#aemond targaryen x tully!reader

[lady-pug]

The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers

Chapter I - Wherever We Go, A Hundred Eyes Follow

Summary: Aemond seeks you out so you can go on your first study "date" together, but you have yet to speak to Oscar about what happened the previous night and the agreement you made. But as things go better than expected, you might just end up attracting more attention than you'd prefer

Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader

Word count: 3,4k

Warnings: none

Notes: Oof, okay here we are, finally! I wanted to get this done sooner but got caught up in a lot of stuff and ended up writing quite slowly, BUT I did manage to get it out before the year ended so that is that.

I’m quite excited for this story, and have quite a bunch of ideas for where I’m going with this. The only thing I think is worth adding in terms of additional context for this chapter is that I decided to keep the fact that the Targaryens are dragonlords and can ride dragons. But because of that I cannot add any dragons to the Tournament Tasks, as it would be seen as unfair and possibly count as an advantage to Aemond.

Anyway, as always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, happy holidays, and I’ll see you all next year! Enjoy!

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You were fucked. There was no sugarcoating it. You were absolutely fucked.

After Aemond had left the library, leaving you behind to pick your jaw off the floor, you headed straight to the Hufflepuff common room. You were determined to tell Oscar everything that had happened down to a T, but you took one look at him, staring at you with that sweet and hopeful gaze and immediately chickened out, opting to quickly retreat to the girls dorm where he couldn’t reach you.

And now as you headed for breakfast you knew you should have told him. You had agreed to breakfast with Aemond, which meant he would come find you and Oscar would find out you had agreed to Aemond’s stupid plan when you had promised him you wouldn’t. Perhaps it would be easier to search for Aemond directly at the Slytherin table, that way you could stave off the inevitable conversation you would need to have with your brother. 

But he was nowhere to be found. Not at the Slytherin table, nor those of the other houses. Not even near the professor’s table where he would sometimes walk up to in order to strike up conversation with one professor or another (what they talked about was beyond you, no matter how curious it made you). He was absolutely nowhere to be seen, throwing a wrench in your plans to intercept him before he could find you.

Resigned, you walked slowly to the Gryffindor table where Davos and your brothers were already seated. Considering that both Cregan and Alysanne were also seated at their house’s table, quite a few seats down from the three boys, you suspected Kermit and Davos had chosen to seat there for your sake, to simultaneously keep the couple out of your sight and avoid a situation like the night before but also not to force you to stay within close proximity of them. You were thankful really, while Cregan was not the first thing on your mind at the moment it still stung to see them being happy together.

“Hey!” Kermit greeted you, his mouth full of sausage “How are you on this fine morning?”

You knew he was trying to divert your attention from some people, and while it wasn’t entirely working, you were grateful for his attempt, for him. For all of them.

“Eh,” you shrugged trying to appear nonchalant while taking a seat across from him and Kermit “could be better.”

Oscar waited until you were comfortable next to him and had already filled up your plate before leaning ever closer to you.

“So, how was it?” he spoke, his voice low.

“How was what?”

Oscar scoffed, a deadpan stare thrown your way.

“You know, the whole thing with Targaryen?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, fear gripping at it as you pondered your answer. Oscar was going to be so disappointed when he found out. God, you didn’t want to lose the respect of one of the few people who you had left. You sighed, deciding it was better to tell him now than let him figure it out on his own later.

“Uhm, actually-” you started, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

“Lads,” Aemond’s voice cut you off, your name rolling smoothly off his tongue before pointing to the spot on the bench next to you “is this seat taken?”

He didn’t even wait for an answer, already sliding in next to you way closer than necessary as the boys stared at him flabbergasted, their jaws dropping. Oscar was the only one who got over his surprise quickly, his eyes narrowing in your direction in a way you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind.

“Targaryen.” Kermit greeted coldly “You seem a bit lost, the snakes’ table is over there.” 

“Tully,” Aemond answered in kind, although his tone carried less venom in comparison “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“And what could you possibly want here?” Davos chimed in.

Through their whole exchange you couldn’t properly focus, the feeling of Aemond sitting way too close to you pulling your attention away from the conversation at hand. His leg was flush with yours on the bench, the entire length of his thigh pressed against yours and his shoulder bumping into your own pulling your whole focus towards him.

“We are heading to Professor Orwyle’s class then we are going to study together.” your attention was pulled back into focus as Aemond said your name.

“You two? Study together?” Oscar was still more skeptical than Kermit and Davos.

“Yes,” the Slytheirn boy shrugged, nonchalantly, and for a moment you feared he was going to reveal your whole ruse but he surprised you even further “I promised to help her with her History of Magic studies and, in turn, she’ll help me brainstorm ideas for the first task of the Tournament.” 

Oscar seemed unconvinced but let it slide in favor of eating his breakfast in peace, but one glare from him in your direction let you know that you had a lot of explaining to do later on. Your twin and your cousin seemed to get distracted by the mention of the Triwizard Tournament, starting to animatedly argue about past editions (or, in Kermit’s case, sulk, as he had applied for the Tournament and eventually lost the role of Hogwarts’ champion to Aemond, something he was still somewhat resentful about).

You tried going back to your breakfast, hell bent on not attracting any more attention back to yourself and your current incredibly awkward situation, but that quickly went out the window when Aemond leaned even closer to you, his breath fanning your ear.

“It seems Stark and his new girl are staring.” he whispered, and you could tell from his voice alone that his lips were turned up in a smirk.

And true to his word, both Cregan and Alysanne were staring at your little group, more specifically you and Aemond. Alysanne seemed a little weirded out by the whole exchange, but ultimately shrugged, going back to her cuppa. Cregan on the other hand looked positively bothered by the sight, his eyes narrowing even further as Aemond cheekily bumped his shoulder against yours, as if he had simply whispered a funny joke to you.

As much as you loathed to admit, and even though it went completely against what you had told Aemond last night, a bittersweet satisfaction started growing in your chest at the reaction you elicited from your ex-boyfriend. While you didn’t wish to make him jealous, you truly wanted nothing to do with the guy anymore, you didn’t mind shoving in his face that you had already moved on from him, that his actions didn’t bother you at all (even though in reality they did). 

“I would say our little… plan is already working, don’t you agree?” Aemond continued whispering, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You hummed in agreement, finishing the rest of your breakfast in silence. You’d occasionally see Oscar glancing at you quizzically from the corner of your eye but he didn’t say anything else. You felt awful hiding things from him, but what could you do? Come clean to your brothers and cousin and just hope the rest of the Gryffindor table simply didn’t hear a thing? No, the less people knew your little stunt with Aemond was a ruse the better. You’d tell him later that night.

After you were both done eating, Aemond pulled you up and out of the Great Hall, regardless if your brother Kermit, who was usually your partner for Potions class, wasn’t finished yet.   

“I’m sure he can partner up with Bracken for today’s class, can’t you Tully?” he asked, knowing full well your brother truly disliked Aeron on behalf of Davos.

You felt eyes on you all the way down to the dungeons; people from every house were staring at the two of you, the way Aemond’s palm rested on you just shy of the small of your back, pushing, no, guiding you forward. If this was an indicative of a pattern that would remain present the rest of your time together, you just knew it was going to be a long day.

It was, indeed, a long day. 

During Professor Orwyle’s class the hairs on the back of your neck refused to go back to their usual position, a prickling sensation on the back of your mind telling you everyone was staring at you. And it wasn’t just your self-consciousness making things up in your head: more than once you caught another student glancing your way, quickly averting their gaze once they realized they’d been caught. The only one who was brave enough to keep on staring even after being noticed was Maris Baratheon, and by the glint in her eye you simply knew it couldn’t mean anything good. 

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that being in the spotlight brought you. And Aemond? He didn’t seem to give a flying fuck.

“Stop fidgeting,” he said, completely unbothered as he led you through the hallways towards the library. The walk had been made even longer than usual for he had to take a detour to grab something from the Slytherin common room, giving other students ample opportunity to continue their scrutiny.

“Everyone is looking at us.” you spoke, voice lowered to try not to attract more attention to yourself.

“No, they aren’t.” he said, walking between rows of bookshelves and collecting an assortment of different books.

“Yes, they are!” you said in an exasperated whisper, trying to keep your voice down in order to not attract any attention from Professor Strong, the librarian (though rumor has it his true ambition was taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class over his brother).

“Then just don’t mind them.” he shrugged, turning around towards you and placing the ever growing pile of books on your arms with a sigh “Look, let them stare. The more people see us together, the more believable it becomes. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

No, that’s what you wanted! you thought, but given your feelings towards Cregan’s reaction this morning you knew he was right.

“Now stop worrying and go find us a table, I’ll be there in a second.” he was off before you could question him further, leaving you to carry the books to the nearest table.

Aemond returned quickly enough, carrying yet another book with him. This one though was unlike any you had ever seen before, its hardcover weathered, either from old age or from excessive use you couldn’t tell.

“What is that?” you nodded towards his hands.

He placed the tome on the table as he sat down in front of you, staring at you quizzically.

“A book?” 

“I’m not stupid, dragonbrain, I know it’s a book!” you snapped at him, offended “I just meant which book.”

He hummed, amused at your snippiness, and pushed the book towards you.

‘Secrets Of The Dark Arts And How To Spot Them, by Archmaester Gyldayn.’ the cover read, and something dawned on you.

“This is from the Restricted Section.” you stated, to which he hummed in agreement, not bothering with a verbal response “How did you even get this?”

Aemond stared at you then, really stared at you, his one good eye settling on your face with such an intensity you had to look away. Something in the way he looked at you intimidated you now, whereas in the past, before, you felt safe under his gaze. Seen.

“I asked Mister Strong to open the Restricted Section for me.” he said casually, breaking his intense stare to flip over the pages of one of the other books he had selected.

“And he did? Just like that?”

His lips curled in the tiniest of smirks, but something about it felt… wrong. Bitter almost.

“The perks of dating his much younger step-sister I guess.” 

Ah. 

That made sense. You always suspected Alys Rivers was related to Professors Harwin and Larys Strong, but could never make the connection. 

“Okay,” he stopped flipping the book, seemingly having found the page he was looking for. You weren’t going to probe any further, but if you had any intentions to, this was his way of signaling the previous conversation was over “We’ll start from the beginning.”

Glancing at the open book he turned towards you, you caught a glimpse of a familiar painting, three white-haired siblings atop their dragons with their wands raised.

“The Conquest?” you questioned, pulling the book from his hands “That’s First Year material.” 

“I know, but it’ll be easier to catch up on the more recent content if you have a stronger base.” he explained, and although all he was saying made sense, it still vexed you somewhat.

“But I already know all of this!” you whined, immediately regretting it, for it made you feel childish. Once upon a time you had been sure he wouldn’t judge you for such a thing, but now? You barely knew him anymore.

“I know for a fact you doze off in almost all of Professor Mello’s classes.” he replied, smugly. 

Something weird, a feeling you couldn’t quite place, stirred in your chest at the thought of him noticing you in class, but you quickly brushed it off.

“I didn’t pick this up from Mello’s class.” you countered, and his face fell for a moment.

Your summers leading up to your First Year were more often than not spent in the Targaryen’s household. At the time you were quite close with two of the white-haired siblings, Aegon considering himself too old for your childish antics and Daeron too young to join in yet. At the time you’d even go as far as to call Aemond your best friend, before Helaena inevitably took the title after… everything. Back then, he’d spend his days showing you paintings and illustrations of his ancestors, of Aegon I and his sister-wifes arriving from Old Valyria and founding Westeros as it was known today. Although the Targaryen family lost a lot of their former glory (even though they remained quite influential still), it was clear Aemond was proud of his roots, a glint in his eye whenever he mentioned most people from his bloodline.

He grew silent, as he couldn’t deny what you were saying. You wondered if you were wrong to bring this up, for you felt incredibly unprepared to open this specific can of worms right now, but it seemed the feeling was mutual, as he grabbed the book from your hands and propped it up on the table, the pages facing him so you wouldn’t peek.

“Alright then. If you say you already know all of this,” he smirked once more, and you started rethinking your choices leading up to this moment “how about a pop quiz?”

It wasn’t as bad as you were expecting. You managed to get through the whole of The Conquest without fumbling, all the way to when Aegon defeated the dark wizard Harren the Black in his castle, Harrenhal (which some believe was demolished, and Hogwarts was built on top of its ruins). After that point, though, the details started getting a little confusing, your mind jumbling dates and locations into an incomprehensible mess inside your head. Aemond then promised to help you study from then on out, little by little, three times a week.

“We have till the end of the year to turn you into a History of Magic expert,” he had said.

“Till Christmas, you mean.” you pointed out, remembering your previous agreement, to which he shrugged, humming a ‘whatever you say’ under his breath.

You started collecting your things, but paused when he didn’t follow suit, only picking up another book from the pile. Herbology.

“That’s certainly… an interesting selection.” you commented, only now noticing the different subjects all the books covered.

“I have some research to do.” he said, not taking his eyes off the page.

Something he had said earlier came to the front of your mind.

“She’ll help me brainstorm ideas for the first task of the tournament.” 

“Is it about the first task?” you questioned, genuinely curious.

He hummed in agreement.

“Do you have any idea what it will be about?”

He shook his head with a sigh, finally looking up at you.

“I do have a hunch, but it’s fickle. A hypothesis really.”

“Do you need any help ‘brainstorming ideas’?” you quoted him.

He chuckled, amused. 

“Next time perhaps. You did well today, you deserve your rest.” your cheeks felt warm under the praise, and you had to look away from him for a moment “But I will be taking you up on that offer. If I remember correctly, you used to be quite good at solving puzzles.”

It was strange, really, how much he still knew about you even after so long without speaking to one another. You’d have to get used to it again.

After saying your goodbyes you headed back to the Hufflepuff common room, a light feeling in your chest. The ‘study date’ had gone well, not at all as bad as you had predicted it would be, unashamed stares from other students aside. But then a cold, bitter guilt replaced that nice feeling, damping your mood slightly.

You had to tell Oscar. He deserved to know.

Feeling determined, then, you entered the common room, resolute in looking for your brother. But, (un)fortunately, you didn’t have to look very far, for you found him sitting in one of the couches facing the entrance of the common room, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

“How was your study date with Aemond Targareyn?” he questioned, his voice hard.

Panicking, you gripped his upper arm, not minding his yelps of pain as you pulled him to a distant corner, away from the other students.

“It wasn’t a date.” you hissed.

“No?” his voice held a hint of sarcasm “Because Kermit said you two were awfully close in class-” 

“It wasn’t a real study date.” you interrupted him, keeping your voice down and mentioning for him to do the same.

“How so?” he still seemed mad, but at least now he was whispering as well “You just pretended to study?”

“No, the studying part was real.” you averted your eyes from him, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment “It was the date part that was fake.”

“Again, how so?”

Time to come clean.

“Yesterday Aemond asked me to…” it sounded stupid now that you said it outloud “pretend we’re going out together. And it will culminate in me being his date to the Yule Ball.”

“What?!” he squeaked, and you shushed him, worried about people overhearing your conversation “So he wants you to be his pretend girlfriend?” 

“Something like that, yeah.”

“And you agreed?!” 

“I panicked, alright?!” you already felt stupid enough about your decisions without him scolding you like a child.

“What does he even get out of this?” he asked, exasperated “And what about Alys Rivers?”

“His admirers backing off, I think. And apparently they broke up over summer.” his jaw dropped “I know, surprised me too.”

His face softened a fraction, finally getting over the shock.

“And what’s in it for you?” his tone dripped concern, and you felt your heart clenching with love for your younger brother.

“I-I’m not sure, exactly. To show Cregan I’m no longer hung up on him? To prove to people I’m not pathetic?”

“You are not pathetic.”

“Sometimes feels like I am.” you shrinked into yourself a bit “You know how much it hurt.”

Oh, he knew. He was the one who found you after you had read Cregan’s letter, curled into a ball on your bed, clutching the roll of parchment to your chest as tears steadily ran down your cheeks. 

“I know.” he placed a gentle hand on your arm “But do you think this is a good idea? This is Aemond Targaryen we’re talking about.”

You smiled at his worried face, ruffling his hair.

“I can look after myself, you know.” you grinned at the grimace that covered his face as he tried to fix the mess that you had made of his locks “It wasn’t all that bad today. And besides, it’s only until Christmas.”

He still seemed hesitant, but slowly nodded.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful with him.”

Your grin softened, pulling him in for a comforting hug.

“I promise.”

He squeezed you back and you knew everything would turn out okay in the end. You just had to endure it until Christmas. 

Right?

Tag List:

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@bey0nd-1he-stars

[getyouanearthygirl]

Game of Thrones House Aesthetics:

House Stark 🐺

House Lannister 🦁

House Arryn 🪽

House Tyrell 🌹

House Martell ☀️

House Baratheon 🦌

House Tully 🐟

House Targaryen 🐉

House Greyjoy 🦑

[anyarose011]

Anya's Totally Bitchin Masterlist

"Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call"

{Angus Tully x Reader} ->The Holdovers

Summary: Being stuck at the snooty, all-boys school your father works at is NOT how you wanted to spend Christmas (especially with Angus Tully...asshole). Still, the Winter of 1970 leading into 1971 is one you will not forget. A stubborn teenager, a professor with a stick up his ass, a woman with a heart of gold, and a mini feminist who's pissed at everyone 99% of the day (yours truly)...what could go wrong?

Tropes/keywords: Academic Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Young Love, Mystery, Hurt/Comfort, Feel Good, CHRISTMAS, and Found Family.

Chapter 1: "Bah, Humbug!" Chapter 2: "You're a Mean One, Miss Hunham" Chapter 3: "Emotional Motion Sickness" Chapter 4: "Too Late to Turn Back Now" Chapter 5: "One More Reason to Control Myself" Chapter 6: "December Never Felt So Wrong" Chapter 7: "Christmas Time is Here" Chapter 8: "The Most 'Wonderful' Time of the Year" Chapter 9: "Dimensions" Chapter 10: Coming Soon

"The Woman at the Well"

{Aemond Targaryen x Reader} -> House of the Dragon: Season 2

Summary: You allowed men to follow you in the dark for a living. One night, a man you never expected (nor wanted) to do so did just that. Over the weeks to come, you become...more acquainted with him. Still, despite how fun it is to dance with dragon fire, one must do their best to remember the chances of being burnt.

Tropes/keywords: Strangers to Friends to Lovers to Strangers (again), Mostly Angst, Little Hurt/Comfort, Somewhat Toxic Love, This story has a happy ending (but not in the way you'd expect)

Chapter 1: "There Must Be Something in the Water" Chapter 2: "Crawling Back to You" Chapter 3: "Nursing on the Poison that Never Stung" Chapter 4: "I Would Not Change it Each Time"

"The Favorite"

{Emperor Geta x Reader x Lucius} -> Gladiator II Summary: Once a lowborn girl of Rome, now a favored slave of Emperor Geta, hope at reclaiming your life comes when the return general Acacius brings Rome to a weeks' worth of entertainment.

Tropes/keywords: Minor Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marriage of Convenience [Lucius], Slavery/Abuse [Geta], Reader is Sansa Stark coded, Scheming, Action, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, and Reader knows how to play the game [and not at the same time].

Chapter 1: "Et tu, Brute?" Chapter 2: "Agape"

[mysticalcatpeanut]

Rhaenyra tried to avoid bloodshed at all costs, she showed mercy, she tried to reason with the enemy, she literally infiltrated the city to have peace. All legitimacy of the Greens' claim was undone in seconds and Rhaenyra realizes that there is no other way forward than war.

Alicent's face when she realized that he misunderstood Viserys. He was talking about the Conqueror and not about his son. Which means that the greens' claim to the throne is flawed from origin.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Muña Masterlist

Series summary: In which you find yourself caught in a deadly game of tug of war between two dragons. Daemon, your husband, and Aemond, the man who promises to make you a widow.

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader. Eventual triad?

Warnings: MILF! Reader. Tully! Reader. Smut. Mommy kink. Bullying (Daemon to wife, think bronze bitch levels) Infidelity (Reader cheats on Daemon with Aemond) Unhealthy conflict resolution.

A/N: I was waiting for someone to enjoy my drama filled fic, and then decided I was the one who had to enjoy it.

Pt 1: Muña

At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.

Pt 2: Ābrazȳrys

Daemon arrives at Riverrun.

Pt 3: Taoba

Daemon and Aemond settle their pending score.

[xxnymeriatargaryenxx]

oh to be manhandled and pounded roughly by a stark 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[cxce15]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SPOILERS

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Now who the fuck lied and Cregan was going to make an appearance

Episode was good overall

I just felt it was too short and I wanted to Rhaena claim the dragon

But overall no complaints

But I'm pissed that there was no Cregan so who lied

I just wanna talk

Plus Addam looked mighty fine so get them fanfics ready now

Baela & Jace ( I love them your honor )

Daemon finally coming to his senses jesus christ

Simon Strong being the loyal king he his

I love him

Alys Rivers queen

I don't like Ulf ( he's definitely going to be the one to betray Rhaenyra )

Fuck Aemond for hurting Helaena

Fucking psychopath

I wish I got to see some Oscar Tully humbling Daemon one last time

Anyway goodbye to House Of The Dragon Sundays for another two years yall

I'll continue to make posts about it of course but I'm going to miss doing it after every episode

[damn-stark]

Chapter 34 Erasing myself from the narrative

Chapter 34 of Moonlight

A/N- 🤭

Warning- ptsd, ANGST!!!, swearing, talks of blood, and death. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

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

Episode/Pages- 561-578

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

If you close your eyes now, as you twist your son's hair in between your fingers, you can still remember the whiffs of your mother's sweet perfume hitting your nose as she stood behind you. You remember her warmth that radiated off her body and embraced you, providing a comfort only a mother could. You remember the gentle touch of your mother's soft and delicate hands as she carefully gripped strands of your hair and braided them herself.

She was the King's heir so she tried to keep herself busy to learn everything an heir should, but she always took time out of her day to braid your hair. She made it her mission to learn how to braid so your hair would be protected.

It’s been years since then, but you remember it all as if you had lived it yesterday.

Sometimes after a good night's sleep, as you stir awake you believe for a flicker of a second that you’re still there, in the Red Keep with your mother and your brothers, but you then snap out of your grogginess and decades have passed by, aging you to an age you mother never reached.

“Maekor,” you call out to your eldest son and child with your husband. “Has your brother tried talking to you?”

“Which one?” He queries as he can’t possibly read your mind about which out of four brothers you could be referring to.

“Torrhen,” you mention as you take another strand of hair to continue the same process. “He’s…been having a hard time again, and I reminded him that he could talk to you or Jace. I just don’t want him to feel isolated if he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Maekor sighs deeply and licks his lips before he gives you a response. “No, he hasn’t. I’ve hardly seen him.”

You hum and slump in your seat, letting his half-twisted hair go and dropping your head to fix your rings. “Well, could you try talking to him? I know I shouldn’t ask you, but he’s reluctant to talk to me, and you know how he feels about his father,” you begin to grow quieter with every word that comes out of your mouth. “I know it shouldn’t be your burden to bear, but you’re his older brother, he might feel more inclined—”

“I’d argue Aerion is the eldest,” a third voice interrupts you; one suave and taunting.

When you lift your head and peer back you see Jacaerys, your third child and second son with your husband. Albeit, he also counts as your sixth child out of seven if you count your three children with Aemond. But if you count your husband's firstborn with his first wife, Jacaerys is your seventh child out of eight.

It's all such a mess…

“Jacaerys,” Maekor scolds his younger brother.

“Mother,” said man greets you sweetly as he reaches you and bends down to press a peck on your cheek before he walks forward so he can be in front of you and Maekor.

“You stink of sweat,” you point out with your nose wrinkling in disgust. “Have you been out all night?” You probe.

Jacaerys steals a wooden chair and drags it back to swing his leg around it and sit with his chest pressed against the back of the seat. “Yes, I’m enjoying my last moments of freedom before I’m forever enslaved as a brother of the Night's Watch.”

“To be a brother of the Night's Watch is a great honor,” Maekor reminds his brother who immediately shows that he disapproves of that ideology.

“Says you,” Jacaerys quips as he folds his arms over the back of the chair and then rests his chin on his arms. “You’re a second son. You’re father's spare if anything happens to his firstborn son.”

“Jacaerys,” you gently scold your son as you stand up to continue twisting Maekor’s hair.

“Mother,” he mocks you and then continues to spew his regular complaints. “It’s true. He won’t ever have the responsibility of having to join the Night’s Watch. He’ll never be sworn off women, or be forced to live at the wall with outcast men.”

“You don’t even like women,” Maekor remarks under his breath.

“I do,” Jacaerys points his finger at his brother. “But that’s not the point! The point is that you won’t ever have to be forced to join the Night’s Watch.”

You finish with the twist you were working on and then drift your focus to Jacaerys. “You don’t have to join the Night’s Watch either, Jace. You have dragons blood in you—”

“So I can either be forced to procreate with one of your cousins' daughters and be tied down that way forever, or be trapped at the Wall until I die.” He scoffs, making Maekor groan.

“You’re in a mood.”

You step away from Maekor and approach Jacaerys with a knowing smile that makes him lower his head. “Mother,” he mutters and you crouch to be at his level.

“You can do whatever it is your heart desires,” you tell him in a sweet and sincere voice. “If you don’t want to join the Night’s Watch, you don’t have to. If you don’t want to get married and you just want to get on a ship and travel, then you will get on that ship and I will bid you goodbye.”

The tension holding Jacaerys’ shoulders and jaw captive let him loose, and in its place, a softness unfurls in his eyes that makes them glisten like glittering snowflakes on an untouched blanket of snow.

“But father…will be disappointed if I don’t join,” Jacaerys reminds you, or more so shares the only reason why he feels like he has to join. “It’s my duty. Maekor cannot join, and Torrhen…is too burdened by his visions to be fully there. It lies on me to bring that honor to our family.”

You huff and lift your hand to stroke his cheek. “No, my love, your father wouldn’t be disappointed. He understands what it’s like to want things too, and if he didn’t I would make him because you, my darling boy, are our son and we want you to be happy. We want you all to be happy”

As tough as Jacaerys acts, he’s still the most sensitive out of all your children, so his eyes well up, but he doesn’t let himself cry. He lowers his head and you slide your hand back to cup the back of his neck.

“So if you don’t want to join the Night’s Watch, then don’t, okay? I’ll be proud of you with whatever it is you choose.” You assure him as you press a kiss on the back of his head before you let him go and stand up to return to Maekor, leaving Jacaerys with his head hanging low.

“Anyway, talk to Torrhen, okay? Maybe go out together or I don’t know, do brother stuff,” you continue your conversation with Maekor. “Just let him know he can rely on you.”

“I will,” Maekor assures you. “I won’t disappoint you, mother.”

——

*NOW*

Gardens that were once vivid and full of life are now bare and haunting without Helaena here to fill them with the pure love she had for insects and plant life.

You never understood her fascination for the gross critters, but she loved to talk about them and show them off when she’d catch them, so you always listened of course. You’d walk around the garden side by side until she grew tired or you had somewhere to get to. Now…not even the chirping of an insect is here to keep you company. Sure, it’s due to the winter climate, but without her, the gardens are so desolate either way.

“Your Grace?”

You perk up at the sound of you being called and turn away from the fountain thinking you might see Cregan. Even though you’ve been rejecting his summons and have been averting your gaze when you’re in the same room, you still hope that when you turn around it's him joining you in the gardens.

Alas, when your eyes fall on the figure approaching you, for a split second you freeze as you swear to every god, new and old, that it's your mother. You see her beautiful face untouched by any fire. You see her long golden-silver hair flowing behind her, and captured under the soft hue of the cold sun. Albeit, when you blink she vanishes and Lord Kermit is approaching you in her place.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Lord Kermit catches the disappointment on your face and offers you a teasing smile.

“Ah,” you breathe out and fix an invisible wrinkle on your light sea-green gown. “Well perhaps,” you admit shamelessly. “My cousin Rhaena should be arriving at the city soon, and I’m still waiting on responses from the Lord and Ladies we sent pardons to, so,” you pause and sigh as you fix your ring next. “Yes, actually. Sorry.”

Lord Kermit scoffs and reaches the fountain you’re sitting on to respond. “No, it’s alright. You are a very busy woman. I do not envy it.”

You scoff softly and then pat the empty spot beside you. “Will you sit with me? At least for a moment?”

Whether out of obligation, because he was seeking your company, and or because he had nothing better to do, he takes you up on your offer, filling your heart at least with a flicker of warmth.

“I am only out here now because Lord Stark says that if I’m with him whilst he’s questioning suspects, they might feel obliged to hide the truth, so,” you sigh. “I'm here.”

Lord Kermit looks around at the gardens and huffs. “Out here in the cold?”

You giggle. “It’s either here or wait impatiently for me to be questioned next.”

Lord Kermit drops his head at that and mutters his thoughts. “It’s mad that Lord Stark is questioning you too.”

Your face falls and you slowly lower your head, finding your reflection painted on the water's surface. “Why is it so mad?” You ask as you stare long and hard at the woman staring back at you.

“Because…you’re the Queen Regent and you shouldn’t be put to question.”

“Is that all?” You whisper and catch Lord Kermit’s confusion reflecting on the water's surface.

“Had it been me?” You clarify. “Would it be so mad then? Would it make me a villain?”

You keep your eyes on your reflection and you know you don’t see someone full of guilt looking back at you. You don’t see someone wicked either like others paint you out to be. You don’t know who or what you see exactly, but you know guilt and wickedness is not something on the surface.

“Many would see a villain,” Lord Kermit admits, pulling your gaze to his flesh-made face with an immediate sadness.

“But I wouldn’t see the same,” he continues, making your breath catch in your throat. “He would have deserved it and you would have had all the reason to do it. Even if the weapon was less than honorable.”

You blink repeatedly and hum in response before you drop your gaze on the water's surface again and ask yourself if settling with someone understanding like Lord Kermit would be something you’d like, considering Cregan’s current position in these current affairs.

Lord Kermit is not ugly. He’s quite handsome with his fire-kissed hair and he’s a Lord and a Warden no less. He’s seen you fight so he wouldn't be against it, and he’s not afraid of Astraea, so settling for him wouldn’t be terrible. After all, you also have a duty to your family to restore your line now that most of it is gone. However…could Cregan really turn out to hate you so much that he wouldn’t consider a future with you anymore? After so much longing to be together and finally have the opportunity, would he really throw it away over a man who’s not even worth the fuss?

Are you really not worth that much to him?

“Tell me, Lord Kermit,” you interject in a much sweeter tone. “Has snow reached Riverrun?”

Lord Kermit is caught off guard by the sudden change in subject but he welcomes it and matches your energy right away. “Perhaps. I have not been home in some time. I imagine the winter snows have reached Riverrun by now…but I really wish it wouldn’t.”

“Oh?” You probe. “You prefer the rain?”

Lord Kermit chuckles and your lips pull to a smile.

“It’s not always raining, alright?” He retorts. “It's a common misconception.”

You smile wider and he continues. “There’s actually a lot of sun. I myself prefer the sun.”

You nod gently in comprehension before you cut in. “Me too. I love the sun, hot summer days by the sea or in the sea. I wish it would be summer now because then at least I could keep myself busy by diving.”

“Diving?” He questions and you nod excitedly.

“It’s fantastic and liberating. There’s so many secrets to uncover, and so many different sea creatures to meet. Even in rivers!” You point out with a grin as you’re filled with warm memories. “The world is truly endless underwater,” you muse and glance down at the water filling the fountain.

Lord Kermit hums with a sense of admiration before he interjects boldly. “Well then I’m sure you would be fond of the Riverlands, there's so many different waters to explore.”

Your smile falters but you don’t drop it even if it fades in your eyes, leaving them dull and uninterested. You’re about to give him a response, but you then catch the sound of footsteps and as if waiting for someone to come rescue you, you immediately drop the matter and snap your attention to the incomer, catching Cregan approaching with his gaze hardening on Lord Kermit.

“Lord Stark,” the young lord greets almost bregudgly

“Lord Tully,” said man responds and then glances at you expecting some kind of greeting, but you keep quiet, making him interject. “I see a lot of you as of late. Have you grown to like the Keep?”

Lord Kermit steals a glance at you as you keep your eyes pierced on Cregan as if you want to curse him or undress him with your eyes. Lord Kermit doesn’t realize that though so he just looks at you to gain his answer.

“I have grown quite fond of its beauty, yes,” he references you and Cregan catches it and sucks in the inside of his lip to try and keep from showing his emotions.

“Do you need something, Lord Stark?” You act clueless. “Lord Kermit was talking to me about the Riverlands.”

Cregan’s eyes drift to you and you hold his gaze and press him speechlessly.

“Well yes, I do, you are next for questioning,” he says what you already knew.

“You did not have to come all this way,” you taunt him, making him scoff.

“Well you left me no choice, you weren’t outside of the throne room,” he quips and you hum and then stand on your feet, but turn to Lord Kermit first as he mirrors your actions—“Thank you for keeping me company,” you tell the young lord and offer him a small curtsy, making him bow in response with a charming smile on his face.

“Thank you for letting me be in your company,” he redirects and tries to hold your gaze, but you quickly turn away and spare Cregan a glance before you walk ahead of him. He then tries to walk at your side but you speed up and fill the silence by talking to Ser Cane about nothing truly important, you just don't want to leave space for Cregan to talk to you.

When you reach the throne room, in the echoing silence you find yourself feeling nervous. Usually being with Cregan would calm down any unsettled nerves, but as of now being in his presence and knowing what he’s after without the guarantee that you’ll be supported no matter what makes you nervous. More so as he has the guards leave the room except for Ser Cane.

“We both know why you’re here, my Queen,” Cregan is the first to break the silence while you keep your back facing him as you slowly wander the room trying to prolong the matter—“there’s no use dancing around the question or the answer.”

You slowly peer at him over your shoulder and bat your lashes as you graze your finger on the wooden seat he has below the Iron Throne.

“Then ask what you’ve been dying to ask me, my Lord,” you quip and look away to start ascending the stairs that lead to the Iron Throne.

“Did you provide the poison to the King?” He asks, doing what he said, but you purposely prolong the silence by reaching the Iron Throne first and sitting down on the cold and hard seat.

You’ve never let yourself sit on the Iron Throne before; especially not when Aegon was king and not after he died. No matter how much you dreamed of sitting on it once upon a time, when you finally had the ability to do so you never could do it because it was a reminder of everything you lost for it. Now though…you sit on the throne not because you’ve grown an interest in it. You sit on the throne to tip the power scales back to you so Cregan remembers that you are the Queen Regent first and foremost.

“No,” you deadpan and don’t actually lie. You didn’t give Aegon the poison, you might have provided it for his murder but when it came down to it it was not you who slipped it in his wine.

“Hm,” Cregan hums in comprehension and slowly walks to the foot of the Iron Throne to be closer without climbing the steps. “You were his wife. You were closer to him more than anyone in this castle. You shared a marriage bed. You had the opportunity to see him whenever you desired. It would have been easy for you to slip the poison in his wine.”

Your lips droop to a deep frown whilst your eyes harden, but also start to slowly grow red as tears well up, making Cregan’s reflection clear as all your attention is on him.

“We were married under the eyes of The Seven, yes, but the marriage was never consummated,” you clarify. “He tried many times to consummate it, but after his injuries, he was not the same. So after a while of failures, he stopped summoning me to his private chambers.”

Cregan nods and probes further. “And you slept in different quarters?”

You scoff and nod stiffly. “After the death of his son at the beginning of the war, they had the King and the Queen sleep in different chambers, so no, we never shared the same quarters. We never shared a bed. I was his Queen because there’s no consummation needed to gain the title, but besides that, we were basically strangers.”

Cregan drops his head and lets out a deep breath before he continues. “You had more motive than anyone here to see him dead though. You were in the middle of a coup when he died too, so it would have been easier to slip him the poison. Or have others do it for you.”

You blink and draw out a small breath. “Perhaps, but what do you think, Lord Stark? You know it all, and you have gained all the testimony’s from the other suspects, so tell me now Lord Stark if you think it was me.” You sneer as you lower your chin to pierce your watery glare on him and await his answer.

“No more dancing around,” you press. “Tell me and then ask me directly.”

Cregan draws in a deep breath and you let out a shaky breath as you grip onto the throne so hard that the blades start to break your skin.

“I,” he parts his lips and looks into your eyes to find his answer in the eyes of the woman he loves more than life itself. And that’s what blurs his judgment. “I like to think you didn’t. Did you? Did you poison him?”

Based on his answer you draw in a deep breath and lie because what he expects is what he wants to hear. He doesn’t want to blame you, but he would and that’s what drives you to lie to the man you love.

“No, but if I had, did I not have every right to? After what I told you, from what you know, do I not have every damn reason to kill him in any way?” You remark and grip harder onto the Iron Throne, to the point blood begins to leak out of cuts growing deeper the tighter your grip gets. “Would it have mattered what weapon was used to kill the monster that ruined not only my life but everyone else’s? Tell me oh noble Stark.”

And with that Cregan’s rose-colored glasses fall from his eyes and he finally sees you, the woman he lived with for 5 five years. The fierce woman who wields a sword and walks through fire without getting burnt. He sees a fierce dragon in his midst and he starts to realize that he might be wrong about you and that you are more than likely lying.

“You were in the middle of a coup it’s not so outrageous that it could have been you,” he lets it be heard and you tilt your chin up and query.

“And since I was in the middle of a coup wouldn't it have been easier for me to slay him with my sword? So the masses could be witnesses?”

“Most of the Smallfolk hate you for the violence you used against them,” he counters right away, and you don’t stay quiet for a second. You hit him right back.

“And they hated my mother because she raised the taxes after their king's men stole the money. I am also a woman. After they killed my dragons I stopped caring about what they like or hate. They may cry a river and I would not bat an eye. I’m keeping them alive, that's all that matters.”

Cregan takes in what you spat and finds himself caught off guard by this change in you, but then again if he wasn’t letting his heart get in the way, your change wouldn’t be at all surprising.

“Proving you wouldn’t care if you used poison or not,” he rebuttals, making you sit back and tilt your head low to scowl.

“No,” you counter bluntly. “A weapon is a weapon. He was a monster,” you spat and cloud your vision. “He deserved what he got. He deserved more suffering actually, but he got his end so why can’t you just let him rot?” You hiss. “You defend him with so much passion because of your honor, but if you weren’t so blinded by it you would know what I do. You would see it in my eyes and the eyes of many, but you’re blind and it’s so easy to tell.”

You get up swiftly and storm down the steps. When you reach him, when your chest is grazing against his you tilt your head, glance at his lips, and then look him in the eye. “Believe me if you want to, I don’t care. He’s dead and my brother's life doesn’t hang in the balance anymore. I can breathe again. That’s all that matters to me.” You swallow thickly and he licks his lips before you shove past him and storm out of the throne room.

Once you’re at the door and the moment they open your grandfather walks up to meet you under the frame and grabs your shoulders.

“I will think about what your father and your grandmother would have wanted,” he whispers and for the first time in a long time, he presses a kiss on your forehead, showing you a kindness he hasn’t shown you in so long.

“Grandfather,” you whisper back but he lets you go and walks away. When you turn the doors close behind him, forcing you to wait where he left you with your bloody hands clasped, and your heart sinking.

The tears you were so against fall down your cheeks and when you try to wipe them off blood stains your face. The blood doesn’t even get to dry before the doors open and your grandfather walks out with his hands restrained and guards now holding onto him to make sure he doesn’t escape.

“Grandfather,” you cry and run over to grab his arms with more tears mixing with the stains of blood running down your cheeks. “What are you doing?” You direct at Cregan. “Let him go.”

The man you’re now looking at stares at you hard and then mutters. “He admitted to poisoning the King. His freedom will come when he’s dead now.”

You shake your head and your grandfather cuts in. “Hush now. You are Queen. Do not shed any tears for me, Your Grace. I did what I did for you and the good of the realm. There’s no shame in it.”

Your heart. The poor withered thing starts to hurt and you cry harder. You even look at Cregan with a heartbroken look. “Please don’t kill him. I demand it. I beg. Please.”

Cregan looks away and clenches his jaw as he finds your weeping too hurtful to bear. “It has to be done and your demands can’t overpower it. He dies tomorrow at sundown. You can say your goodbyes then. Let’s go,” he then directs at his guards and leaves no more room for arguing or pleading. He couldn’t stand it, and he knew prolonging the matter would only hurt more.

“Cregan,” his name comes out shakily from your lips and he hears it but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He can’t or he’d break.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

With mustered excitement, you shift from one foot to the other as you watch Rhaena, at last, descend her dragon after almost a year of not seeing her.

With fewer friends to talk to even though the Red Keep is buzzing with people, finally having someone you know you can confide in and a shoulder to cry on is like a light breaking in the darkness. Albeit you don’t run to her right away, you let her reunite with her sister. You let them enjoy their own moment before you finally depart from your spot and run to her to greet her with an embrace.

“Rhaena,” you whisper out in relief and hold onto her tightly.

Said girl returns your tight embrace and whispers your name too before she immediately expresses her condolences. “I am so sorry about what happened. I am so sorry about Rhaenyra. I should have been with you all. I’m so sorry.”

She pulls back to grab your arms and look you in the eye with pity and grief of her own. “Will you forgive me?” She asks.

Your breath shudders and your eyes sting as you immediately offer her relief by nodding. “Of course, but there was nothing to forgive anyway.”

She draws out a heavy breath that seems to have been weighing her down and lets her eyes linger on you for a moment before she steps back to look at her sister. “Now what is it I hear about the two of you being at odds with each other? Now when we’re supposed to be at our strongest?”

Both Baela and you avert your gaze out of shame and stiffen as the tension is quick to slip around you.

“I know what happened, you had opposing mindsets on the matter, but the sin was committed and our family was eradicated, forgive each other or live the rest of your lives like Rhaenyra and her brothers did,” Rhaena scolds you both and pinches your arms, making you roll your head down and then slowly bring your eyes up to meet Baela’s shameful gaze.

“I’m sorry, Baela,” you interject first. “That’s all I can offer you because if I said I regretted what I did then I would be lying and I don’t want to lie, so I’m sorry.”

Baela rubs her offended area and sighs deeply before she also directs her apology at you. “I hope you forgive me too. I shouldn’t have let it go on for as long as I did. I am sorry.”

Her bottom lip begins to tremble and yours quickly does the same. Before either of you could be seen shedding a tear though, you step in for an embrace and shed your tears then, when you’re both out of sight.

“Thank you,” you mumble and cling onto her. “For forgiving me.”

Baela rubs your back in response and you linger in the embrace for a moment longer before you pull away and face the twins. “Do you want to go see Aegon?” You direct at Rhaena, and she immediately looks at you puzzled.

“What about our grandfather? What are we going to do to stop Lord Stark from killing him? Lady Arryn told me about the letter Alyn sent. Does Lord Stark really want to fight another war?”

“He’s eager to keep shedding blood,” Baela grumbles whilst you sigh and then try to offer her some consolation.

“I will talk to Lord Stark soon, do not worry…” you trail off as you don’t have much confidence in yourself, but you still try to be positive on the matter. In response, the twins share a look and you think it’s because they catch your own doubt, but they start to giggle.

“What?” You probe.

They share a knowing look and leave you clueless as they grab your arms and lead you back inside. However, perhaps you should have stayed outside, or gone a completely other way to visit Aegon because on your way there, in a corridor that overlooks one of the many training yards, your heart crushes at the sight of Cregan talking to Lady Alyssane Blackwood.

They’re talking close to each other, closer than they need to be. Not as close as Cregan and you tend to talk, but so close you could know each other's scents and pick them apart.

As to what could have brought them so close, you don’t know, you wouldn’t know either, but you begin to wonder about it. The thoughts are so plaguing that it’s hard to think about anything else but him sharing his warmth with her the same way he would share his warmth with you. You think about him letting her hear him laugh his deep rich laugh that so easily brings a smile to your face. You think about his pale and soft lips belonging to her and no longer letting you be the only person to know how they taste. You think about the tender way he loves even though he has a cold exterior.

You think about him and her and ask yourself why he shouldn’t find his happiness elsewhere? You thought about settling down with someone else if he can no longer find a way to love you, so why shouldn’t he also find his happiness?

He should!

You don’t want him to be happy with anyone else, but he should be happy with someone else who isn’t you if that’s what he wants…

Alas, that’s not what’s important when the time comes to meet up. You had every need to go down to the courtyard and interrupt him and Black Aly, but you controlled your intrusive thoughts and remained with your cousins and the children until it was time to talk to Cregan.

Even then the twisted and jealous part of you expected Black Aly to be at his side, but when he met up with you he came alone.

“Your Grace,” he greets with a bow.

You draw in a small breath and offer him a simple greeting. “Lord Stark, I’m glad you came.”

He scoffs. “Of course, I came. You summoned me, my Queen.”

A warmth unfurls over your cheeks and a smile threatens to spread on your lips, but you manage to keep it away and instead move to the side to point him toward your favorite secret spot. “Walk with me?” You ask and he nods right away, letting you face your sworn protector.

“Stay here, Ser,” you command him, but you see his hesitation right away, making you quickly try and reassure him. “Don't worry, Lord Stark will be my companion, if anything happens he will protect me.”

Ser Cane’s eyes fall on said lord and they turn heavy as he passes him doubt. Not because he doesn’t trust him, but because he’s seen you cry over him and you’re the most important thing to Ser Cane.

“I swear I would never let any harm come to her,” Cregan also assures him. “Rest easy good Ser.”

Ser Cane hesitates some more, but he doesn’t disobey, he steps back and he lets you and Cregan walk off alone, causing tension to fall over you and Cregan as you both take in the fact that you’re alone and no one will be a witness to your conversation. It will be like when you were young and sneaking off to find some discreet place where you wouldn’t be caught.

“Should I expect Lord Kermit to be at the end of this trail, or have him interrupt us?” Cregan breaks the silence to be cheeky.

“Why would he?” You remark and look back at him over your shoulder, catching him looking at you annoyed.

“Because he always seems to be around you…” he mutters and lets his voice get drowned out by the crashing waves that grow louder the further downhill you get.

“No, not true. It only seems that way because you come to find me when we happen to be talking,” you defend yourself right away so he doesn’t get the wrong idea even though yesterday you were making him jealous on purpose—“but we’re not here to talk about him.”

“Good,” Cregan quips, causing the corner of your lips to twitch to a smile that’s fleeting as the weight of why you brought him here grows heavier.

“Why did you bring me all the way out here?” He presses as his eyes wander the sunless horizon and the never-ending sea drifting a cold breeze that adds to the already icy wind—“Is this…the spot you would come to with your husband?”

You scoff and shake your head. “No. Well we would come here together on occasion but this is not our spot, this is my spot. I would come train here with my sword…” you trail off before more memories can come along and dampen the mood you set to ask what you need from him.

“Ah, so this is the spot? Hm. Couldn’t have imagined it any differently.”

You huff at his comment and then proceed to welcome the silence, letting it linger until you finally reach the platform and you’re faced by the mighty sea and a rather white cloudy sky that threatens to drop snow on the dry lands. Behind you is a staircase that leads back to the Red Keep, green hills, and Cregan who soaks in your presence like one would soak the sun in their pores.

There’s no need for the sun when he’s with you though, that much he knows for certain.

As to why you brought him here? He knows that too, but he keeps basking in the sight of you for a moment longer. Besides, you also seem to be in agreement with maintaining the tranquility because you remain unmoving with your eyes focused on the body of water. It’s not until Cregan falls beside you that you break your gaze away from the horizon and slowly look at him with softened eyes already brimming with salty tears, and downturned lips already spilling your plea.

“I know…what my grandfather admitted to was wrong, but Cregan,” you say his name ever so softly, in the way you always say it when you’re aching deeply and want nothing more but his comfort. “You can’t kill him,” you beg. You don’t demand a thing. You beg him.

He hears that clinging onto your shaky voice and drops his head while he mutters your name. “I can’t spare him because of what he means to you. That’s not fair. He’s still a traitor,” he presses. “He should die a traitor's death just like everyone else.”

You nod your head. “I know. I know what he did, but you know what Alyn will do if you kill him. He will bring more war, more blood, and more destruction.”

He swallows thickly and his eyes harden. “There’s worse ways to die. Winter is here,” he insists and you hold his gaze as your mind races with what to say next. A way to get him to agree and not commend someone you love to death.

“If you kill him…you will have to kill me,” you blurt and try to spark a fire in your eyes, but your ferocity at this very moment is nowhere to be found. You’re not mad, you are passionate about saving your grandfather, but right now, with Cregan you feel desperate.

“I was a part of the plan to kill Aegon. I organized the council and plotted and schemed so if you kill my grandfather then you will have to put me to the sword too,” your voice shakes and he looks at you with disbelief as if he was already committing the act.

“No, no, do not say that,” he hisses. “Do not put me in that position because…you know what you are to me,” he finishes off softly, letting you approach him to grab his forearms and bring each other closer.

“I will lay down my life with his,” you press. “People will pay to see it and I…will be better off because of it—”

“Why would you say that?” He cuts you off.

Tears roll down your cheeks and you shrug. “I told you,” you speak softly. “I died with my mother. Aegon took all the meaning from my life.”

Cregan’s eyebrows knit together and his grey eyes glisten. “Am I not meaning enough?” He asks with a vulnerability you take into account.

“You are, but I cannot bring myself to keep dragging you around. You,” you pause and think back to what you saw. “You deserve to have a good life with someone who does not bring so much drama and such a heavy burden of grief. I…I’m broken, Cregan. You deserve someone stronger who doesn’t cry all the time because lately, that’s all I can do. You…”

“I,” he continues for you. “I want you. I have wanted you since the moment we met. The moment you had to leave, and even now. You are not a burden, and your grief is normal after what you went through. I don’t like that you think that way about yourself.”

You look at him with hurt and he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, making your breath hitch.

“I want you my darling love,” he whispers against your lips. “Say you want me and…I will give you what you want. Say you will marry me at long last and be my wife, and what you want is yours. Come home with me so the gods don’t break us apart again.”

You didn’t confess to actually providing the poison, and maybe he has an idea, or maybe doesn’t. You don’t know and you’ll never know. That’s a secret you’re willing to take to the grave so he’ll continue loving you.

“I want to be your wife,” you assure him and begin to smile through your tears. “I want to go home with you.”

A wobbly grin breaks on his face and he leans in to the point his lips graze against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. “I will kiss you again when you become mine under the eyes of the old gods.”

You giggle. “Is that so? We do share a child together,” you share teasingly, causing him to gasp and back away to face you with disbelief.

“I will never be truly certain,” you continue sweeter. “And her name will never change for her safety and my own, but Daenerys is yours. I don’t know how it's possible for Daenys to be Aemond’s, and Daenerys to be yours, but I know it in my gut that Daenerys is yours. She has your eyes.”

“She does?” He asks breathlessly, and you nod.

“Grey like a brewing storm.”

He laughs softly and you close the gap between you to press your hands on his chest. “Come meet her tomorrow?”

“Why not tonight?” He asks impatiently.

You sigh. “I need to talk to Baela and Rhaena. I want to get married here so what’s left of my family is present,” you explain. “After that, we can leave. I want to leave. And when we do I won’t be here to be regent, meaning Aegon will be left alone. I need to make sure he’s not left defenseless.”

Cregan hums. “I would offer a longer stay but the longer we do stay, the harder it will be to get home with winter upon us.”

You nod in comprehension since it was already something you expected.

“So it’s fine if we get married here?” You query as you stroke his chest. “I know the Godswood isn’t as beautiful as the one in Winterfell, but is it fine?”

He nods without hesitation and offers you a sly smile. “We’ll have two ceremonies. One here and one at home.”

You smile brightly and he quickly cups your jaw and looks at you with a love-struck gaze. “I missed you,” he says as he admires your smile.

“I missed you too,” you redirect before you wrap your arms around him and pull him for an embrace that he immediately returns, causing tears to come rushing to your eyes.

“Cregan,” you mewl as the weight of comfort hits you. “My mother is gone.”

“I know, my darling love,” he coos against your head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

——

*LATER*

With your grandfather spared, the weight of guilt no longer sits on your shoulders, and the strain of more heartache no longer endangers your heart. There was a threat of war if Cregan harmed your grandfather, but now that's no longer in your midst so everyone can take a deep breath. Only worry lingered as Cregan put the men who helped you get rid of Aegon to the sword, but pleading you to spare their lives is not the same as exposing your part in the entire plan, so you turned a blind eye and watched them die in the evening under the rain.

After that worry still tensed you up as you had to talk to your cousins about leaving everyone and everything behind. And you do wish that your reasons for leaving were as simple as just marrying Cregan and becoming the Lady of Winterfell, but the truth is your reasons for leaving are a bit more selfish than that. That’s why it’s so hard bringing up the matter when it’s just the three of you alone.

Then again it's hard to talk about any matter. There's a lot to talk about but it all seems wrong to bring up, so maybe bringing up your matter to break the silence will be relieving.

“I have to share something,” you finally push yourself to interject and raise your eyes to watch Rhaena stop braiding Baela’s hair.

“In exchange for sparing our grandfather's life today, Cregan told me to marry him.”

A smile quickly pulls on Rhaena’s face but when she doesn’t see you smile her lips slowly begin to droop.

“I obviously agreed not only to spare our grandfather's life but because I do love him,” you pause and Baela presses impatiently.

“But?”

“I’ll be leaving with him back to Winterfell the moment he leaves,” you reveal and swallow back nervously and quickly continue before they can ask the loaded question. “That means leaving Aegon behind and it breaks my heart having to leave him behind, but…I can’t continue living here. Everywhere I look, every corner I find myself to be reminds me of Aemond, and if it’s not him it’s my brothers, and if it’s not them it’s my mother. I'm being tortured every minute of my life and I,” you gasp. “I don't think that I can continue carrying on like this. I can’t,” you breathe out and slap your hands on your thighs. “So I have to leave, I have to abandon my title as regent and I have to abandon Aegon.”

“But,” Baela quickly argues. “Aegon is still a child. He can’t rule yet. Who will rule in his stead until he becomes of age? Who will protect him if not you and your dragon?”

You sigh and mutter your response. “The two of you, or either one of you. You are also Daemon’s daughters, and Rhaena has Morning. You’re strong too, you have the fire to be Regent, don’t underestimate yourselves.”

Baela and Rhaena share a look but you drop your head before you can know what it means.

“I will continue being Aegon’s sister but I can’t be his mother, nor can I be Regent. I…can’t…I’m sorry.”

They respond with silence, making your stomach knit together as you think that they’ll hate you for putting this burden on them, but then the sound of clicking heels echoes in the silence, and when you look up you catch Rhaena approaching you before she throws her arms around you.

“It’s not just your burden to bear, so don’t feel guilty for leaving. We’re here, we will look out after Aegon in your stead because we’re his sisters too,” Rhaena assures you and also seems to be scolding you for thinking so selfishly as if you don’t share Aegon as a brother.

“Yes,” Baela follows along before she walks over and joins you and Rhaena with an embrace. “You can leave the realm to us. We will make sure he’s not picked apart by vultures.”

You scoff lightheartedly and return their hug with more force than the one they’re using. “Thank you,” you offer them softly. “Thank you for understanding.”

“You get married to your barbarian,” Baela teases. “And expand our blood there.”

You giggle and nod. “Yes, yes, I will.”

With that said, with neither of them reprimanding you for leaving, the knot in your stomach comes undone and it doesn’t feel like you’re going to puke or give out with all the weight. You’re put at ease—or you feel as tranquil as you can feel with everything else still tormenting you.

At least you can go on with your wedding without guilt. You acknowledge that leaving Aegon and abandoning your title as Regent is selfish, but you didn't see a future if you went on as you were. It’s depressing to admit, but it’s true. And leaving it all behind won’t heal you, all the pain will follow you, but if you leave there is no endless abyss, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and perhaps the most selfish reason of them all; Cregan.

After so much yearning there’s finally no obstacles, no other uncle coming in the middle and breaking you apart. At long last you can meet under the great, vibrant Heart Tree and become one.

Getting to that day did take a while, there’s so much to deal with after a war is over, but once The Reach, Casterly Rock, Storm’s End, and Old Town accepted your terms and swore fealty, and once Alyn was no longer a threat, you finally came to the day of your wedding. And given that this will be your third time getting married you shouldn’t be nervous, but fuck, knowing that the man you love is waiting at the other end of that aisle is nerve-wracking.

“Are you ready?” You recognize your grandfather's voice before you see him approaching you—“Third time is the charm right?” He tries to ease your nerves. And you do laugh, but your nerves don’t disappear.

“I’m ready,” you assure him and draw out a deep breath.

Your grandfather reaches you as you stand a few feet away from the Godswood, and looks at you up and down before he parts his lips. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Your breath catches and your gaze softens. Before you can thank him for the compliment he continues.

“My wish about Aerion being my heir and my ward still stands if that’s what you want.”

You blink in surprise and stand dumbfounded for a moment before you breathe out and nod softly. “Yes, of course. Once he’s old enough I’ll take him to you.”

“Good,” he says quietly. “I’m glad, I thought I had ruined my chance after I stood against you when you needed me the most.”

You gulp a thick lump and then shake your head. “You stood by your morals. I was mad but I can’t blame you. We’re headstrong. That’s how we are as Velaryon’s, right?”

He chuckles and nods. “That’s exactly right. You continue to be headstrong, little siren. Keep fighting. Live your life as you please in the North. It’s what your father and your grandmother would have wanted.”

Tears fill your eyes and you nod in comprehension. “I’ll teach Aerion everything my father taught me about ships and sailing. I’ll teach him everything you taught my father and my father taught me,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “I’ll make it a bit easier on you.”

Tears fill the eyes of the great and fearsome Sea Snake as he nods gently in comprehension. “That would be great.”

You draw in a shaky breath and he points to the Godswood and asks one more time. “Are you ready?”

You draw out a deep breath and let your tears dry out before you agree one more time and make your way to Cregan.

Now every breath and every step that you take brings you closer to him. Bit by bit your thumping heart grows louder in your ears as it beats harder with every ba-dum. Your running breaths grow unsettled as the thought of him unravels your mind, and it feels like you’ll grow mad until at last you enter the Godswood and meet his intense grey eyes under the clear blue winter sky.

He’s so beautiful. So god-like in his best fur, his most expensive leathers, and with that perfectly structured face. Even if you saw him the night before, the very sight of him leaves you swooning as if this is the first time seeing him in your life.

And he could say the same thing about you, but he has so much more to say. His heart almost feels like it stopped the moment his eyes finally find you in your rich long-sleeved grey-white silk dress adorned with beautiful gold designs that match your golden circlet. He swears a Valyrian goddess is walking toward him with the way your cloak shaped like dragon wings embraces you, and the sun seems to shine just for you.

He always knew you were beautiful, more beautiful than anything his eyes have seen, but right now, as you approach him you are truly angelic, divine, and mystical. You are every kind of beauty people use to describe goddesses.

It makes it so easy to get lost in one another when you both think like that about each other. You can’t begin to care about something so mundane as time, what’s surrounding you, and who are all the souls watching your eyes glimmering under the sight of one another because you’re so lost in your own world that none of it matters, just you and him, two hearts and two souls at long last joining together after so much longing.

Now nothing can tear you apart. You are one in it all except in what truly matters, physically, but little by little the barrier of space grows thinner and thinner as you walk to him under the Heart Tree until only thin barriers keep you apart.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this afternoon?” Cregan interjects, sending chills down your spine.

Your grandfather then proceeds to speak your name and hesitates for a second before he continues. “…of the House Velaryon. Whoms here to be wed. A woman grown. True born and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”

Cregan steps up and bows his head. “Cregan of House Stark. Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Who gives her?”

You keep your eyes on Cregan and he spares a glance at your grandfather, but he comes back to you as if afraid something will take you out of his sight just as you're mere moments away from becoming man and wife.

“Lord Corlys of House Velaryon, grandfather to the bride,” he gives his response and then turns to face you. “My Queen Regent, will you take this man?”

Your eyes flicker to your grandfather to offer him a sweet smile before you let him go and step forward to give your response without hesitation. “I take this man.”

The corner of Cregan’s lips lift to a blissful smile and you mirror him before you at last break the last barriers of space keeping you apart and join hands.

Once again, even if you have felt his warmth and his hard hands before, feeling them now in this instance feels like the first time. A small shock even passes between your fingers when you touch hands, but it’s quickly forgotten when you walk to the Heart Tree and bow before it.

You are now supposed to bow your heads in submission, but before you can you and Cregan hold each other's gaze and smile at each other before you bow and spend a few more minutes in silence.

When Cregan is done praying, he looks to you, and you look to him and stand back on your feet. He proceeds to let your hand go, welcoming a chilly breeze against your palm so he can grab a fur cloak with his house sigil. He is supposed to take your own maiden's cloak off but since you’re not a maiden, and you were previously married, he doesn’t take anything off. He proceeds to put his cloak over your shoulders, signifying him taking you under his protection and taking you into his family, making you man and wife. You are now one. At long last!

It’s a special moment that will be unforgettable. It’s a joyous moment! Blissful, and almost relieving, like you can finally breathe.

You get drunk off those feelings and live on like that until the moment you reach your new and forever home. Not because you regret marrying Cregan and becoming the Lady of Winterfell. You’ll never regret that. You take in the ancient castle resting just past the snow-covered hill, and you’re hit with a wave of melancholy as you think about everything that happened in the past two years that brought you to this moment.

Astraea is burdened with the same wave of emotions so a melancholy song that’s mistaken for bliss from everyone but you is what welcomes you home.

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A/N- TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!!!

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[maidragoste]

3 people you thought you might marry + one of the people you married.

Hi, this is part of the universe of "The Queen and her husbands" but it can be read independently without having read the series.

Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I. Jacaerys Velaryon

No one could blame you for thinking you would marry your brother after all it was your family's customs. Aegon the Conqueror married his two sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys; Jaehaerys also married his sister Alysanne; and your great-grandparents Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen were also siblings. So it was only natural that you thought that you and Jace would follow in his footsteps.

Jacaerys would be king and you would be his queen. Your grandfather, King Viserys, told them once when he was sitting on the iron throne with both of you on his lap. From there you and your brother began to imagine what your future together would be like.

Sometimes in the early morning, you would crawl into Jace's bed and the two of you would discuss the things you would do once you were both king and queen. They were silly things like forbidding bedtime or forbidding vegetables in your meal after all you two were just kids. Even so, they both dreamed of being as loved as King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne once were. Then they both began to take their role seriously and tried harder in their lessons, Jacaerys tried to speak her Valyrian more fluently and you tried to pay more attention to numbers so that in the future you could manage the kingdom's currency well.

You were sure you would be happy with Jace. He already made you happy, listening to you, bringing you flowers from the gardens when you were sad, and being your accomplice when the two of you went to steal cakes from the kitchens. You know him better than anyone and he knows you. You two are half of each other. You love him and he loves you.

Every time Jace smiled at you you felt warm. Every time he takes your hand you feel safe and when they hug you, you are sure you can hear both of their hearts racing as if they were just one.

None of that matters because a year after you and Jace began to dream of a future together, your mother forbade you from going to Jacaerys' chambers alone at night again because she was planning an engagement between him and Helaena.

You got angry with your mother but especially with your brother because you thought he would fight for you but he didn't do anything. You locked yourself in your chambers for days without wanting to see either of them. You ended up getting out thanks to Aegon, who took you flying with Sunfyre.

II. Clement Celtigar

You weren't stupid. You knew that your mother was thinking about a possible match between you and Bartimos Celtigar's son. Lately, every time you went to Dragonstone to visit your siblings the Celtigar family was also there and your mother pushed you to spend time with Clement.

You didn't like him. Maybe if your mother didn't force you so much to be with him you'd probably like him more. But you only came to Dragonstone to see your brothers and spending time with Clement took away valuable time with your family. Jace was also upset by this, you think this is the first time you've heard him turn against your mother.

The truth is you were bored spending time with Clement. He didn't make you laugh like Aegon did and his conversations weren't as interesting as the ones you had with Aemond.

Clement seemed more interested in your dragon than you. You didn't blame him, after all, Nix was beautiful and it was normal for people to be curious about dragons since they were such magnificent creatures but you couldn't help but feel irritated because it seemed like the only attractive thing about you was your dragon. He looked at you with boredom every time you talked about something other than Nix, which made you feel insecure because you were starting to think that maybe the problem was you, that in reality, you were the boring one, not him. You even started to think that maybe you were boring Aemond too but he was too kind to pretend that he was interested in listening to you talk about the books you read and your visits to orphanages.

When you returned to King's Landing, Aemond noticed that you were quieter and the few times you spoke it was in short sentences and without elaborating so much. So he knew something had happened on your visit to Dragonstone. He couldn't stand seeing you withdrawn anymore, nothing to do with your bubbly and radiant energy, so he decided to ask you what happened in the hope of being able to help you solve whatever was bothering you so you would be your usual self again.

“Will you tell me once and for all what happened in Dragonstone?” the prince asked, pulling you from your reading. The two were in the gardens reading. Normally the two of you would take turns reading aloud but now you found yourself reading different books because you told Aemond that you were sure your book would bore him.

If it were someone else you probably would have lied and claimed that everything was fine. But it was Aemond and he knew you better than anyone. For some reason, he always seemed to be the first to notice when you were upset or sad.

“Do you think I'm boring?” You closed your book and left it on your lap.

"Of course not," the prince responded instantly. "Who told you that?" he asked, annoyed, already thinking of ordering whoever had bothered you to join him in his training so he could attack him without anyone scolding him.

“Clement Celtigar. He didn't tell me but I think he thinks I'm boring” you admitted embarrassedly, nervously grabbing the necklace that Aemond had given you on your last name day. Now you were afraid that your uncle would think you were stupid for caring so much about a boy's opinion.

"Since when do you care about Clement Celtigar's opinion?" He asked with a frown. Weeks ago you were complaining about having to spend time with the heir of Paw Island and now you were suddenly worried about him.

"I want him to like me. I could marry him one day" you said regretfully. Every time you tried to imagine a future with Clement you always found yourself unhappy. You wouldn't say Clement was a bad man but right now you didn't think you could ever love him. A part of you thought that it didn't matter who you married because you would still be unhappy having to leave King's Landing. You knew it was your duty but you always felt sad thinking that you would no longer be able to see Aemond or Aegon every day. Although you barely saw Aegon lately he seemed to prefer spending more time in Flea Bottom.

Your words seemed to irritate Aemond even more because he seemed angry now.

"You like him?"

"No" you responded instantly and couldn't help but grimace.

"Your mother is a fool," he said, earning a nudge from you.

"Aemond!"

After your father's death, the relationship between you and your mother was not the same, you were no longer as close as before, and sometimes you couldn't help but hate her, but you still couldn't allow anyone to speak ill of her.

"You are a Targaryen princess, you can't marry just anyone, a Celtigar is beneath you. You should marry someone of your level. Plus we have to keep the Valyrian blood pure" he said passionately.

"So should I marry you?" You couldn't help but laugh as you watched Aemond's cheeks turn red at your question. Normally the prince would be angry that someone was laughing at him but after not having heard your laugh for days He was happy. He looked at you with a small smile, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heart.

"Someday, if you want" Aemond responded, trying to remain calm but his heart did not return to its normal rhythm and he felt suddenly hot, especially on his face.

You didn't say anything else, you just walked up to the prince and kissed his cheek making him blush even more.

Anyway, you didn't have to worry much about Clement because weeks later any possible engagement between you was forgotten after Jacaerys had beaten him.

III. Kermit Tully

You were tired after dancing with Kermit. You lost count of the number of songs you danced together. Your feet hurt but if he asked you again to be his dance partner you wouldn't hesitate to say yes. You were happy. You enjoyed his company, you liked listening to him talk about Riverrun and the pranks he and his brother sometimes got into. Besides, Kermit was brave, or at least brave enough to be the only one who dared to ask you for your favor despite the angry looks of your uncles and Jace. He was handsome too. Sometimes you felt like running your hand through his red hair and bringing your face closer to his to see what color his eyes were, but that wouldn't be seen well.

You couldn't help but let your eyes wander around the room until you found Kermit, he was talking to his family, and as if he had felt your gaze, his clear eyes soon met yours. He smiled at you and you smiled at him, trying to ignore the heat you felt on your face. You couldn't help but wonder what your children would be like if you two ever had children if they would have Kermit's smile or yours, have your traits, or gain the Tully genes. You loved your family but you were already bored seeing so many platinum hair, so it wouldn't bother you if your children came out with red hair, they would be unique. Anyway, regardless of their hair color, you were sure they would have cute children.

"Oh gods, he's just a boy. There's nothing special about him," Aegon said, sitting next to you, making you look at him.

“He only seems like a boy to you because you're older than him,” you responded, rolling your eyes.

"He is a boy. I'm sure he doesn't even know how to satisfy a woman. I can satisfy you,” he said, taking you by the chin. You suddenly felt warm at the intensity of his gaze. If he came a little closer, his lips would touch yours. You were sure you weren't the only one to notice that so you pushed his arm away.

“Oh, uncle, you shouldn't drink so much. Your jokes aren't as funny as you think!" you exclaimed louder than normal, hoping that the people closest to you would think it was one of Aegon's drunken nonsense instead of thinking there was something between him and you. The last thing you needed was for the court to start gossiping that you were Aegon's mistress. Aemond would be furious with you as would your brothers and your mother. Besides, you might lose the chance to get engaged to Kermit.

The prince frowned at you before taking a long drink from his cup.

“Why do you want a trout when you can have a dragon?” he asked, not bothering to hide his displeasure. He didn't surprise you. Your family's custom was to marry each other, for that reason, your uncles thought that any man who was not a Targaryen was not worthy of you.

Aegon was wrong. You couldn't have a dragon. Your mother needed you to make alliances that's why she wouldn't let you marry Jace and much less would she let you marry Aemond or Daeron. But maybe if you asked she could let you marry Kermit. You'd rather choose your own fiancé before she chooses one for you.

“Maybe I'm tired of so many dragons.”

Of course, you were lying. Actually one of the reasons you wanted to get married was to get away from King's Landing. Riverrun sounded wonderful and you hoped that there you could forget about your feelings for Aemond. Lately, you had spent your nights thinking about him, dreaming about a wedding that would never happen and when you were together you couldn't concentrate on what he was telling you because you got distracted thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. Your heart seemed to jump out of your chest every time he smiled at you or complimented you. Gods, you felt so stupid, you needed to forget him or you'd end up heartbroken because nothing would happen between the two of you. The family wouldn't approve.

You hoped that if you didn't see Aemond every day you would realize your feelings for him would be forgotten. Besides, you believed that Kermit Tully would be able to win you over as well. You could see yourself happy next to him.

What you never imagined was that after the celebration was over, Aemond, jealous of your approach to Kermit, would appear in your room and kiss you. The most sensible thing would have been to kick him out and continue with your plan to marry Kermit Tully, but how could you do that when you now knew that he also felt the same way as you? How could you move on now that you know what his lips taste like? How could you do it when you finally had what your heart longed for? You knew that now that you had tasted what it was like to have him, there was no turning back. You couldn't marry anyone else.

+

I. Aemond Targaryen

You should be furious with Aemond after how he treated your brothers at dinner. You should be kicking his ass after he calls your brothers bastards. Because of him, your family had returned to Dragonstone, and you were barely able to say goodbye to Jace.

You should want to keep Aemond away after what he did tonight. How could you be with someone who treated your brothers like that? What did that say about you? But you couldn't help it. The heart wants what it wants. For that reason, you find yourself in the middle of the night on the outskirts of the Red Keep with only the company of a septon and you Aemond. Getting married secretly.

If someone had told you that same morning that you would end up marrying Aemond tonight you would have laughed. Sure, you've been in a relationship for a while, and from time to time you talked about what your wedding would be like but you honestly didn't think you two were brave enough to get married and ignore your families' wishes. But today you realized that you were wrong. Aemond was angry because your mother in the middle of dinner asked your grandfather for her blessing to arrange a marriage between you and Cregan Stark. An hour after dinner ended, he entered your chambers and told you that you would marry him, that he was not going to let you go to the North, that he was not going to allow your mother to separate you, that your place was at his side, that you both belonged to each other and most importantly that he loves you.

You never imagined your wedding would be like this. You always thought your family would be by your side. When you were a little girl you imagined your father giving you away but after he died you thought he would be your grandfather. But now you were alone.

You also imagined that you would make your maiden cape with the help of your mother, your grandmother, and your cousins. But not. You were getting married without a cape because there was no time to make one. At least Aemond had managed to take the cloak that Aegon had worn at his wedding to Helaena so when he arrived in time he could put the cloak on you.

Your hand didn't stop shaking as the septon tied the ribbon over both of your hands. You honestly didn't know if your trembling was due to the excitement of finally being able to be Aemond's wife or because of the nerves you had knowing the repercussions that your marriage would have. You just hoped your brothers didn't hate you. Your vision became blurry for a moment due to the tears that were forming in your eyes. Jace couldn't hate you, he would understand, you couldn't let your son be a bastard.

You took a deep breath and focused on ignoring your nerves and sudden sadness. This is your wedding and it is a happy occasion. This is what you wanted. Now no one can separate you from Aemond. You smiled. You would stay at home with him, you wouldn't go North.

When your husband took you by the shoulder and kissed you, you forgot your fears. You focused on the addictive taste of his lips and how he seemed hungry for you like he couldn't get enough of you. You kissed him with the same passion. Now only you two mattered. Tomorrow Aemond and you would face anything together.

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[bks-writing-adventures]

The Prince and Princess of Death (Aemond X Ghost! Tully! Reader)

Word Count: 6.4 K

Summary: Aemond goes to Harrenhal to learn more of the world, instead, he learns about love, death, and the odd world of ghosts.

Warnings: Mentions of death, drowning, ghosts, light mentions of suicide, blood, it's low key giving Greek Tragedy but with a happy ending!

Everyone was painfully aware that Harrenhall was haunted. The whispers in the walls, the ominous things spoken in the dark, books moved and wailing carried by the winds. But in Aemond’s mind, what could a ghost do to him? There was no physical body, no pain to be caused, perhaps some sadness in seeing corpses walk, but he was confident in his ability to navigate. He simply wished to take some books and learn some new things of the world. The world that he wished to rule one day. And his mother had convinced him that this was an honor, for him to be invited in the first place. He was fantastic in his studies, and his mother was proud of that.

He didn’t have looks that could get him anywhere, so from a young age, when his face was sewn back together, he knew he would have to compensate for it. He read and read and read every book from front to back, had his own personal copies commissioned so he could write in the margins. He learned of the plants and the fish, war strategy, histories and philosophies. Only to find out that most Lords didn’t care to discuss such things. 

It seemed most men were more interested in ladies and whores and wine. That, and the weather. The gods forsaken weather. But the moment he tried to bring up cloud formations, odd looks were shot his way. The one positive, however, was that Grover Tully had heard of his habits and sent an invite for him to come to Harrenhal for some days to study the rich history and plant diversity. There was no question about whether he would go, his grip on his reins tight as Vhagar slid across the rocky ground. The air was wet and smelled of things he could not identify, and yet, he was excited to learn, marching his way up to the castle that was once grand. 

It was still the largest, yes, but there were leaks and cracks and full chunks missing. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to sleep inside, to have water trickle into your room and bats tap against your walls. But soon, he wouldn’t have to imagine, going right up to one of the holes and sliding in. It was dark, and the air felt thick and warm with light. He followed the candles, and smiled from the corridor as he saw the Lords and his daughters in the Great Hall, waiting for his arrival. “Ah, I see I used the wrong entrance,” He called out, making them jump. And to his delight, they seemed to find humor in his words. 

“Ah, Prince Aemond! I am glad you could make it,” Lord Tully was kinder than expected. His eye narrowed, and he was hunting for undertones. For violence, or perhaps, teasing. He knew the game of court, and he knew the way of tongues. And he knew that when most people spoke, they did not truly mean the words that escaped them. But this old man, he was all chuckles and drunkenness. A little tipsy as he stumbled to the dining table.

 “Please, join us for our evening meal!” He called out, waving him over. He was hesitant for a moment, and as he walked, he could swear that he felt footsteps beside him, copying him, holding him. He tried not to look, but after a moment, he glanced over. And though he could see nothing- no, this was his brain playing tricks on him. He had read about this, the placebo effect. If he truly believed the place was haunted, he would begin to feel things, to hear things that were not there at all. Clearing his throat, he sat at the first seat available. Lord Tully had three daughters, and they looked similar to him. Slightly masculine in nature, their shoulders wide and their features strong, but there was a sweetness. 

He could believe they were triplets, if he were told. They had curls of ginger that rippled out like waves of the sea, and jewelry on their fingers, all of them matching. As he sat on the chair, they looked at him, a curl in their lips as if contemplating whether or not to speak. “Perhaps the Prince would like a different chair, this one is far more comfortable,” Lord Tully spoke, a bit of tension in his voice. Aemond could tell that he had broken an unknown rule, standing up and relocating. 

“My apologies, I was not made aware of your preference,” He spoke, his hands on the armrests. 

“We should have informed you. That chair belonged to my late daughter, (Y/N). We keep it open for her,” The thought saddened him, but he tried not to show it on his face. He tried to think of what that would be like. Despite living with his family, he felt that he was greatly distanced from them. He and Aegon did not speak often. Sometimes, Aegon would speak to him, but only to taunt and ask for coin when he ran out. He liked Helaena, and sitting with her, but she was not much of a chatterbox. Though they did share a connection, he liked to think, through the trauma they shared. He was pushed away for his looks, whereas she was pushed away for her mind. He was close with his mother and not with his father, and his uncle? Forget about it. But to see this family, leaving a chair open for their dead kin. It touched him, in a way. 

“Of course,” He nodded, looking down at the meal that he was served. Fish, buttery and flaky and smothered in bread crumbs to mask the flavor of the off season. Wine that was more bitter than what he was used to, but he drank it anyway. He knew to respect the space, and to nod as they asked him questions.

 “Do you like being a Prince?” One of the ladies asked, to which he nodded.

 “Sometimes. I am very lucky, I don’t know the feeling of an empty stomach or the pain of not having fine clothes. But the responsibilities are heavy, and the court is boring,” He smiled, trying to coax out some laughter, some approval from this group he would be spending his time with. 

“So, I hear that you read a lot. Have you ever considered writing anything of your own?” Lord Tully asked, his mouth full of potato. Aemond thought about the question for a moment, rolling it around in his head. “Perhaps one day. But I am now too young to be an expert on anything. And I am not much of a storyteller, i’m afraid. I am more fascinated with history and science,” He answered, and as his eyes wandered the table, he could swear that a figure filled the seat of the dead lady. He blinked, and as his brows scrunched together, his eye squinting, she was still there. Her gown soft and white, her eyes matching as they seemed to wander the room, her face warm from the candle light. 

“I’m sorry, do you-” He paused, staring at the table. 

“Yes. She comes and goes as she pleases,” One of the ladies spoke up, and when he looked again, she vanished. His heart thumped in ihs chest, and he squirmed in discomfort. They were so casual about it, and he held his breath in his cheeks.

 “Oh. I- I see.” He mumbled quietly. He tried to ease his mind. Surely this was just a joke they were playing, having one of their maids come and run away. He bent his head to look under the table, to see if a jester was hiding beneath it. But there was nothing, nothing but shoes and the ends of frilly skirts. 

“So, no writing for you, then?” Lord Tully asked, and he quickly shook his head. 

“What do you think happens when we die? Do you believe in the Seven?” One of the ladies asked, resting her face in her palms. They had a breathy way of speaking, as if they had just ran all around. 

“Yes, my lady. I am quite passionate in my faith. I visit the Sept quite frequently with my mother, and I have read the Seven Pointed Star more times than I can count on my fingers,” He responded pridefully. 

“Hm.” She hummed shortly. “It is all nonsense,” She hummed softly, putting her utensils down. “I am retiring for the night, good night, father!” She spoke, and like ducklings, her sisters followed, giving their father a kiss on the forehead before rushing off to their chambers. He sat in awkward silence for a moment before the Lord spoke up.

 “Do not mind them, they are young and questioning things and mourning their sister,” He said gently, pouring himself a new chalice of wine. Aemond nodded, folding his napkin over his plate, rubbing his hands together.

 “I understand. My father is not doing entirely well these days, I feel as though my mother acts as though he is already gone,” He admitted, his face flushing. He did not know why he admitted it, to a stranger, nonetheless. Lord Tully nodded, giving him an understanding smile. 

“That is how it tends to be, is it not? I mourned my (Y/N) long before she was gone,” He said quietly, and Aemond stared at him for a second, trying to pick up more clues. 

“And… how did your daughter die, may I ask?” The words felt unnatural, and his voice came out soft, almost warm. Lord Tully did not seem the slightest bit uncomfortable as he responded. “A drowning incident. But there was so much more than that. I remember, some weeks before her death she began to have a curiosity for the unknown. My daughter always wanted to write an epic story of the sea, and i’ve searched aimlessly for whatever she may have. A page, a sentence, but I come back empty handed. I suppose she was on one of her adventures, the late night or the early morning, we will never know. But she washed up with afternoon tea. My eldest, Mae, went to fetch her for cake and cream. When they could not find her, they went to her favorite spot It was her favorite, because it was where the small stuff would wash up. 

She couldnt be more than a few feet away from the most beautiful shell i’ve ever seen. She was facing the sky, like she was only sunbathing. But to see her, her tongue purple and her eyes open like that.. It is something that I will not live long enough to forget,” He spoke, his voice going melancholic before he suddenly pressed his palms against his table. “But enough about our suffering. How was your meal?” He asked. This family discussed death like the Lords spoke of the weather. 

“Oh! It was, very good. Is that- was that white fish?” he asked, making the Lord chuckle. 

“Cod! The finest of fish. I find it pairs best with orange wine, but alas, we have run out,” He responded. “Now, allow me to show you to the guest chambers. You are lucky, it is right near the library. Feel free to read anything you want, I only ask that you do not read and eat, and do not take the old text outside, the sun will bleach the pages,” He said, and Aemond nodded as he soaked up the information like a sponge. The chambers were.. Well, they left much to be desired. There was a nice big bed, a fire place, a table to put his things, a few bottles of water, a small couch. But the trees screamed outside, and rain drops flew in with the wind. There was an empty wardrobe, dusty from lack of care. 

“Thank you, My Lord.” he spoke, placing his things down. He preferred to travel light. A change of clothes, some night wear, a few extra eyepatches, his own quill and journal to keep track of his studies. He sighed as he changed into his soft, cotton night clothes- and as he looked in the mirror, his heartbeat quickened as a hand touched his torso. He let out a loud sound, whipping around to try and figure out what was there, his hand wrapping around the handle of his dagger. He didn’t call out into the dark, he stayed quiet as he inched toward the wardrobe, pulling the wooden doors open. Nothing. Slowly, he turned. He could feel something touching his hair, his hand moving wildly through the strands, trying to shake something out. 

He could hear a giggle, and when he turned, he could finally see something. The soft silhouette of a woman going out the door, except, of course, she did not open it- she simply went through it, giggling down the hall. He could hear the pitter patter of her feet, his mouth parted as he opened the door, rushing down the hall, trying to figure out where the creature was going. He wasn’t supposed to believe in all this, but it was right before his eye. He could reach out and touch her, if she let him. “Hello?” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm. He slowly approached a door, one that’s knob was becoming worn down from touches, from going in and out. His fingers curved so naturally around it, and he drew in a deep breath as he slowly opened it. It howled with a creak, and he winced at the noise, looking around, as though someone would call him on his trespassing. He slowly made his way inside, and he softened at the sight. It was brighter than the other rooms, the walls splashed with blue and covered in small paintings, lazy swirls and hand prints.

 He lifted his hand to the dark blue paint, biting his lip as he pressed his handprint over the one forever stained into the wall. His hand was much larger, covering up the mark with the width of his palm. His brows scrunched together, and he felt connected to it, her, whatever this entity was. Even if it was just for a moment. The giggle tickled his ears again, and he turned his head to look at the bed. A shadow rested on it, hidden by a sheer canopy, seashells stitched into the fabric. He didn’t know what compelled him to move forward, but before he knew it, he was staring down at her, and she was staring up at him. He pushed the fabric aside, sitting down on the bed. It was soft, squishy. “My Lady?” he whispered softly as the moon dragged across the blankets. The light made her show, the outline of her nose, the fuzzy halo of her hair. He was talking to the air, to the mere idea of something. But he continued. 

“Are you there?” He asked. Slowly, he could see her becoming more solid. Becoming alive as the night aged, as the stars twinkled in the sky, and when the next breeze came, he could feel her hair brushing his nose. He smiled faintly at the feeling, reaching out to touch it. It felt like spun sugar, weightless in his hands. He should be afraid. Of himself, for being insane enough to see this. To believe it.

 “Can you speak?” he asked. There was a soft hum, and it echoed off the walls, crawling into his ear and sliding across his brain.

 “You are warm,” Her voice felt like a song, and he felt heat rising into his cheeks. He had read fables. Every culture seemed to have a different interpretation of the sleeping ladies. Women who killed themselves, who were silenced in their lifetimes, returning to whisper to lost souls and sleeping sailors. The Tully had drowned, and yet, as he looked at her now- she seemed enchanted. Like a mermaid hundreds of feet in the waves, hair flowing around, her skin tinted blue with the ocean. And yet her face remained full, and her skin glowed. She was not frightening at all. And slowly, she leaned closer.

 “I am warm?” He repeated back to her, reaching out his hand. He wanted to touch her, to feel how cold her skin must be. To wonder if she really was as her sisters said, still swimming in the sea. 

“Yes. Like fire.” She whispered back, and when their skin touched, he felt a sting rush up his arm. Like a million needles penetrating his skin. He grunted, yanking his hand back, staring at it with a bewildered expression. Maybe ghosts could hurt. “It is alright,” She whispered, reaching out again. Her hands moved unnaturally, as if they were flowing around like the tentacles of a jellyfish. “Please don’t hide from me,” Her voice was melting him like butter, and much to his displeasure, he gave in. He let her run her cold hands along his nose, over the base of his brows. “You are so beautiful. So alive.” She studied him like she had never seen a human being before, smiling as she touched his hair.

 “I would hope so,” He said hesitantly, getting a bit closer. “Are you the drowned lady?” He asked, brows raised.

 “Is that what they call me now?” She asked. He smiled, she was teasing him. He could see dimples in her cheeks, a slight tilt in his head. His mind wandered as he looked at her. She still came to her room, she still haunted this house. 

“Why are you here?” He asked.

 “This is my room,” She responded matter-of-factly. He smiled at her, licking his lips as his eyes continued to wander. There were shells everywhere, articles of clothing, her wardrobe still parted. It was painted with light blue and pink, and her socks were still on the floor with the muddy imprints of sand and toes. Her family probably hadn’t touched anything since she died. Including jars of water that were beginning to mold. 

“I know that, but.. Here, in this realm. You aren’t in the Heavens or the Hells,” He said softly. She hummed, slowly getting up. Her dress danced in unnatural ways, the fabric flapping and floating all around her, glowing dots across her back in the shape of a fish.

 “There are the Heavens, the Hells, and Harrenhal.” She responds, reaching out her hand to touch her wardrobe, being sure to stay in the light of the moon. Her hand reached out, and she knocked her knuckles against the wood. The sound echoed, and she smiled softly. “I stay here for my sisters. But I can go anywhere in the world,” She spoke fondly, as if death were a vacation. 

“Is this what happens? To everyone who dies here?” he asked. He hadn’t seen any other ghosts, at least, as far as he was aware. She didn’t respond to his question, only continuing to wander in her own little world. 

“You are the boy who reads.” She says, her big eyes looking at him. It was a bit hard to tell where she was focusing, as she no longer had irises. She just looked.. Vacant, in a way. The sight made shivers run up his spine. 

“I am, I read a lot. Does that interest you?” He asked. Never in his life did he think that he would be flirting with a ghost. She rolled her eyes, he could tell in the twitch of her eyelashes. 

“But you do not write,” She spoke. Ah, she had been listening in. Only then, at the dinner table, he hadn’t realized just how real she was.

 “I don’t- well, not publicly, anyways. But I enjoy journaling,” He couldn’t believe that he was saying all of this out loud.

 “When I was alive, I always wanted to write the best of stories. I had so much to say,” She says softly, and he can see her roaming the room to the bookshelves, caressing all the spines. Her words hit his heart, and he slowly rises to join her. “Death is very lonely. Most of my friends have left to the other side, but there is still business for me, here. It is a shame I cannot talk to my sisters,” She says gently, slowly picking up a book. It seems to fight her touch as she pulls the brittle pages open.

 “But I am talking to you right now, My Lady. How is it that I can hear you and they cannot?” He asked, to which she shrugged.

 “Quite the curious thing, isn’t it? If only there were a handbook for the dead. I fear that everything I do is a wildcard. I never know what will come of it. It is only in this room that my touch can travel into the real world,” She said, and as though to prove it, she reached out and pinched his cheek. He thought her touch would be cold and haunting. But it felt warm, and it reached into his heart, squeezing it tight. He had to fight the urge to lean into her. 

“So what happens now?” He asked. He could not tell where this was going, or why he was here in the first place.

 “I suppose I can only beg you to keep me company. What have I missed in the world?” She asked, and they spent hours staring at the ceiling as he told her of war overseas, of family drama, of insecurities that he kept well hidden. 

“LIfe is too short to be insecure, My Prince,” She responded, to which he scoffed. He almost answered with something petty, but he quickly stopped himself. It was hard to remember that she wasn’t truly here, especially when she felt so real. So real that everyone else seemed fake. It was a shame, he could see himself falling in love with her. He had no desire to marry in Riverrun, and in his luck, he had fallen for the one woman he literally could not have. Not in any way. 

“I suppose you’re right. But at least I do not intend to go swimming in the deep sea for shells,” He teased, holding his breath as he hoped for a laugh. Maybe joking about her death was in poor taste, but to his relief, she smiled. 

“No, but you do frequently find yourself in the skies on the back of a scaly beast,” She said in return. He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached to play with her hair.

 “Vhagar is no beast, she is a companion,” He responded, sighing as his touch reached to her nose and cheeks. 

“I still cannot believe that I died in the sea,” She mumbles softly. “How fragile life is. But at the end of the day, we are just a bag of skin and bones. You drop it from high enough, and it will burst,” She mumbled, to which he nodded. He hesitated before he spoke next, licking his lips. 

“I wish that we could have met when you were alive,” He mumbled softly. She gently shook her head, reaching to play with his eyepatch.

 “We wouldn’t have liked eachother then. Death has made me wiser. I fear I would have only annoyed you when I was alive,” She responded, and he nodded quietly. 

“I will probably think the same one day. When I am old and withered.” He responded, and she slowly sat up.

 “Yes, I am sure you will regret this Grim Reaper attire you storm around in,” She commented, making him scoff. 

“Many people enjoy my clothing, actually,” He teased, and she shook her head. 

“It still will not be your proudest moment… but you do look rather handsome,” She spoke, making blood burn in his cheeks. He hadn’t been called handsome, not by a lady of the court, or of course, a ghost. Only his mother when he dressed up for his nameday, or the whores who kept him company and showered him with compliments so long as he showered them with payment. He looked at her quietly, feeling his face going soft. This was so humiliating, and the only thing that would hear of it would be the parchment of his journal and the ink in his quill. “Were you this beautiful when you were alive?” He asked quietly. He was utterly captivated by her, and his brows furrowed as he watched her slowly fade with the sun rise. Like a vampire disappearing into the shadows.

 “I am uncertain. I don’t know what I look like anymore, the mirrors do not cater to souls,” She spoke, looking over at the wall. There was a round, silver backed mirror covered in seashells and little twirls of gold and twine, and inside it, he could only see his own face staring back at them.

 “Are you disappearing?” He asked quietly, reaching to touch her hand, his fingers falling right into the blankets. She smiled at him, and he could see the walls through her face.

 “Why, are you going to miss me?” She asked, brows raised as she backed into the slimming shadows. He wanted to say no, to roll his eye at the idea. But he knew he could be vulnerable with her. He found comfort in her condition, knowing that she could not go talking to people about them, about him, and the way that he was getting so gentle for her. 

“Of course, my Lady,” he responded. 

“Very good. Now, you need to get back to your rooms before my father finds you in here,” She says, moving through the wall. He wanted to respond, but as he stared at the small, bright spot in the wall, it slowly faded like a flame without air. And now his lady was gone. With a sigh, he quietly made his way back to the guest chambers, laying on his back. He hardly got any sleep before the birds were chirping, and he blinked away any sleepiness that remained. He had slept a total of two hours, but he had never felt so, well, awake. (Y/N) he woken something up inside of him, making him smile, making his heart tremor. 

He changed quickly into his day clothes before making his way down to the dining hall, walking slow in the hallways in hopes of catching her whispers. The sounds of her footsteps, a glimpse of her in the shadows. And when there was nothing, he tried to hide his disappointment. “Ah, My Prince, I see that you are awake. Feel free to help yourself to fish and toast,” Lord Tully spoke, and he bit his tongue. These people really did enjoy having fish for every meal, but he could hardly blame them. The water was where most of their wealth and resources came from, down to the clay they used to sculpt their goods. His eye wandered around the table, looking at all the faces of (Y/N)’s sisters. He could see the small resemblances.

 The slightly wild brows, the light glow of their skin. “I thought you may like to go with my daughter, Elaena, into the wetlands today. There are many exquisite creatures there, be sure to bring your books and bottles,” He nodded in response to the invitation, getting a little awkward at the idea of spending a whole day with a lady. He ate his breakfast slowly, his gaze darting to the vacant seat that haunted the table. Nothing. Not even her shadow. He sighed into his cup, stacking his plates when he finished. He took his leather bag on his shoulder, following Lady Elaena outside. 

“You met my sister last night,” She spoke matter-of-factly. He was immediately on edge, looking down at her. She was rather short, especially for a lady in the Riverlands. Her eyes were dark, and she seemed a little out of it, as if she was constantly in her own world. 

“I did. I met all of you,” He responded. He didn’t know why he felt so protective over his talks with (Y/N). They felt especially intimate. 

“Yes. Even my dead one. What did you speak of?” She asked, crouching down as their feet began to sink into the marsh. Her fingernails were stained brown and green from clay and plants. She was far from what the courts would consider feminine, and yet, she had something special about her. Maybe it was because she looked so much like (Y/N), but he felt a smile spreading on his face as he watched her. 

“How do you know of our talk?” he asked quietly. Maybe (Y/N) could actually speak to her sisters, maybe she was playing with him, trying to make him feel like some sort of chosen one.

 “I like to go to her room, when I cannot feel her anymore. She leaves notes sometimes. When I opened her diary, there was something new inside. Talk of a pretty Prince that made her dead heart sing.” She responded, grabbing his hand to make him hold a container for her. She was looking through all types of rocks, hitting some against others to make them crack in two. It was clear that she shared her sisters’ love for the wild. He blushed as she spoke, and he took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. 

“It is funny, that if I had come only some moons ago, I could speak to her in the flesh,” He said, a bit of sadness covering his face. What a life they could lie together. Spending every day like this, bent at the river, looking at the sea, collecting things and wondering what they could be. They could have even gotten married. He tried not to let his mind go so far. He was just romanticizing her, he hardly knew the girl, the ghost, and yet, she already had him. Had him in her little dead palms. 

“Perhaps. But you couldn’t have prevented her death, none of us could. I am not meant to speak of it, but everyone knows that she loved the arts. Even the ones that she was meant to stay away from. She gave her life for her discoveries, it is only a shame that none of us will ever see them. I wonder how many secrets died with her in the sea,” She mumbled solemnly. Arts that she was not meant to explore, that could only mean one thing. 

“She studied the dark magicks?” He asked, brows raised. He would say that she did not seem like the type, but between the shell-covered mirrors and her soft gaze, he could not deny that there was something magical about her. 

“I do not think that is the word for it. I do not believe any magick is dark. It is only the intensions that matter. She wished to change the world, and she did. She changed all of us the moment that last breath escaped her lungs. There is a hole that must be filled, we just do not know what to do with it. Her soul remains in our home and we have no way of freeing her. It is not a good feeling,” She mumbled softly, reaching into the water and pulling out a small fish, studying its shining scales. “I do not think she was just hunting for any seashell. It was a spell of sorts. She had to perform a ritual beneath the moon, where she had to trade something sacred of hers for a prize of her desires. I do not think she knew that she would be trading her life,” She spoke gently, standing back up. “This is an aclin pod. It creates a complex poison that can boil the skin, when it penetrates the surface. But you can eat it safely, isn’t that odd?” She asked, her eyes bright and curious as if she had not just revealed the darkest of secrets. 

“What was the prize?” He asked quietly. She simply looked at him, let out a soft hum, continuing to walk. “Elaena, what was the prize?” He asked, following behind her as they went through the forest. 

“I do not know. I do not think she knows, either. Maybe the whole thing was a great big trick,” She mumbled, and after that, the Tully did not speak again. The story swam in circles around his mind until dinner, until he was poking at a pile of potatoes, ready to get up and rush to (Y/N)’s room, to talk to her again. When the plates were finally cleared, he made the statement that he was so tired from a long day of research, saying a gentle good night as he quickly made his way up the stairs, and finally, as he was surrounded my the dark corridors, he could hear her giggles.

 “Did you miss me, my little Prince?” Her voice whispered, and he could feel the vibrations against his ears. He smiled, quickly opening the door to her room. He was worried that maybe it wouldn’t be there at all, covered in cob webs and missing all the charms. But to his relief, she was there, kneeling on the bed as she smiled up at him. “Well, did you?” She asked, brows raised. He sighed, finally kneeling in front of the bed so they could be at eye-level. 

“What do you think?” He asked softly, reaching his hands to touch the fabric that rested on her skin. It felt like nothing, like the feeling of seafoam’s caress on a sticky summer day. He played with the light blue material, wondering if there was anything underneath it.

 “I do not want to think, I want to know,” She teased, and he licked his lips. 

“Of course I missed you, My Princess,” He responded. He didn’t know what was coming over him, a mix of desire. Desire to hold her, to touch her, to cling to her, to bond with her. Just to be with her entirely. 

“I am no Princess,” She responded softly, reaching to touch his hands. It felt so good to feel their skin together, to feel her, so alive in his hands. 

“You are to me, my beautiful Princess of death,” He spoke, reaching to touch her chin, to pull her closer. She was a siren, pulling away at all the barriers between them, enchanting him, intoxicating him. Maybe that was the truth. Maybe that’s what she was now, a drowned maiden turned goddess. And he wanted to be her God. “Your sister told me the most fascinating story about you, about magick and a ritual. Is it true?” He asked softly. He was so close that his eyelashes brushed her skin, and if she had a heartbeat, he’d be able to feel it against his skin. She nodded softly, leaning forward until she could feel his breath on her face. It felt so warm. She had missed this.

 “Of course it is,” She responded. He nodded slowly, not backing away from her. In fact, he leaned closer, kissing her cheek, just to see if he could. He was pleasantly surprised to find his skin brushing against hers, to feel the heat of her cheeks. 

“And what was this great prize that you traded your life for?” He asked quietly. She didn’t say anything, leaning toward him again, aiming to kiss his mouth. The thought excited him, but he leaned away. “No, no… give me the answer first,” He spoke, holding her face. He liked the way her skin moved under his thumbs, how he could squish her cheeks like dough.

 “Love.” She responded, making his head tilt. He thought she would want great powers, or status, or to transform into a mermaid or something. But love? He wasn’t sure he saw that coming. And someone so lovely and sweet as her, so beautiful, to have to perform magick for love? It confused him greatly, but he slowly nodded.

 “And did death give you this love…?” He asked, slowly sewing the pieces together like a quilt in his mind. She smiled at him, pulling him closer until their lips could meet in a brief, small kiss. He felt his whole body burn under her, and he closed his eye, licking his lips for all the remnants of her touch.

 “I like to think so,” She mumbled into his mouth, and soon, they were kissing again and again, slipping beneath the untouched blankets of the bed, sending a cloud of dust into the air that made them both laugh. 

“I didn’t think i’d ever fall for a dead girl,” He spoke. It sounded so insane, but then again, it was probably not the oddest thing to happen to him.

 “I did not think i’d ever find my prize,” She responded, her hand landing just over his heart, feeling the foreign thump in her hand. “Aemond,” She said quietly, making his head pick up from the crook of her neck.

 “Will you join me in death?” She asked. He paused, lifting himself up as their eyes met.

 “I-” He paused, trying to figure out what it was that she was asking of him. Was she to wait the years until his body was frail and decaying? Or was she asking for something else? The answers came silently when her hand brushed over his dagger. He gazed down at her, and slowly, he complied with her request.

When the sun rose and the Second Son was stained red on the bed, it did not take a genius to know what happened. He had gone peacefully, with a smile still settled in his porcelain face like a little doll. (Y/N)’s room was tainted with death, and the scent lingered in the air even when the blankets were gone. Elaena stared as they took his body into a carriage, and she smiled to herself as soon as she could. In death, her sweet sister finally got their prize. And for decades to come, with every new guest in Harrenhal, they could hear two laughs bouncing off the dark walls, soft moans singing from the Lady’s old chambers, and every now and then, ink would paint the pages of her aged journal.

‘Let us all find love in the next life,

Sincerely,

The Prince and Princess of Death.’

Thank You to everyone who reads! This was a little different from what I usually write, but I hope its a good different!

-BK ♡

[lady-pug]

The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers

Prologue

Summary: When your former friend and current Triwizard champion Aemond Targaryen sends you a note asking you to meet him after years having last spoken to each other, you are left wondering what he could possibly want. So when, to your surprise, he asks you to be his date to the Yule Ball, you make a decision that will either mend your broken friendship with the Slytherin boy or irreparably shatter it forever.

Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader

Word count: 2,1k

Warnings: none

Notes: Hello hello, dearest readers! How have you all been? 

I offer you the prologue to a new story I am now incredibly excited to write. The idea for this came from the lovely @peachysunrize, whom I admire very much and love her works (I’ve actually been saving Tangerine Dreams for when I have enough free time to binge read it, ‘cause I know once I start I won’t be able to stop), after Mr. Ewan Mitchell was spotted serving cunt looks at the British GQ’s Men of The Year last night. It was supposed to be a one-shot howeeeeever I ended up getting a little carried away and dicided to go for a slightly longer story (so I’m so so sorry, Aemond actually wearing the infamous outfit at the Yule Ball won’t show up for a few chapters, please forgive me).

Just to explain a few details of this story: Hogwarts is in Westeros, located in the Crownlands near the border between these lands, the Reach, the Riverlands and the Stormlands. Volaena Academy of Magic is situated in Volantis, houses female students from Volantis, Pentos and Lys (equivalent to Beauxbatons) and Green Grass Institute is situated in Braavos, houses male students, mainly Dothraki, from Braavos, Pentos and Tyrosh (equivalent to Durmstrang)

I never thought I’d write a Hogwarts!AU but here we are! Although the HP/WW universe was a very important part of my childhood, I haven’t consumed any content related to it in a very long time (except for random memes on ig I often trade with a friend) because that woman (you know which one) pisses me the fuck off. But since no one will be profiting from me writing this (at least I don’t think so), and I still quite like the universe even if my love for it got diminished somewhat, I decided to give it a try. I won’t lie, I had fun!

I’d just like to warn that the next update for this series will take a little while, as I have quite a lot of work to get done (the semester is ending and Uni is kicking me in the butt once more, what’s new) and I’d like to finish writing a new chapter of Written Between the Lines, the other Aemond series I have on going, first.

Although Reader is a Tully I didn’t write her with a specific appearance in mind, and the same goes for Kermit Tully, so it is up to you to imagine what she looks like. I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it! And thank you so much @peachysunrize for coming up with the idea in the first place! If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

When you woke up on that rainy morning, you had expected it to be just another normal Tuesday, only barely over a week into the school year. The day had started out like any other: you had met with Oscar for breakfast at the Great Hall, being joined shortly after by Kermit and Davos, and avoided at all costs glancing in Cregan’s general direction. Then you had headed for your classes of the day, being paired with Doreah, a lyseni girl from Volaena, for your year-long Herbology project. 

While Doreah seemed nice, and you believed you would find a friend in her still, it was moments like this when you found yourself missing Helaena the most. You had promised to write to one another, of course, with you assuring you’d keep her updated in all the latest gossip around Hogwarts, yet it just wasn’t the same. You had become so used to seeing her at the farthest corner of the Ravenclaw table, waiting for you at supper, or sneaking out of the Hufflepuff common room together and into the kitchens to arrange snacks for your late night study sessions that you didn’t realize how much you’d miss this small things until she was actually gone, only just starting her career as a Magientomologist. Still, all you had to do was survive one more year until you could take your N.E.W.T.s and leave this place to search for a career of your own, and perhaps achieve your dream of sharing a flat with your best friend.

It was only after you left your Defense Against the Dark Arts class, having been squished between two quite large dothraki students from Green Grass, that you noticed something was different. A small piece of parchment was sticking out from inside your book, yet you didn’t remember putting it there; while you often used random papers as bookmarkers, it didn’t seem to be the case here, as the pages holding the parchment were ones you did not remember having ever read. As you turned the paper around you realized it was not just some paper, it was in fact a note, and you wondered how someone managed to place it inside your book, as you hadn’t left it unattended at all. But as you read the words, it would soon become clear to you.

Meet me at the library after dinner ~ A. T. 

The note carried a neat, flourished handwriting, written in expensive green ink. And yet, as your eyes skimmed over the words once more your heart started beating faster and faster, the flow of blood seemingly thundering on the inside of your eardrums. A. T., the person had signed. 

Aemond Targaryen.

What could he possibly want with you? Him, of all people? After all these years? Why did he want to speak to you now? It made sense then, how the note had appeared in your book without you realizing it; Aemond was quite good at Transfiguration, one of the top students even (but was there anything he wasn’t good at?), he excelled in it so for him to conjure a note inside your book was a piece of cake. But that didn’t explain what he wanted.

Sighing, you crumpled the paper in your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pondered upon a decision you were most likely to regret.

There was only one way to find out.

You were quiet during supper, deep in thought as you poked at your food. Kermit and Davos both believed it had to do with the fact that Cregan and Alysanne were sitting right in front of you at the Gryffindor table, choosing then to sit on the bench across the table from you to try and block your view from the happy couple. But only Oscar knew the real reason for your silent demeanor.

Even though Kermit was your twin, you often felt closer to your younger brother, especially after you and Kermit got sorted to different houses on your first year, him being a Gryffindor through and through and you becoming the true embodiment of a Hufflepuff, and Oscar being selected for the same house as yours a year later. In truth, Oscar just understood you better and the other way around was also true, so you ended up becoming one another's confidants, telling each other everything and anything. So once you got back to the common room you had immediately spilled the beans about the mysterious note you had received.

He had begged you not to go. He just knew that whatever Aemond wanted couldn’t possibly be good. Not after everything. But you were curious, and although he would never admit to it, his curiosity on the back burner in face of his concern for you, so was he. So he agreed to your plan of simply listening to what Aemond had to say and leaving. 

Or that would have been the plan, had what Aemond asked not left you completely flabbergasted.

Arriving at the library, now almost completely void of students, save for one or two first year nerds, you noticed Aemond was already there, punctual as ever.

“You came.” he seemed surprised as he raised from his chair, the book he had been absentmindedly flipping through forgotten over the hardwood table.

You shrugged, not willing to let him see how affected you were by his presence.

“Let’s hear it then.” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

“What?” 

“You called me here for a reason, right? What do you want?”

“Can I not just wish to see an old friend?” it was his turn to shrug.

You scoffed, gritting your teeth as you glanced away from him. Old friend my ass, you thought. You weren’t friends. Not anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.

“Right.” he must have noticed something in your expression, for he dropped the innocent act “I need your help.”

What could he possibly need your help with?

“Be my date for the Yule Ball.”

What?

“What, why?” you were honestly dumbfounded by his suggestion, because that was what it was; it wasn’t a question, it was closer to a demand. And how dare he demand something from you?

“It is mandatory for the champions to dance at the Ball. And for that they need a partner.”

That’s right, Aemond had been selected as the champion to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament against Green Grass and Volaena. The professors had explained what that entailed, and how dangerous it could be, and for a fleeting moment, your heart twinged in worry over him, before it was snuffed out and replaced by the usual cold indifference you felt towards him. Furthermore, they had let all students know that a special ball would be held at Christmas, and that all three champions were required not only to attend but to dance as well.

“I know that.” you huffed, feeling a little offended “I mean why me?”

His stare turned quizzical, as if he couldn’t quite possibly understand what you were implying.

“Why not take your girlfriend?” you asked, confused “I mean, she may have graduated already, but professor Mellos said we could bring dates from outside the school.”

He glanced away from you, his expression turning dark for a split second, before returning his gaze to you.

“Alys and I broke up over summer.” he said with a nonchalance you suspected to be fake.

You wanted to ask, you were desperate to know why, but you had to remind yourself it was none of your business. His life was none of your business and it was better that way.

“Why not some other girl then? They seem to line up for your attention nowadays. Floris has always had a thing for you.”

Aemond was already considered a pretty boy even for normal standards, always having one admirer or another. It lessened a bit after he started dating Alys, a sixth year student, in his fourth year in school, but you knew for a fact people still pinned after him in silence. But after he was named Hogwarts’ triwizard champion, a lot of girls and even some guys flocked around him, vying for his undivided attention. You knew most of them would die for a chance to be his date at the Ball, to be his even if only for one night.

“It would give them the false hope that something more could happen when it won’t.” he tipped his chin, staring at you from under his lashes, and something in the way he was looking at you was deeply unsettling “At least we know where we stand with one another.”

Ouch.

“Why would I ever agree to go with you?”

“Well you certainly aren’t going with Stark, that’s for sure.” the corner of his lip twitch in the tiniest of smirks.

A pang of shame assaulted your heart, heat spreading in your chest and settling in your cheeks.

“How do you know about that?” your voice faltered, small and almost afraid. 

His face fell, then, as if he didn’t expect this reaction from you.

“Everyone knows about it.” 

Humiliation burned in your chest, the sting of tears steadily brimming in your eyes forcing you to glance away from him to stop yourself from breaking down in front of him. Great, now the whole school (and perhaps even the other two guest schools) knew how your boyfriend of four, almost five years had dumped you and practically immediately after started dating your cooler, prettier, hotter cousin. He couldn’t even be bothered to show his face, he had broken up with you through a letter, a majestic white owl bringing the news one summer morning.           

“No.” you sniffled, daring yourself not to cry, and turning away from him, ready to leave and forget this conversation ever happened.

“Wait!” he grabbed your arm, halting your movements. His face was soft when you glanced back at him, something akin to guilt clouding his own features “Please. Just- please.”

That was new. For as long as you had known him, you knew one thing was certain: Aemond Targaryen didn’t beg. For him to stoop this low, at least for his standards, must mean he was indeed desperate.

“What’s in it for me?” you asked in turn.

He pondered for a moment, a surprised look on his face, as if he didn’t expect to get this far into the conversation.

“You’ll get to make Stark jealous?” he offered, and you chuckled mirthlessly in response.

“I don’t want to make him jealous.” and you couldn’t even if you tried, not in comparison to Alysanne of all people “I just want to move on from him.”

“Then you’ll get to show him just that. That you have moved on from him and are already seeing new people.”

His reasoning made sense and you were intrigued, sure, especially considering you weren’t totally over Cregan just yet. But it definitely wasn’t worth the hassle.

“And I’ll help you study for your History of Magic N.E.W.T!” he was quick to add.

Now that was a really tempting offer. History of Magic was one of the subjects you struggled with the most, having a really hard time memorizing all the dates and events, ever since your very first year. And you knew he was well versed in history; he studied the subject even when not required, just for fun. To have someone like him help you study would definitely help you not fail the test.

“Okay.” you sighed out between, biting your tongue “I’ll be your date to the Yule Ball.”

His face lit up then, almost bouncing in his heels from excitement, before feigning indifference.

“Good.” he nodded to himself “We’ll have to spend more time together until then.”

“I didn’t agree to that!” you squealed, the thought of spending any more time than necessary with him making you uneasy.

“We need to be convincing. Otherwise Stark will see right through it.”

He was right. Of course he was right.

“Fine then. When do we start?”

He smiled brightly then, and for a moment you saw that young boy he once was, the one who held your hand on the first train ride to school all those years ago.

“I’ll find you for breakfast tomorrow then and we can go to Potions together. After lunch we can start revising History. How does that sound?”

It could be worse.

“Alright by me, I guess.” 

Aemond grinned cheekily, and you knew then that you were screwed. 

“It’s a date then.” he sauntered away, but not before throwing you a quick wink to match his smirk.

Oscar was going to kill you.

[knight-of-flowerss]

1-800-BARBIE FIC

masterlist

Links:

Viserys, Aemma, Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron.

Rhaenyra, Harwin, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey.

Daemon, Laena, Baela, Rhaena.

Corlys, Rhaenys, Laenor, Joffrey, Alyn, Addam.

Cregan, Sara, Sabitha, Alysanne, Benjicot, Odette, Oscar.

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

[its-actually-minicika]

so I did a thing after I saw another creator on Tumblr reblog a similar ask.

you can't argue w that to be fair

I laughed for a solid five minutes while reading this PLEASE

It doesn't count, because you asked Aemond about his own wrongdoings 🤥

But seriously - ya'll send me more of these, I LOVE THEM

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 95: The Battle of the Dragonseeds.

Master List

Previous Part - Next Part 

138 -  King’s Landing

Visenya didn’t know what she was feeling.  The overwhelming emotions of grief and anger in her stomach.  She doesn’t know how things have gotten this bad, how she has lost two brothers, one by her husband's dragon and the other by her fleet, and how her family is set on destroying each other over a stupid chair made of stupid swords.  

The Riverland army had made quick work of surrounding the city's gates—the largest cluster of men in front of the Gate of the Gods.  The small dragon that is Seasmoke can be seen flying in the sky, and no doubt that is the reason that the soldiers of the crown were not initiating violence with the Reds. 

Visenya and Ben noted the apparent lack of the monstrous Vhagar as Morghon landed just outside the camp.  The ride from the Westerlands had been silent, Visenya not uttering a single word and only focusing on the sky before her.  

Ben is careful as he jumps off Morghon, staring up at Visenya and waiting for her to dismount her dragon.  Maybe he would have stayed on Morghon to ensure she got off Morghon first; part of him worries that she will take off and set King’s Landing ablaze or maybe even Dragonstone.  

Relief fills Ben as Visenya dismounts Morghon, and Rob joins his side.  

“I trust that you had fun in the West,” Rob breaks the silence as Visenya moves away from her dragon.  Morghon quickly takes off and joins Cannibal in the sky.  Neither Ben nor Visenya answered Rob, leaving him wondering if his question was inappropriate.   “What?”

“Prince Jacaerys is dead,” Visenya informs Rob, eyes scanning the army behind her two friends.  

Rob looks to Ben, who nods to confirm Visenya's words.  He had seen the Prince being shot out of the sky and then eaten by Cannibal; he heard the scream Visenya had let out, the commands she had shouted from Morghons back.  

Rob takes a deep breath; he knows that not a single one of the lords loyal to Visenya would blame her for the death, that they would blame someone else.  But Rob would have to do some damage control if Visenya had been the one to kill the prince.  

The hand of the Queen straightens himself as he leans closer to Visenya; he does not want only one outside the circle to hear his words. 

“Were you the one to-”

“My brother is dead, and you want to know if I was the one to do it? What? Are you scared that I will be labelled a Kinslayer?” Visenya cuts Rob off, her tone, unlike anything she had taken with him.  A look he does not recognize burns in her eyes as she steps towards him; Rob would have been worried that Visenya would harm him if she had a woman on her body, but lucky for him, he does not.  

“My Queen-”

“It was the Ironborn; they shot him out of the sky,” Visenya finally tells him, her voice breaking towards the end of her sentence.   “It’s my fault; I gave them scorpions.  I should have made him return to Dragonstone or just given him the victory,” 

Ben and Rob share a look, worry spreading through them as they realize that Visenya is breaking.  Ben is the first to move, stepping before Visenay as he grabs her arm.  Aemond would be the best person to calm her down but he is nowhere to be seen.  

“Visenya, you can not lose it now, not when we are this close to winning,” Ben tells her, his voice low and calm, hoping his calmness affects her.  

“I didn’t want anyone to die.  I didn’t want my family to kill each other,” She says, more to herself than to Rob or Ben.  Her voice cracks as she speaks, tears threatening to spill.  

“Then you have to take the throne, stop this war and prevent anyone else from dying,”  Ben tells her, wanting her to realise that she does have the power to stop the killing.  

Visenya lets Ben's words sink in.  She has the power to stop this war; if she doesn’t, then who will be the next to die?  Her.  Aemond.  Ben.  Rob. What of the Blacks demanded one of her children again?  Gods forbid that more dragon blood is spilt for a clump of swords.  

“What are our standings?” Visenya breaks the silence, looking at Rob.  

“Half of the Riverlands men are here, and the Reach is holding well against the Lannisters,” Rob informs her.

“And have we sent conditions to the Greens and Blacks?” Visenya asks, hoping that it wouldn’t come to bloodshed. 

“We have,” Rob answers, the conditions for both sides had been rejected.   Both sides want to win rather than surrender.  Not only was it because of their pride but also because if they were to surrender, they would be the ones who committed treasons. “They both refuse to surrender,” Rob adds; he had been hopeful that the two sides would surrender and there would be no need for a battle.   A fight with dragons that they would surely win with their advantage.  

“I don’t want to put them under siege for long.  We have the manpower and dragon advantage, so we should use it,” Visenya comments as she looks around the camp for Aemond.  Maybe he had taken Vhagar out for a ride to clear his mind like he does when stressed.  

“We are one dragon short,” Robs informs Visenya.   Rob had wanted to keep Visenya in the dark about the absence of one of their dragons, not wanting her mind to be clouded with worry.  

“What?” 

“The Prince Consort had to return to Harrenhal,” Rob continues his sentence, feeling proud that he is the one to inform Visenya, even with the intense stare coming from his younger brother and Rob.  

“Had to? Why did my husband have to return to Harrenhal?” Visenya asks Rob, the last thing she needs is to be separated from Aemond.  

“He did not say,” Rob answered, he could have tried harder to make the new Prince consort stay with them, but he had made it clear that he would be returning to Harrenhal no matter who he had to hurt.  

Visenya takes a deep breath; she doesn’t only need Aemond with them because of Vhagar but because she needs his presence.  She needs him to stay stable during this.   But maybe Aemond knew something she did not; maybe Helaena’s last words had to inform him of something.  

That is what she tells herself.  That Aemond has a reason to leave isn't the captive she had placed in the dungeon of the ruined castle.  

Harrenhal is a short flight away; she could collect her husband and return for the siege.  

“Visenya, where are you going?” Ben asks as Visenya turns her back to them, making her way back to the clearing.  The two giant dragons are already circling the newly cleared field.  

“To Harrenhal,” She curtly answers as Morghon lands in the field with Cannibal flying close to the ground.  

Ben shoots his brother a look before he follows Visenya.  He knows what she is feeling and knows her well enough that she isn’t thinking clearly, but even if she decides to go to Harrenhal, he will gladly go with her.     

“You just said that we should take King’s Landing,” Rob shouts after her, trying to keep up with her quickness to get on her dragon.   Surely he and Ben could stop Visenya from getting on her dragon.  

“And we will when Aemond is back,” Visenya tells him; she will not take the capital without Aemond.  Something doesn’t sit well in her stomach, telling her that she needs to go to Harrenhal, and she needs to be by Aemond’s side. 

“If we do not act now, then the Blacks will take King’s Landing-” Rob tells her but stops himself. She doesn’t stop unless he makes her realise that if they do not act now, everything they have done is for nothing.  “Then everything we have sacrificed will be for nothing,”

Rob smiles as Visenya stops walking, Morghon watching the trio with closed eyes.  The dragon is waiting for Visenya to make a move.  Ben looks at Rob, giving a stern look before he pulls Visenya slightly away from her dragon, turning her around so that she faces him.  

“Aemond will be fine.  With his big scary dragon,” Ben assures Visenya, holding tightly onto her shoulders, hoping it grounds her somehow.  

“How soon can we take the city?” Visenya asks, nodding to Morghon for him to leave.   Part of her is screaming at her that she is doing the wrong thing, that she should get on her dragon, fly to Harrenhal, and bring Aemond back by the ear.  

“As soon as you give the word, My Queen,” Rob answers, glad that Ben had been able to talk her down. 

– – 

Before she had arrived, Rob had made sure to set up a tent fit for a queen.  He didn’t know how long they would be putting the capital under siege, so he wanted to ensure that Visenya would have a place she would be comfortable with.  A comfortable bed and a war table would no doubt be used for their small council meetings.  But for now, it would serve her as a peaceful place to eat her meals.  

Unlike the rest of the lords or high-ranking people in her army, Visenya had chosen to eat the same thing as her soldiers.  The only luxury she had chosen was a herbal tea that Ben made for her to help ease her nausea.   The smell and taste of the tea bring her some refile, a reminder of a simpler and happier time seeing as how he would always give it to her to soothe her morning sickness. 

Visenya can’t help but wonder how her life has turned out like this.  Putting the capital into siege.   Alone in a tent where the only sound comes from the outside. She wants her children, her sweet girl Daenys and her boys.   Aenar is a babe, yet she feels she has spent more time away from him than with him.  Her Laenor who is reminds her so much of her brother Joffery.  And Aemond.  

Even if he were sitting with her now, it would make the pain of not seeing their children just a little more bearable.  To have him by her side as he eases her nerves with his smooth words.  To ease the small amount of pain she still bears from past events.

The pain in Visenyas hands and wrists had long faded; now she only feels the ever-so-ping of pain.  Ben had confirmed that she would no longer be able to use a few of her fingers and that she would be at risk of further damage if she overworked her still-healing wrist.  

Visenya wishes she had the talent to dream of what is to come, like Helaena.  Oh, how she misses her.   Visenya knows that if she is to take the city dn throne, she will do everything in her power to ensure that sweet Helaena is safe and cared for, not only by her and Aemond but also by the Blackwood night. 

– – 

The taking of King’s Landing had started off in favour of the Reds.  Having the men, dragon, and sea advantage.   

The Riverland men are ready to cut down any man in their way.  It seemed that the people of King’s Landing had been prepared to hide away in their houses, letting the Reds army take the city.  

 The few warships that the royal fleet did have were no match to the Velaryon fleet.  

And as for the dragons, Sunfyre and his rider were nowhere to be found.  Dreamfyre is chained away in the dragonpit, withered in the pain she can feel from Helaena.   

There have only been a handful of times that Visenya had not been confident in her dragon-riding abilities.  Times where she has truly felt scared or unsafe on Morghon.  She had grown up with Morghon, been to war with him.  They had shared a cradle with one another, and their bond rivalled that of Daemon and Caraxes or her late grandmother and Meleys.   And as much as she loves the people in her life, Morghon is the one who knows her the best.  Their bond is unlike most dragonriders and their dragons.  

She always felt safe on Dragonback, but now, as scorpion bolts shoot past her, she is truly scared.  She wonders if this is how Rhaenys felt on Meraxes and if the late Queen was also scared in her final moments on Dragonback.  

Even with the fear burning in her stomach, Morghon did not share the same fear.   The young dragon had been to war before, he had been shot with a scorpion bolt before, but the man behind the scorpion was an ironborn with shit skills and not a trained member of the Kingsguard.  

All it takes is one good shoot. One man with a good enough aim to shoot Morghon in the eye.  Or a group of dragonseeds with their new dragons to take her down.  

Or having another dragon attack hers.  

A dragon like Vermithor or Silverwing.

Visenya almost finds the lack of knowledge of dragon-riding humorous as Morghon lays waste to the royal fleet, her eyes primarily focused on the two dragons she can see.   Cannibal and Seasmoke provided air intimidation while burning down any scorpions they saw.  

Vermithor is the first dragon to strike, his newest rider having a fire to prove himself.  Taking out the Red Queen would be able to quench it.  Silverwing follows closely after the dragon, the bond between the two dragons stronger than the one they have with their bastard riders. 

Vermithor doesn’t waste any time, bombarding Morghon and Visenya with flames.  The younger dragon makes the mistake of baring his stomach to protect Visenya from the flames.  

“Daor Morghon!” Visenya screams at her dragon, instinctively wrapping the reins around her arms as she tightens her legs around the saddle.  “Embrot!” 

No Morghon! Back!

Morghon listens to Visenya flying back from Vermithor with his stomach still towards the older dragon.  Vermithor doesn’t waste the opportunity of attacking Morghon, listening to his new rider as he sinks his teeth into Morghons neck, using his back feet to dig into Morghons underbelly.  

The cries of Morghon are loud, unlike anything he has ever let out.  Going into pure flight or fight response as he sinks his teeth into Vermithors neck, taking chunk after chunk out of the bronze fury.   

Visenya had never seen two dragons fight before, taking out pieces of each other's flesh as the air became hot and drowned in the scent of blood.  Part of her feels like she can feel the pain seeping through the bond, pain in her neck and lower stomach, but maybe she is just imagining it all.  And as she screams commands for Morghon to realise the elder dragon and fly away, it seems to fall on deaf ears.  

Any other dragon rider would have released themself from the saddle and prayed to survive the fall into Blackwater Bay.  But Visenya would never leave Morghon, and even if she did want to leave him.  The braces had long since seized, preventing her from bending her fingers and realising herself from the saddle.  

Visenya is too worried about Morghon to realise the looming presence of Silverwing behind her.  

Cannibal is quick to sense that something is wrong.  That Visenya is in danger, even though Cannibal had wanted to stay close to Seasmoke so that he would have a chance of eating the smaller dragon.  The bond, the primal fear that is admitted from Visenya, drives him away from the city and towards the tangled mess of dragons in the sky.

Cannibal wastes not a second more before he joins the fight, going for the smaller dragon that is Silverwing.  His teeth seep into the dragon's flesh as he rips the she-dragon away from Visenya.  

As soon as the dragon's blood enters Cannibal's mouth, it sends him into a frenzy.  His eyes roll back as he rips apart the she-dragon.  

Vermithor roar of anguish rips through the air as Cannibal rips Silverwing apart, parts of the dragon falling into Blackwater Bay as Cannibal does what he does best.  The crashing emotion of grief gives Morghon a second to flee, flying away from Vermithor and toward the sky.   The drive to keep himself and his rider alive pushes him, consuming him.  

Despite his age, Vermithor's grief quickly turns to anger, a surge of energy and adrenaline fueling him as he flies after Morghon.   Biting down on Morghon's tail, ripping it off before returning for more. Morghon doesn’t have time to react before he is falling from the sky.   The dragon spins in the air, the wind loud enough to burst Visenya's eardrums as her screams rip through her.  Her grip is tight on the saddle as she clamps her eyes shut.   Visenya had thought that she would have the same fate as her namesake.  Dying when she grows old, with Aemond on Dragonstone after they watched their children grow old and have their own children.  But now it seems that she would have the same fate as Rhaenys.  

Cannibal lets the rest of Silverwings mangled corpse fall to Blackwater Bay before setting his sights on Vermithor, intent on giving the dragon the same fate.  

– –   

As the carnage and death seep through the Red Keep, it becomes unbearable for the Green Queen Helaena.  She had sentenced her eldest son to death; she bears the responsibility for that.  The grief is ever consuming, yet she knows that the worse has yet to come.  

The dreams, no nightmares, have shown her what will come.  The death of her brother, sister, her dragon, and more.  The end of her house and family.  

The inviting song of the wind flowing past her, a song for her to take one more step and stop the pain. 

The Green Queen takes that step.  Allowing her body to cascade to the ground.  If only the crowned queen had waited a second more for the Blackwood knight to crash through her door.  

Taglist: 

@tempt-ress @kassies-take​

[harrylovesteas]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ xoxo , little bird

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ MASTERLIST

summery : no secret in the seven kingdoms is safe. if anything is more certain it is the fact that there are eyes and ears everywhere. despite the fact that the elite do their best to keep their affairs, scandals and darkest secrets hidden; one blog threatens to expose them all. now that you and your best friend helaena finished your courses and have your bachelors degree, the two of you are determined to have the best summer of your lives in king’s landing. however, how you plan on hiding from all the little birds , you do not know. all you’re certain about is that you’re officially over your head.

pairing : modern aemond targaryen x (implied tully) reader .

dividers : @saradika

filter credit : ellie

rating : explicit ; the severity will depend on the chapter. however , i recommend that no minors interact or read. this story will include gore, violence, mature language, sexual content, drug and alcohol use. i will do my best to tag the chapters appropriately. however, if i miss something please let me know .ᐟ

disclaimer: © harrylovesteas : all canon characters are from house of the dragon , fire and blood , and a song of ice and fire. i do not own the canon characters of this franchise. proper credit goes to george r.r. martin. please do not republish my works on any website. the idea of this story will have some hints of the hit television show gossip girl , but besides the base premise of the website targeting the elite, there shouldn’t be much of an overlap.

tumblr : harrylovesteas

ao3 : harrylovesteas

wattpad : harrylovesteas

prologue : the end of the chapter

chapter one : pending

[clairifys]

You are mine, and I am yours.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Targ!Reader

w.c: 3.0k

18+ minors dni!!

c.w: violence, blood, death, 18+ content, nsfw, tent sex, fingering, making out, kissing, p in v, descriptive words, not-canon (sorry!)

ok guys i finally finished.. lmk if y’all like it!

There had been whispers from the Riverlands. You sat in on your mother’s council as you listened to the lords brabble around you. It wasn’t until Maester Gerardys spoke up that everyone went silent.

“Your Grace, a raven from Raventree came in, unfortunate news.” He spoke slowly, “Samwell Blackwood, Lord of House Blackwood was slain. His heir, Benjicot Blackwood now sits where he once sat.” Maester Gerardys concluded.

“Unfortunate news indeed..” Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra spoke saddened by the fatality.

“..Along with that news, the Riverland houses have expressed concern.” Maester Gerardys added.

“And what concern is that?” Your mother spoke cautiously.

“News that Aemond Targaryen’s dragon, Vhagar has been flying above them on multiple accounts.” He concurred, upon hearing this, you speak up.

“Mother..” You began, “Allow me to go out on Vermithor and keep our troops protected from the sky.” You suggested slowly, your mother looking at you with uncertainty and love in her eyes.

“My daughter, my only daughter,” your mother began before being cut off by Princess Rhaenys.

“Rhaenyra. We are at war, only few of us have dragons and Vermithor would be the best chance against Vhagar.” She affirmed strongly, “Vermithor has been with (Y/n) since she was a babe. She’s been riding much longer than Aemond.” Rhaenys left no room for objection and your mother looked at you with determination and melancholy.

“Alright.” She spoke firmly. “You will go on Vermithor before break of day.” Rhaenyra stood up and softly grabbed your arm to lead you with her to her room.

“My love, be careful and stay concealed until you reach the Riverlands.” She spoke lovingly as she took off the necklace your father, Daemon, gave her when she was a teenager. She fastens it around your neck before speaking, “Take this with you, to remember and to hold when you feel lonely.” She finished as a tear rolled down her cheek. She gives you a kiss on the forehead and holds you in her arms.

Benjicot had received no letter of affirmation from Queen Rhaenyra and only hoped she’d seen it and considered sending a dragon. The Northerners had arrived the previous day with Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. 

“Oye, Benji get your arse back in and train with me.” Kemit Tully taunted with a smile. He had been training with two of the boys he grew up with, Kermit and Oscar Tully.

“Yeah, yeah keep up with your taunting when I have my dagger at your throat and my foot on your chest.” Benjicot spoke up, a glint of madness in his eyes, the same as when he was on the field.

Benjicot Blackwood was a strange man. Soft and sensitive in any other occasion, even crying after his first battle once he saw all the casualties, but there was a reason he was named ‘Bloody Ben’ when he began his fights.

Kermit and Benjicot were about to start sparring when they noticed Oscar was silent, looking up in fear.

“Oscar..?” Benjicot spoke softly, unsure.

“Dragon.” He mumbled before shouting, “Dragon!”

As the men around them turned to look up, ready to be set aflame by Vhagar, they noticed the bronze color and tan wings. Still weary, the men around them took shelter under the trees as Benjicot, Oscar and Kermit stood planted in their spot, marveling at the sight of the beautiful beast.

You commanded Vermithor to land when you had seen the men cower under the blanket of trees. Flying downwards, your pearly ivory hair whipping behind you as it stayed in the same braided style, lest you need to engage in combat. Guiding your dragon to landing, you slowly climb down off of him as you pull your riding gloves off with your teeth. Your black and red dress blowing behind you as the men who ran to the trees slowly come out. Before you can speak, a man of considerable size, donned in Northern armor approaches and bows before kissing your hand. Cregan Stark you come to realize as he begins to speak.

“Princess (Y/n). It is good to finally meet. I met with your brother, Jacaerys a moon ago. I thank you for coming.” He finishes politely. You feel your face flush at the open show of adoration, it’s never not embarrassing for you, but you give him a soft smile, albeit awkwardly before he leads you to the tent where all the lords were meeting.

Benjicot had already made his way to the tent when Lord Stark greeted you, he was too nervous to go up to you, due to your lineage and beauty. When you made your way in the tent and situated yourself, you spoke confidently.

“I have been sent by Her Grace to ensure the safety of our men who have selflessly put their lives on the line for my mother’s cause. Whilst I am here, I assure you, if Vhagar is to begin attacking, there will be a dragon in the sky for you, to protect you.” You stated confidently, hoping none of the men could notice your nerves. You hadn’t ever been the highest of royalty as your mother was always there. Now though, you needed to keep your promise to your mother to ensure her birthright, even if it caused you to perish to achieve it.

“So..” Oscar started as he and Kermit looked at Benjicot when he met up with them after the short-lived meeting. 

“What?” He asked softly.

“What was she like? It’s not everyday a Princess as beautiful as her flies down from the sky to protect an army.” Oscar pleaded for information.

“Gods, she’s..” Benjicot trailed off as he looked at you from the training ground to see you lovingly caress and speak to your dragon in a language he didn’t understand.

“..we should be glad they sent someone as fierce as they did, she promised that if Vhagar were to return attacking, she’d meet him in the sky.” He finished softly, still watching you.

“Alright you two, let’s stop talking about her before she has her dragon eat us and start training.” Kermit insisted, secretly in awe.

Benjicot and Kermit were up first, not being able to begin their fight due to the Princess’s arrival. The only sound around them was the clashing of steel and the thumping of their hearts, which in turn, distracted the Princess from what she had been doing prior.

You walk over to where you see two men fighting, you notice them as Lord Benjicot Blackwood and Lord Kermit Tully battling it out. Benjicot gains the upper hand eventually as you watch in a trance of the crazed man’s ability and soon, Lord Tully is on the ground with a dagger to his throat. Ser Oscar Tully, you come to believe, begins cheering as Benjicot puts his hand out to the Tully on the ground. His back to you, you begin a gentle clap which sends all three men’s spine straight up. They all turn to you as you focus your gaze on Lord Blackwood while he maintains eye contact before nervously fiddling with his fingers and averting his gaze.

“Princess,” Lord Blackwood speaks up, meeting your eyes again with a slight flush on his face. You wonder if it’s because of the sparring, or maybe because of you. Normally you’d get weirded out when men expressed any sort of adoration towards you, but this time it was different.

“I can see where the name ‘Bloody Ben’ comes from, Lord Blackwood.” You state gracefully. You notice the two Tully’s giving him a look and smirking. His face flushes red as he responds,

“Thank you, Princess, but please call me Benji.. or Ben.. or whatever you wish.” He stumbles on his words and you find it endearing, you hear his friends laugh and you chuckle softly.

“Alright, Benji.” You speak as his face flushes an impossible red, “I’m glad to have you on our side, your swordsmanship is unlike any I’ve seen.” You state clearly before taking your leave to your tent.

.. 

“‘Please call me Benji, or Ben, or whatever you want, My Princess, please take advantage of me!’” Kermit taunts him as Benjicot swings around and begins to wrestle with the Tully boy.

You hadn’t lied when you told Benjicot that you’d never seen skills such as his. It was true, you think as you lie awake in your tent. You feel your face heat up as you think about the timid, yet brutal man. He fought without grace, he fought like a real warrior. None of that pansy dancing you’d seen around you growing up in King’s Landing.

You awake in the midst of the night to the sound of your dragon's calls. Something was wrong. Vermithor only ever made noises such as that when there was a threat evident. You rush outside, regretting not getting a cloak as it’s freezing in the dead of night wearing only a nightgown. You notice some of the men stepping out of their tents, sleep ridden eyes soon turning to determined anxiety. Benjicot steps out of his tent and you rush past him, almost knocking into him.

“Princess?” He questions before hearing the roar of a dragon overhead. Vhagar. You rush past him, grasping his arm gently and run up to Vermithor, who is undoubtedly concerned, climbing up him quickly, you command him to fly.

Before you can situate yourself, you hear Aemond.

“Dracarys”

Suddenly, the trees are ablaze and men on the ground begin to shoot arrows at Vhagar in hopes to weaken him. Commanding Vermithor forward behind Vhagar, you ready yourself.

“Dracarys!” You scream as Vermithor lets out a wall of fire onto Vhagar, Aemond, noticing, turns Vhagar around to attack. You quickly fly up in hopes of Aemond following, you turn your head to see him behind you, gaining on you.

As a last resort you make a hard right and when Vermithor flies close enough past him, you jump. 

Landing on Vhagar’s tail, you begin to try and climb when Vhagar whips his tail around to shake you off. Your dragon, Vermithor, begins to shriek in despair that his rider had ‘fallen’ off. Vermithor, being a war dragon, circles behind Vhagar, before coming to the front of him and sinks his teeth into Vhagars neck. In the midst of this, you had climbed up his tail and when your dragon attacked, so did you.

Vhagar descends down, thick, gallons of fiery blood spewing from his neck as you and Aemond clamber about, trying to plunge your daggers into each other. Noting that Vhagar was descending into The Fork, you grasp onto Aemond and jump. You hear your dragon scream and screech in agony of losing his rider.

In your struggle as you and Aemond begin to fall to your descent, you plunge your dagger into his one good eye, and you let go of him.

You knew dying was a common occurrence, and you had been ready to die for your mother’s cause, but you hadn’t known it’d be so soon. You prepare yourself for the plunge into the deep, cold water of The Fork, and you hope your mother is proud of you for going down with a fight as you close your eyes.

You feel yourself fall as you try to slow your breathing, but before you can feel the hard slap of the cool water, you feel the hard slap of your stomach hitting a dragon saddle. Wrenching your eyes open, your head whips around as you grab onto scales to prevent yourself from falling. Vermithor. He had seen you falling. He came and he saved you from the terrible fate you were about to be bestowed upon. Vermithor flies up and begins to spit fire, unable to hide his joy at saving his rider as your eyes well up with tears that threaten to spill. After calming him down, you fly over where Vhagar and Aemond met their demise. You see Vhagar’s huge body float slowly over the river, but Aemond begins to sink down.

When you land back on the ground, cheering erupts from all around you. Everyone comes up to you and gives you their appreciation, some of the older Lords even ask for a betrothal between you and their sons from your stunt. Once the crowd dies down, and eventually disperses, you fail to see the one person who hadn’t come up to you yet. Benji. You walk around for a little in hopes to see him, but eventually you retire to your secluded tent farther from the rest of the men as they begin drinking at a fire.

Hoping to see him in the morrow, you enter your tent smoothing down your disgruntled nightgown before looking up. Your big, purple eyes meet his stormy brown ones and you make a noise of surprise. The two of you stare at each other, taking each other in for the first time. You notice his eyes hold that crazed look, but something else glosses over them. Love? Lust? You couldn’t tell. Your eyes meet with his before he quickly looks down at your lips. He takes a step forward and you meet him in the middle.

The kiss was sweet, a gentle, sensitive thing. Your hands tangle in his hair as one of his hands cradles your neck, the other coming down to squeeze your waist. You gasp in surprise and when he hears it, he smiles against your lips before gently meeting your tongue with his. Your thoughts are clouded with the thought of him, so much so, you completely forget your near death experience. Breaking apart for air, he leans his forehead against yours and whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours.” 

He leads you down to your futon in the tent and lays you down gently before pressing a loving kiss on your lips. Your mind is dazed with desire as your body begins to react to the growing bulge in his trousers. You rut up into him, not in control of your body, blinded by the feeling of his body being so close to yours. He laughs softly before asking, “Are you sure? If you want me to stop, just tell me.” Beginning to get irritated at the lack of attention to your body, you grab him by his hair and your lips meet in a searing kiss. He pulls your nightgown down your body with a featherlight touch, leaving you in only your shift. The cool air makes you shiver as you grab his tunic and shove it off of him. Your lips meet again, your mind going dumb. He pulls his trousers off, leaving him in only his breeches before taking your shift off in one motion. Laying bare in front of him, he feels his breeches tighten as he takes you in. 

You begin to feel nervous as his full attention is on only you, and you’ve never laid with someone before. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He groans out, looking at you as if you’ve hung every star in the sky. You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter before he pulls his breeches down and leans down on his forearms on top of you. Your lips meet again for the umpteenth time and he begins to slowly rub his fingers through your slit, catching your slick. You moan out in pleasure, bucking your hips up when he pushes two of his fingers inside and groans. He pumps them in and out of you before adding a third finger, and you begin to feel a pressure building in your abdomen. You moan out in desperation when you feel his fingers leave you and you crack open your eyes that had been sealed shut. 

“Well, aren’t you needy?” He purrs before taking his slick covered fingers and shoving them in his mouth. You moan at the sight and let your head fall against your pillow. Suddenly, you feel him hovering over you and something prodding at your entrance. Slowly guiding it in, you both moan out in ecstasy. The stretch is insane, if you hadn’t been so aroused, you’d say it hurt. Once it’s fully sheathed in, you wriggle around, drunk off the pleasure of it all. Benji lets you adjust to his size before slowly rocking into you.

“Benji.. Please” You moan out in pleasure. His eyes darken, as if he had just won a battle and he begins to slam into you. You mewl out sounds as he grunts and groans. Your abdomen begins to tighten and your legs begin to uncontrollably shake. His thrusts get messier, before the white, hot pleasure rips through you. You hear Benji groan on top of you before his thrusts get deeper and faster, overstimulating you. He grabs onto one of your breasts, softly massaging it while his lips connect with your other peak. Your womb is suddenly coated, and you feel the beautiful feeling of being stuffed full.

Benji collapses on top of you, his head on your bare chest as you pull the blanket up over you two. You run a hand through his sweaty hair and he looks up at you with love in his eyes.

“Please, please, come home with me when this war is over. Let me love you for the rest of our days.” He practically begs and you make no objection. Kissing him softly as one of your hands holds his head and the other rests on the necklace your mother gave you.

hope you guys liked it!!