumed me, a mix of surprise and… arousal. 

Rarely did I misjudge a person. Yet, the meek mouse I’d wed had transformed into a daring she-wolf before my very eyes. This escape attempt, fueled by defiance, was a revelation. It made my dick hard. 

A rapacious glint flickered in my eye. A grudging respect, laced with something far more primal, coiled in my gut. I had underestimated her, and the unexpected turn of events had ignited a spark within me. 

A smirk twisted my lips, and I hummed with satisfaction, the thrill of the hunt coursing through me. 

“Jaelā naejot tymagon?” (You want to play?) I murmured, the challenge laced with amusement. “Kesi tymagon.” (Let’s play.)

I started into the storm-ridden castle. 

YOU

Immediate regret shot through me with a pang, a cold fist squeezing my breath. 

To toy with a dragon was like asking to get burned.

My lungs screamed in protest, my legs burning with each step down the Red Keep’s slick stone steps. Blood, metallic and sharp, left traces in my mouth as I hoisted my cumbersome gown to avoid tripping. The castle shuddered from the storm, which groaned and wailed its onslaught. Guards stood stoic at their posts, their expressions unreadable underneath silver helms. Appealing to them was a fool’s errand.

None dared defy the one-eyed prince. 

Driven by blind instinct, I found myself pushing through the massive doors of the throne room. 

The Iron Throne, a monstrous silhouette of twisted blades, dominated the chamber, its edges flashing white-hot under the lightning’s fury. I stumbled towards it, chest heaving, gasping for air. 

If it truly was cursed, could touching it offer some strange absolution, a release from the gilded cage that was my life? Surely, it couldn’t be worse than the fate that awaited me back in his clutches. 

Ascension. My trembling legs carried me up the steps, each one a monumental effort. Reaching the top, I lingered to sit, an action so simple, yet it loomed so immensely in my mind.

“Waiting to make your peace with the gods?” came a voice, and I turned with a gasp.

Aemond stood in the middle of the room, arms slotted behind his back, approaching with slow, menacing steps, like a predator savoring the hunt. Thunder boomed overhead. 

“No,” I countered, spite flaring hot in my chest. “Waiting for you to catch up so I can meet them myself,” I said, descending the steps. 

“Once more, so quick to admit defeat,” he taunted, venom dripping from his words like the rain outside.

I studied his sharp features, while the burden of my reality settled like a weight in my chest. “There is no escaping you,” I gritted out, holding his heavy gaze. 

His violence loomed heavy, and depravity flickered in his gaze. “Your perception waxes,” he conceded, and suddenly, the world tilted on its axis as he scooped me up and tossed me effortlessly over his broad shoulder. 

The journey back to his chambers was a furious ballet of resistance. My limbs flailed wildly, desperate for purchase, and obscenities, laced with an untenable fear, ripped from my throat.

A sharp slap landed on my behind, eliciting a yelp of surprised pain. 

“The more you struggle,” he growled, the sound a low rumble in his chest, “the worse it will be.”

A part of me recognized the truth in his words, yet a bestial defiance warred within, refusing to yield. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I lunged for his silver hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking with all my might. 

He hissed through his teeth, followed by a guttural sound echoing deep within him. “Ilībōños,” (Bitch/Bastard) he cursed.

The apartment door slammed shut behind us as he entered, his movements purposeful. With a rough toss, I landed unceremoniously on the bed, the air whooshing out of my lungs on impact. Fury, a searing inferno, consumed me, each cell screaming in protest, my claws unsheathing. I wanted to hurt him. 

Anything within reach became a potential weapon. Pillows, a discarded jeweled comb – I hurled them all at him, each item a silent scream of rebellion. But his movements were swift, each projectile dodged with practiced ease. 

Frustration mounted, morphing into a desperate rage. I lunged at him, a clumsy attempt to push him back. But he remained immovable, an unyielding mountain. Undeterred, I pushed again, and again, fueled by a futile contempt. 

Finally, as I drew back for another pointless shove, his hands shot out, lightning fast, pinning my arms to my sides. He moved swiftly, his body caging mine in a steely embrace. 

“Lykirī,” he hummed, the word a low thrum against my ear. 

“Fuck you,” I spat, my chest heaving from my ambush.

Did he mistake me for his winged beast that he could command to his will?

My attempt to wiggle out of his hold was a pointless endeavour. Rage crackled in my veins, but it flickered under his touch. My breath hitched as he leaned closer, the heat of his body searing through my gown. The scent of him, smoke and leather, filled my senses. And the undeniable press of his erection against my stomach sent a jolt through me. 

This perverted man was enjoying my defiance. His grip tightened, a teasing hold that both frustrated and excited me. My body, traitor that it was, started to soften against him, a spark igniting beneath the embers of anger. 

“Have you had your fill of my company?” he whispered, his voice husky against my ear. His hands trailed down my arms, sending shivers skittering across my skin.

Every rational part of me screamed to break free, to run for the tunnels, to fight back. But the intoxication of his touch, the heat radiating from him, the suggestive murmur against my ear – they all conspired to trap me.

Before I could think, my head slowly turned from one side to the other. 

He hummed deeply. “Say it.”

Frustration warred with a strange vulnerability within me. My cheeks burned, and I clenched my jaw hard enough to taste blood. 

“I haven't.”

“You haven't what?”

Fury flickered back to life, fueled by his smug grin and the realization of how easily he’d manipulated me. 

“I haven't had enough,” I gritted out, the words a reluctant surrender. 

A growl of satisfaction escaped him before he grasped me by my throat, pushed me back against the wall, and tasted my next breath on his tongue. 

His lips, hot and demanding, devoured mine like a beggar, silencing the gasp that threatened to escape. Heat, a wildfire erupting at the junction of our bodies threatened to consume me. Fury, a simmering ember, still flickered within. I shoved against his chest and stomped on his feet; futile attempts against his unyielding form.

“Gaomagon vīlībagon nyke daor,” (Do not fight me) he said roughly against my lips, nipping at the bottom one. “Kesā botagon daor.” (You would not survive)

I didn’t understand him, and it urged on my fury. I opened my mouth with a quip in mind, but he used that opportunity to slide his tongue inside, hot and wet. The anger threatened to drown the blossoming desire, creating a tempestuous war within. I panted, torn between resistance and a strange, unfamiliar need, a fever writhing and pulsing inside my veins. My hands clenched in the rough leather of his doublet, a desperate attempt to maintain some sort of control. 

I closed my teeth on his bottom lip, and he hissed sharply, encircling my throat with his hand, pushing me against the stone. 

“Kelītīs,” (Stop) he growled.

The question of whether he even realized he was speaking High Valyrian was a fleeting thought. I melted into his rough hold, to his wicked mouth crashing against mine again and again, getting lost in the hot glide of his tongue. His rough kisses, the frantic press of his body, all contrived to unravel my carefully constructed defenses. A soft moan escaped my lips as my nipples brushed against his chest, sending sparks lower. He groaned low in his throat, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth.

With practiced ease, he untied the strings of my dress, letting the fabric pool around my ankles. I stood there in only my kirtle, breathless under his heated gaze. A dark groan rumbled from his chest as he slipped his hands beneath my thighs, effortlessly lifting me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. His grip tightened on my bare flesh, a touch too rough, and I retaliated with another yank on his silver hair. An angry sound erupted in his throat as he attempted to shake off my grip. 

He carried us to the bed, the world tilting on its axis as he settled me on top of him. Our mouths met in a frantic clash, a tangle of tongues and heated breaths. We tore away from each other briefly, just long enough for him to pull my kirtle over my head.

Naked and exposed, I felt a shiver dance across my skin under the intensity of his gaze. Something dark moved through his eye, and my skin prickled with goosebumps.

He gripped the swell of my hips, his palms sliding upward, a slow exploration that sent sparks igniting in my blood. The fight drained from me, replaced by a heavy languor. His fingers, surprisingly gentle for a cold-blooded killer, traced patterns across my skin, before cupping my breasts into a rough grip. A soft moan escaped my lips as his thumb brushed a nipple, and pleasure rushed to my core. He leaned in and closed his mouth over a peak, drawing it in with a slow, gentle suck. My head fell back, a groan escaping my throat. My hands filtered into his thick silver, my fingers impulsively easing off the leather tie that kept it out of his face, and it went cascading around his features like spills of moonlight.

Awe mingled with desire as I watched him continue to explore my body, his mouth leaving a trail of wet heat across my skin. I cupped his sharp face in my hands, the rational, caged side of me screaming to tear him off me. I made weak, pitiful attempts to do so, but Aemond growled his disapproval and sucked my nipple hard. The wet heat of his mouth tugged between my legs as he moved to the other, flames curling low in my stomach. I ground down on him, my wet entrance dampening the dark leather of his breeches, the friction sending a delicious heat through my core. A moan ripped from his lips.

I was on fire, a confusing mix of desire and desperation clawing at me. I needed something more, something to push me over the edge. My body moved of its own accord, grinding harder, seeking that elusive release. 

He released my nipple with a graze of teeth that sent a jolt of white heat through me, and looked up at me with his eye dark like the storm.

“Skoros gaomagon jaelā?” (What do you crave?), he rumbled.

Exhaustion gnawed at me, but a visceral need pulsed deep within. “Please,” I pleaded, the word a ragged whisper escaping my lips, the frustration of the language barrier a dull ache compared to the firestorm raging in my core. “More,” I begged, grinding against his erection with desperate mewlings. 

When his hand lowered to palm my pussy, my skin caught on fire, burning me from scalp to toes. Desire inflated in my throat when he ran his hand up my neck, into my hair, grabbing a fistful and using it to arch my head back, his touch both possessive and arousing. 

“Is this what you desire?” he rasped against my throat, his voice husky with restrained passion. His calloused thumb began drawing circles on my clit, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent frustration battling with a rising tide of pleasure. 

I nodded desperately. “Yes,” I gasped.

He slipped two fingers into my wetness, and I arched my back, groaning in pleasure and a little pain, his fingers filling me up to the brim. My hands found purchase in his hair, anchoring myself as he moved his digits, flames of pleasure licking at my walls. 

Ecstasy unfurled in my veins like milk of the poppy, mind-numbing, delirious, as he slid his thick fingers in and out of me, rubbing a sensitive spot deep within. Hot pressure expanded, and my eyes rolled back in my head. A throaty moan escaped my lips with every thrust of his fingers and a delicious rumble rolled in his chest. 

His grip around my hair suddenly vanished and his thumb began rubbing circles on my clit as he fingered me. I cried out, the intensity overwhelming, and I braced myself on his leather-covered shoulders, a cold sweat starting beneath my skin.

“Sholīze,” (You’re so wet), he groaned against my skin, the word a brand that sent shivers lancing through me, the heat beneath the surface threatening to erupt. I rolled my hips on his fingers, and a satisfied growl escaped his mouth, his eye dropping to witness me riding his hand as my pleasure ran down his wrist, my leg and onto his lap. 

“Shkelagon zhēdys,” (You’re making a mess), he whispered into my mouth, swallowing my desperate cries. 

A third finger, bold and intrusive, slid inside, the added pressure sending me over the edge. My vision swam, black dots exploding at the edges. My heart pounded to the fire searing through every nerve in my body. Throaty moans tore from my lips over and over, as I clenched around his moving fingers. He groaned with dark satisfaction, encircling my waist, pressing me against him as I rode out my orgasm. 

The storm within me subsided slowly. His fingers, once urgent, now moved slowly in and out of me while I caught my breath and the ringing in my ears faded. He didn’t withdraw until he’d coaxed out the very last tremor of pleasure from my body. 

A languorous warmth, a deep sense of satiation unlike anything I’d ever known, bloomed within me.

Lost in the afterglow, I trailed kisses up his neck, small noises of contentment escaping my lips. 

“Gevie,” he panted, slipping his fingers out of me.

I knew that word.

Beautiful. 

AEMOND

I never thought the act of making an heir would be this… riveting. 

So much pure heat, flame and pleasure, fueled not just by my own desire, but by the sight of her pleasure burgeoning under my touch. It was a new prospect entirely. I could have reached my own release simply from witnessing hers. 

But this was not going to make an heir, after all.  

She ran her fingers over my erection, her lips and teeth teasing a line down my neck as she came down from her high. My hand, forearm and lap were slick from her sweet desire. 

She settled back into my lap, a vision of post-orgasmic bliss. Her eyes, usually bright and defiant, were now hooded with languid satisfaction, her cheeks flushed a becoming crimson. Her lips, slightly parted, breathed shallowly. I pushed my thumb between them, and she met the intrusion with a beckoning glide of her tongue, the wet heat settling in my groin. I pulled my thumb free, wiping the evidence of her touch across her lips. 

This woman, this force of nature, was mine. My wife.

Lightning played across her features like she was its master. Like she embodied the raw power of the storm. 

Untamed, fierce, fuckable.

She was molded just for me.

Her fingers, tracing a familiar path down my doublet, encountered the bulge straining against the fabric, my dick throbbing at her faintest touch.

“Take it off,” she said, working on the buckle. I reached my hands up my neck, loosening the doublet from my frame. 

“Do not attempt any strikes this time,” I drawled, a playful challenge in my voice. I relished the smile that spread across her lips.

“You have my word,” she said softly. 

The leather of my arms whispered down, discarded on the floor like a shed skin. Her eyes ignited with raw desire, a flickering flame that mirrored the inferno that had been building within me. Her fingers, hesitant at first, traced a path down my chest, my abs, further, until her hand slipped beneath my breeches and over the length of my dick. 

I hissed through my teeth. The heat, a branding iron searing flesh, intensified as her hand, unsure but determined, wrapped around my erection, heat curling at the base of my spine. Her hesitant touch grew more confident as she stroked me from base to head with smooth, gentle motions, sending a low groan rumbling from my chest. 

I grabbed her face and grazed her chin with my teeth, making her stroke me harder. “I’ll fill you with my seed, wife,” I growled, the words rough against her skin. A promise, a threat, a declaration of possession – all rolled into one.  

Her sigh held a hint of resignation, contrasting the fire in her eyes. “As long as you’ll leave me alone once you’re done,” she mumbled, the words laced with quiet defiance. 

Fury, a red-hot ember, flared within me. 

I threw her down on her knees on the bed and yanked her head back by her hair until her head rested against my shoulder. The vulnerability in her exposed throat fueled a dark avarice within me. My erection pressed against the heat of her ass, restraint becoming an impossible enemy. 

“You’re bound to me now,” I growled in her ear, the words a possessive vow. “You’re not going anywhere.”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips, a silent challenge that both frustrated and excited me. I leaned in, whispering a single word against her ear, “Ñuhon.” (Mine) I nipped her earlobe, making her hiss. 

When I released her, she sagged forward, head hanging low. Her shoulders slumped, and she lowered herself onto her hands, the curve of her backside a sight that ignited a fresh wave of heat within me. 

I discarded my breeches, the urgency a physical ache in my core. Kneeling behind her, I pushed two fingers inside of her. She clenched down on me so tightly. I groaned and pulled my fingers free. As I rubbed the head of my cock against her wet opening, the heat of it almost burned me. A tremble coasted throat her, and her fingers gripped the sheets, bracing herself. 

I eased into her, and, gods spare me, she was so fucking tense, to the point she nearly resisted me entirely. I caressed her ass, her hips, running my hand up and down her back, attempting to relax her, uttering words I scarcely knew were the Common Tongue or High Valyrian. 

“Vīrȳn (take it), you’re so fucking wet, gūrogon mirre yno (take all of me).”

Until her walls softened and I watched myself slide into her, until I was as deep as I could go.

Seven Hells. 

The feeling was overwhelming. The way she clutched me like a wet fist. Every cell in me ached for more, to fuck her hard, relentlessly, but I gave her a moment to adjust, squeezing her, running my hands all over her. 

Soon, she was rocking back against me, and I gave her what she wanted, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in, every inch of me vanishing. She groaned and dropped her face to the bed, fisting the sheets in her hands. I gripped the swell of her hips, guiding her warm, wet pussy onto my throbbing dick over and over, watching their salacious union, my sight darkening at the squelching sounds that ensued. A deep hum erupted from my chest.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes hooded with lust, settling on each lazy thrust. 

“Iksis ao bisa ijiōrtan?” (Is this pleasing you?) I rasped, but before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder. It occurred to me that she probably could not have understood what I’d been saying half the time. 

Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on her hand to quiet her moans sent a heady rush to my head, lighting me on fire. 

Thunder rolled overhead. 

I was completely lost in the heat of her, taking her hard, watching her ass bounce against me with every thrust. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against my chest.

She was panting, fucked into soft compliancy.

“To whom do you belong?” I growled in her ear.

She didn’t resist any of my advances this time. “You,” she breathed. 

“Say my name.”

“Aemond.”

“And who is your King?”

“Aemond.”

My grip snaked and tightened around her neck as I fucked her.

“Say it.”

“You’re the King, Your Grace,” she whined. “The first of your name.”

It set me on fire.

I pushed her back down and fucked her through her second orgasm, holding her hips up when her legs gave out. She shuddered and clenched around me, the pressure sending licking fires down my back, threatening to erupt. I gritted my teeth as I came inside of her, a white, hot fire shooting through me so hard, my vision went black.

My muscles shook from the aftershock.

I doubled over her, letting my forehead rest on her back as we came down. 

When I pulled out of her, I watched my seed leak out of her entrance like white tears. I plugged it with my fingers, burrowing deep inside of her, and she gasped.

“Dragonseed is precious,” I rumbled into her ear. “Would not want it to go to waste.” I kissed her temple.

“Tepagon aōha dārys iā dārilaros, dōna ābrazȳrys.” (Give your king an heir, sweet wife)

[xeno1queen]

Growing Strong With The Dragon - Part II

Aemond Targareyen x Tyrell!Reader

Summary: The wedding day has arrived, maybe the princess won't be as lonely anymore.

Warnings: No warnings, just a chill fic. No character description. Afab.

Authors Note: English is not my first language so the grammar might be a bit janked. After a quick search I found out that going from Highgarden to Kings landing by wheelhouse could take more than 2 months, wtf. Part I

After a long and brutal journey, you found yourself in front of the gate of the gods, a magnificent sight that signified the near end of your journey. As you passed through the city, you noticed that it smelled much worse than you imagined; Highgarden had never smelled this bad and was never this dirty. Once you reached the gates of the Red Keep, you sighed with relief; your horrible journey had finally ended. The loyal servants of the crown were quick to bring yours and your family's baggage to your assigned chambers. You had a small bedroom, much smaller than yours at home but comfortable nonetheless. You had arrived late in the day, so your new ladies-in-waiting helped you change into a more comfortable evening gown. You usually read before going to bed, but tonight things felt different. With the next day being your wedding day, you felt the anxiety from the day you met the prince return. Is he also nervous? Could he be thinking about you? Those questions plagued your mind into the late hours of the evening.

The day of the wedding arrived; your dress had been made by the seamstresses of King’s Landing with your exact measurements and it was a perfect fit. Your ladies-in-waiting woke you up early, and you didn't sleep much, but you weren't tired at all. You felt your heartbeat strong, and your palms sweaty as you got dressed and your hair done, it was braided in a lovely way. You wore a beautiful off-the-shoulders white dress with blue floral embroideries, and your favorite piece of jewelry was placed on your neck, a pearled necklace with the biggest sapphire in Westeros. Being pampered this way made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. You heard the chime of bells echoing throughout King’s Landing, signifying the wedding was about to begin. The sept was full of lords and ladies that you had never seen but heard much about. Prince Aemond felt nervous but didn't let a bit of that nervousness be shown to those outside his head.

As you entered the sept, everyone got quiet, and you could hear some gasps. It made you feel anxious for being the center of attention, but you also felt powerful. Everyone was there for you and for your prince’s marriage. You were escorted down the aisle by your father, who had a stoic look on his face. Once you reached the end of the aisle and got up the small set of steps, you were given away to your prince with a bow from your father. With you being so close to your soon-to-be husband, he finally noticed the blue stone you had on your neck. It was the same stone that was placed on his missing eye, to him, that felt like a message from the gods that you were meant to be his. Once in front of the Septon, Prince Aemond placed on your shoulders a cloak with the colors of his house and gave you a sincere smile, the first you had seen from him, and you returned his smile with one of your own as you were officially declared husband and wife with a grand applause of all the ladies and lords.

As you arrive in the grand hall for the feasting celebration, you hear drums and your family's name being proclaimed. You move though the filled corridor, everyone has gotten up and looked at you, but the only eye that matters to you is the one from the prince.

Once he saw you enter the throne room, he felt out of breath, almost as if he saw you for the first time again. He never liked the idea of marriage, but seeing you like that made him change his mind. You are going to be his forever.

You climbed the small set of stairs in front of the dining table. Prince Aemond got up and held your hand, softly kissing it as he led you to sit next to him.

As you were eating the appetizers, you felt an immense wave of anxiety as your hand held your dress. "Maybe if I drink more wine, the nervousness will dissipate," you thought to yourself as you emptied your cup. Prince Aemond noticed and he raised his hand asking for more wine for both of you. You looked at him with a soft smile in gratitude and you felt a hand creep under the table to where yours was holding your dress. You felt Prince Aemond's ungloved hand; it was soft, and his fingers were lean. He placed his hand on top of yours as a means to give you comfort in such a stressful moment and you felt your hand ease the pressure on your dress.

After a little while, both of you had to do the bridal dance. You were trained for this dance your whole life and even though you knew you were prepared, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Prince Aemond got up and gave you his hand so you two could go to the middle of the hall and dance. You felt everyone's eyes on you, but dancing made you feel free. You almost felt like you were flying with each spin of your gracious moves. Once the dance was finished, you both bowed, and everyone applauded while joining you in the middle of the room. You both danced together for a while until you were interrupted by another lord asking you for a dance. Seeing you dance with another lord made Aemond's blood boil with rage. Someone else touching what was his by right was not to his liking, so after letting you dance for a while, he swiftly made his return to you with a clenched jaw and grabbed you tightly by the waist. He pressed you against him, you had never experienced such intimacy before, as you were sheltered from men your whole life in means to keep your virtue. This new experience made you feel things you weren't used to; maybe it was the wine doing things to you, but you felt nervous in a different way. Aemond looked into your eyes as you were pressed against him and said, “You look beautiful, my wife.” You felt your whole body get hot. “Thank you, husband.” you answered with a soft smile of gratitude and nervousness on your lips. You couldn't leave each other for the rest of the dance, always making eye contact as if you both were connected. He knew he had made a lasting impression on you.

Taglist: @maddyb-rapps

[frost-queen]

Remember the oath // part 2 (Assasin!reader x Aemond Targaryen)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer @slythetic, @p0nycurtis

Summary: Jacerys reminds you of what needs to be done. Aemond has to die and it needs to be by your hands. With a plan you lure him to you only to receive more of his teasing. No matter what, you must kill Aemond Targaryen, but will you finally be able to or fail a second time? [series]

Candles flickered, casting shadows onto the stone walls behind you. Your breathing deep and extended to absorb as much air as you could in one take. Gaze staring in front of you at the candles. Your mind picturing him in front of you. Looking all smug and idiotic. No matter how many times you imagined killing him, it never did. As if he kept avoiding your swings. Each time you thought you’d stake his heart it ends up with his hands on your back.

His gaze fiercely staring through your core. Only to be one hot breath away from kissing him. No. In your mind you pushed the thought away, replaying the whole scenario again for a different outcome. Yet no matter how hard you tried, he always ended up kissing you. A kiss you were unable to get out of your head. Frustrating you that you couldn’t even take him down in your own daydream. No one ever had that power.

Three sturdy knocks on your door made you blink awake. Becoming aware of your surroundings once more. – “Yes.” – you answered for them to enter. The door opened as you were surprised by the outcome. You had expected to see your father, not Jacerys, your stepbrother. – “Y/n… can I come in?” – he asked even when you had already invited him in. – “Yes.” – you repeated as Jacerys entered your room. Closing the door behind him. You seated yourself better, making some room for him.

Jacerys came sitting beside you, coming to lean against you to your surprise. – “I can’t sleep…” – he said. The vulnerability strong in his voice. To be truthful, you hadn’t really been close to your stepbrothers. They were Rhaenyra’s children. Your stepmother’s. When your father married her they became family. But you had always been one for solitude. It was what worked best in your field of work. Now seeing your little stepbrother leaned up against you, did something to you.

Dropping your arm, it draped over him. – “How so?” – you asked, but could hint for the answer. He missed Lucerys. He missed his older brother. Jacerys looked up to you with puffy eyes. Unable to answer your questions. It stirred up a motherly feeling inside of you, you didn’t know you had. Shushing Jacerys gently, you pulled him closer into your embrace.

Brushing your fingers through his hair. – “I won’t let anything happen to you.” – you whispered to him. Jacerys let out a deep breath, snuggling up to you. He closed his eyes as it didn’t take him long to find comfort in your arms. Moving your gaze towards the open balcony where the moon was set high. There was no questioning about it. Aemond had to be punished. For the sake of your family. You need to kill him.

The morning glow crept through as it awoke you. A beam of warmth shining on your face. Moving a bit restless, you slowly woke up. Jacerys still secure in your arms. You squeezed him a bit tighter to you as a promise. A promise that you would avenge Lucerys just as you had promised.

A knock on the door startled you as a moment later your father entered. – “Y/n.” – he said loud storming in. When his gaze fell on Jacerys in your arms, he became silent. Staring at the display for a moment. You gently started to wake him up. – “Jacerys.” – you said softly with a few nudges. – “It is time to wake up stepbrother.” – lifting his head a bit up.

He started to wake up, adjusting to the light. He gasped startled by the sudden presence of Daemon. His hand resting on the handle of his sword by his side. Jacerys looked back at you as you nodded, setting him off gently. Jacerys got up, bowing to Daemon.

Daemon gave him a nod back. He then ran off to return to his chambers. Daemon quirked his eyebrow up when you got up with a heavy sigh. – “Don’t even comment on it.” – you warned him knowing he’d say something tacky. Moving towards the table, you poured yourself some water.

“I wasn’t.” – your father responded coming to stand by your side. – “Family is what is important now. Family is what keeps us strong.” – he commented as you set your cup down. – “I’ll kill him.” – you said out loud. – “A body for a body.” – you finished staring in front of you. Your father was a man of few words.

He simply dropped his hand on your shoulder. Giving it a few pats before leaving. Exhaling loud, you lowered your head. Wondering how you’d finish him off. Last time he had outsmarted you. Aemond was no fool, knowing you might try again. 

For the next couple of days, you isolated yourself. It was something you always did when you needed to focus. Prepare your assassination to the smallest detail. It had to be thought through. At any point you needed to be able to escape. You needed him alone, somewhere vulnerable. Somewhere where he’d not expect you.

Letting the dagger twirl between your fingers, there was only room for morbid thoughts. Imagining his body being dragged through mud as you return home. All pettiness stripped from him. His chest crimson red with blood. For where once was his heart, would be nothing but a hollow gap. For it could never make Jacery’s heart full again.

Before the morning glow had fully set, were you off. Leaving your home behind to go hunt for perhaps the trickiest of beast amongst all. Instead of going to him. You needed to lure him to you. Somewhere away from Kingslanding. You rode deeper into the woods on horseback. Never having been able to tame a dragon was a disadvantage now. Perhaps it was because your mother was no Targaryen.

You rode till you were far enough. Dismounting, you tied your horse’s reigns up. Moving further away, you knelt down. Touching the damp grass and moss between your fingers. Taking out a match, you let it burn. Watching the flame, flickering in the reflection of your eyes. – “Dracarys.” – you whispered before dropping the match onto the ground. Stepping back, you watched as the grass started to catch fire.

It didn’t take long for the small spark to emerge into larger flames. Scorching the ground. You watched it burn feeling the immense heat from it. A few dragon’s wings would’ve been helpful now. Instead you ran to your horse, taking out a blanket. Coming back closer to the fire, flapping it towards it. Needing it to create smoke. Smoke that rose higher and higher and outstretch the tallest trees.

Grey smoke gassed up as it made you cough loud. Returning to your horse, you fetched the satchel with water. Dimming the flames till nothing. The ground in ash and ruin. Smoke kept swirling up as you hoped it would lure him in. If only to investigate what had happened. Taking the reigns of your horse, you drove off. Aemond didn’t need to see your horse.

Climbing up into a tree, you made your way closer to the scorched ground from tree to tree. Coming to sit in position. Well hidden between the greenery. For all you had to do now was hide. Hide and wait for him to take the bait. The loud roars of a beast made you lift your head up. Taking your dagger out at the sound of wings flapping.

Letting them be carried by the wind. Peeking through the greenery, you spotted a dragon. Circling above you, above the scorched ground. Perhaps to have a proper look before dropping down. The dragon roared again as it dived down. Setting her feet forwards as they thumped hard onto the ground. The beast retracting her wings to the side. Her rider dismounting. Aemond.

Curling up a smile, you were pleased to see him. Cheeks flushed as you were reminded of the kiss once more. Gripping tightly onto the daggers handle, you forced the thoughts out of your head. You were here for one purpose only and that was to kill Aemond. You watched as Aemond neared the scorched ground.

Kneeling down as he touched it with his hand. His hand pulled back. The ground was still warm. It was fresh. It made him glance wary to the side. His hand going slowly to the handle of his sword by his side. Slowly he rose, keeping his back towards you, unaware that you were in hiding. Aemond spun around, sword taken out as he pointed it in front of him. He started to look around, pointing his sword at every given direction.

When he was facing his dragon, he took a deep breath. A faint smell in the air. It made him curl up a smirk. Looking over his shoulder as he slowly returned his sword to his waist. – “I didn’t know you were still at it.” – he said out loud with a smirk. – “Halfblood.” – he added teasingly. You dropped down from the tree with your dagger in your hand. Pointing it at him you glared foul at him. – “Ah.” – Aemond said humorously turning more towards you.

He opened his hands to you to show you that he was right here. You ran up to him, slicing your dagger at him. Aemond jumped back, easily avoiding the sharp tip. You swung at him again as he dodged without any efforts to the side. – “I thought we were over this.” – he chuckled out dodging another one of your slashed. You only grunted in return. You slashed up and down but he was light on his feet. – “I don’t mind a bit of foreplay halfblood.” – he teased with a smirk.

You groaned loud, running up to him. Aemond spun around, avoiding your dagger. He then gave you a kick against your bottom, making you fall forwards onto the ground. He approached you, hand on the handle of his sword. – “Had enough?” – he asked slightly bored. Tensing your jaw, you set your fists down to pull yourself up. Aemond pushed you back down with his foot. Sighing loud. – “This is tiring Halfblood.” – he spoke as you rolled over. Aemond held his hand out to you. Panting loud, you looked up to him.

Heart beating warmly for him as you couldn’t seem to keep it down. Aemond rolled his eye when you wouldn’t accept his hand. He leaned down, grabbing you by the wrist. With a hard pull, you were up on your feet. Bumping against his chest as he moved his arm quick behind your back to lock you in. You tried to struggle against his grip as he could only smirk.

“I’ll kill you!” – you called out with annoyance. Aemond kept smiling, sneaking a quick kiss on your nose in. It caught you off guard, making you blink with a flutter. – “No you won’t.” – he responded. His gaze lowering to your lips. Gently leaning in as he kissed your lips. Letting yourself be led away, you kissed him back. Eyes suddenly widening at what you were doing. Shoving him off you, you stumbled back.

Aemond genuinely seemed heartbroken that you had pushed him away. – “I will not be distracted by you again.” – you told him. Aemond looked briefly away. You retrieved your dagger from the ground, standing ready. The earth thundered beneath your feet as the dragon behind you moved. Beak opening as a thundering roar hit you from behind. Nearly making you stumble forwards. Aemond rose his hand to calm her. Her breath already hot with fire. Her gaze fixated on the dagger in your hand. – “Vhagar!” – Aemond shouted to tame his dragon.

She disobeyed as her throat became hotter. You could feel the warmth from behind. Making you slowly turn to face the beast. Fear made your eyes widen as she readied herself to spew her fire at you. Aemond gasped loud, gaze lowering onto you. He started running. Arms wrapping around you as he shoved you aside. Vhagar’s fire right above your heads as it burned the trees in front of you.

Aemond laying on top of you to protect you from her fire. Vhagar’s fire died out as she closed her mouth. Aemond slowly lifted his head up. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked panting loud. You shoved him off you, Aemond rolling over to his back. – “Your dragon tried to kill me!” – you shouted at him nearly losing your mind over it. Aemond came sitting up. – “Only because you tried to kill me!” – he shouted back.

You got up, dusting your clothing off. Aemond getting up as well. You heard loud neighs, making you squint your eyes. In the distance you saw that your horse had snapped itself free. The fire probably having scared it. Now your horse was running off with loud neighs. – “Oh just great.” – you said sarcastically.

“Your dragon scared my ride away.” – you accused pointing at his dragon. Aemond curled up a smile. – “Should I offer you a ride back home, princess?” – he took a dramatic bow making you roll your eyes at him. – “If you wish to have your head delivered on a silver platter, than yes.” – you replied. – “No gold, that is a shame.” – he teased in return.

You scoffed loud, turning on your heel. Aemond launched forwards, grabbing you by your wrist. With one pull you spun back to him. Bumping against his chest as his hands wrapped around your waist. – “Aemond let me go!” – you insisted upon as he could only smirk. – “Say please.” – he answered feeling smug. You gave him a shove as it only made you stumble even closer to him.

Having sunken a bit in his embrace. Gaze going upwards, his breath was hot on your face. – “Are you planning on killing me more?” – he asked, tilting his head a bit. You nodded mesmerized by his gaze.  – “Good.” – he responded tilting your chin up by his finger. – “For I’d be terribly disappointed if you didn’t.” – he whispered leaning in more. His breath hot on your lips.

It made you swallow nervously. Yearning for his touch. Exhaling deep into his mouth, he curled up a smile before breaking the gap. Kissing your lips yearningly. Pulling your upper body a bit more up to have you stand sturdy on your feet. Vhagar blew air from out of her nostrils at Aemond and you. It made him retrieve his lips with an annoyed expression.

“Fine!” – he told her a bit annoyed. He lowered his hands on you, stepping back. Aemond mounted Vhagar again. – “You better start walking princess, if you wish to be home before diner.” – he chuckled out. You groaned loud turning on your heel. Walking off. Biting your lip softly, you dared to look back even though you promised yourself you wouldn’t.

Turning your head, you saw Aemond still watching you. Elbows resting on his saddle to admire you. – “Just go!” – you shouted at him with a wave of your hand. – “Before I kill you.” – you added teasingly. It made him chuckle. Straightening his posture he signalled Vhagar to lift off. The wind of her wings nearly knocking you out of balance. Regaining your balance, you kept walking. Swallowing nervously as you had once again failed miserably at your task. For you still needed to avenge the death of Lucerys.

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