#aemond targaryen x velaryon!femreader

[damn-stark]

Chapter 4 Snow on the beach

Chapter 4 of Moonlight

A/N- last full Cregan chapter, now onto Aemond, let’s see if he can beat Lord Stark

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF!, Talks of blood and death, suggestive nfsw, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- Before 1x08

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*127 AC*

“…we’re hoping for a girl, so if the gods are generous you will have that sister you always wanted, wouldn’t that be great?

Daemon also hopes for the babe to be a girl. He said maybe you could choose a name, would you like that? I think it’s a marvelous idea, please write your ideas.”

A girl? Your mother is hoping for a girl again?

Maybe it’s because you’re far away from her and you haven't seen her in four years, but the idea of her having another daughter besides you makes you feel bitter with jealousy.

Is that cruel to feel?

“Anyway, I’m glad you have made friends with Lady Arra, I hate the thought of you being alone so far away. Tell me is she kind? It’s okay to admit if she’s rude and a bitch—”

You snicker softly at your mother's words regardless of your previous feelings.

“—it’ll stay between us. But if you don’t feel comfortable telling your mother then tell your cousins or your brothers. They won’t tell, trust me, Jacaerys never wants to show me what you write to each other now, but, it makes me glad that you share a bond regardless of distance. I know he misses you as I do, my Sweet.

I love you so much.

Love always, your mother, Rhaenyra.”

You put the letter down on the desk and simply smile softly. You don’t cry anymore when you read her letters.

The first two years that's all you could do, cry as you read what your mother, grandmother, brothers, and even what your cousins wrote. You just longed to be by their side again, you missed them terribly. But when your rendezvous with Cregan changed to secret forbidden romantic nights, you stopped crying at night and when you read the letters from home.

Now albeit you feel like starting crying again. Is it stupid to feel jealous about her having another daughter? Is it foolish to feel like you’ll be replaced?

You’re so far away, and you’ll always be far away because of your marriage to Aemond, so having another daughter will cure that longing to have you with her. Having another daughter also means she’ll replace you because it’s a daughter shared with the man she’s in love with, not someone she married out of political gain, not someone who had different preferences. She’ll be the apple of your mother's eye, of their eye—

No! No, it’s stupid, you’re being stupid. Your mother loves you, she’ll never do such a terrible thing.

Albeit…before, when she was with Ser Harwin hoping for another girl you didn't fill you with jealousy then because at least you had your father; he wasn’t always available, but he was there, he loved you too. He’s gone now though, so if she does replace you you’ll have no one.

——

*4 FEW YEARS BACK*

“All right, now…” he trails off and glances around the ship, you follow his line of gaze to see what he’d point to, but he then turns around and points at something else completely. “…that. What do we call that and what’s its use?”

You squint your eyes on the large spar that extends forward from the ship's vessel prow and think back to what he and Ser Qarl have taught you whilst on your way to Dragonstone.

Out of all the things you’ve learned, it takes time to come up with the answer right away, but it then comes to mind. “It’s the bowsprit!” You clap with excitement. “And it prevents the ship from…uh, being submerged in water when the waters are rough!”

“Yes!” Your father exclaims. “Yes! Good job.”

You skip forward and then speak to Ser Qarl. “I’ve thought of a scenario, all right, Ser Qarl.”

Said man leans his arm against a barrel and scoffs in amusement before he softly throws his chin up to gesture you to share what he asked of you a while ago. Something you thought of with a lot of precaution.

“I’m on deck, and then whoa, I get attacked,” you tell him as you clasp your hands back and walk towards the quarter-deck. “Pirates are coming on the ship, my crew is getting hurt, so then I run forward, use my blade to cut the main yard, and swing across the deck to save them, and myself.” You finish proudly and spin around to face both men with a smile. “Huh? Is that good?”

Ser Qarl and your father share a glance and break into a chuckle, making your smile falter. They think it’s stupid, don’t they?

You knew it! It’s too dramatic and childish.

“That’s…” your father clears his throat and walks over to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “That’s a great plan, darling, well thought out.”

You look up at him with uncertainty and probe. “Really?”

He shoots you a grin and nods. “Yes, really.”

“You’ll make a fine sailor,” Ser Qarl compliments. “Probably one better than your father.”

You're quick to please so once again you can’t help but bring back your smile to your features.

“Yes,” your father agrees. “You will. You’ll make a legendary sailor.”

——

*NOW*

“See! That’s how you do it!” Cregan exclaims and flashes a smile as he admires how the arrow impales exactly at the center of the makeshift target. “Let’s see you best that.”

What if he wants to replace you, Prince Daemon?

He has daughters, but those are his own, what if for some reason he just wants to replace you?

Cregan calls your name, but you don't answer or look his way. Instead, you stay lost in your mind and think that it’s unbelievable that your mother would want to replace you. She loves you, all of you, in fact, she was often advised that she not be so affectionate towards any of you, especially towards your brothers, so she wouldn’t just replace you.

No?

Cregan calls for you again and this time touches your shoulder, snapping you from your messy thoughts raveld in your brain.

“Yes?” You query and meet his curious grey eyes.

Cregan blinks and then points at the target with his eyes. “It’s your turn darling,” he says and quickly looks back at you to study you.

Albeit before he catches anything, you pick up your bow and an arrow to then go stand where Cregan was. You exhale softly to try and forget what you were thinking of while you shift your feet and lift your arms. You get the arrow in position and get ready to shoot it, but hands then fall on your arms, making your breath catch and your gaze drift to the corner of your eyes to look at Cregan behind you.

“Relax your bow arm,” he advises softly as he holds your gaze the entire time.

You can’t help but smile and stare at his lips.

“You did hear me?” He asks.

You relax your bow arm like he said and nod.

“Just making sure. You’re not looking at me in the eyes,” he teases.

You laugh softly and slowly meet his gaze with a playful smirk. He snickers and then steals a quick peck from your lips before he stands back.

You flash him a giddy grin before you look back at the makeshift target and draw out a soft exhale again before letting the arrow fly.

Albeit the arrow whizzes past the target clung onto a thin tree.

“I see,” Cregan stifles his laugh and crosses his arms over his chest. “That was terrible.”

You sigh and lower your arm to stand back without meeting his gaze—your mind is just too lost.

“Your teacher must not be so good, you missed the target. You’re usually good,” he continues to tease.

You drop your arms and huff. “The tree is too thin,” you throw out the first complaint that comes to mind.

“The target isn’t the problem,” Cregan points out honestly. “When we go hunting the prey is moving. At battle, the target is moving as well. This. this is easy.”

“I won’t use a bow and arrow,” you remark and briefly meet his gaze. “I’ll have a sword in battle, and Astraea.”

Since you glance up as if you could see Astraea overhead you miss the way Cregan watches you and sees right through your troubled mind right away.

“The target isn’t the problem,” he repeats and leans his equipment against the tree behind him to approach you. “What’s wrong? What troubles you?” He asks softly and takes the stuff from your hands to put it by his.

You know you’ll sound like a total whiner, a spoiled brat most likely. He’s more humble than most of the people at Kings Landing, so he probably won’t agree, but all these thoughts are overflowing your mind and they’re beginning to drown you, you can’t hold back anymore. Besides he is your best friend, and your…paramour? Partner?

No that sounds too official, you aren’t. Paramour sounds right—he’s your secret paramour. He should know what troubles you.

“It’s,” you begin to share and sigh deeply. “It’s my mother. She’s with child again.”

He hums and just like you predicted he responds nicely which contradicts your frown and gleaming eyes. “That’s great news, I’m happy for you….” He trails off as he notices your reaction and backtracks. “Is it not great news?”

You mindlessly grab the pendant your grandmother had given you and mutter. “They’re hoping for a girl, again. Aegon came out as a boy so they’re hoping for a girl this time…to replace me.”

Cregan sighs and shakes his head as he looks at you as if you’re mad. “What? Darling, why would you think that?”

Tears fall out of your eyes as you’re overwhelmed with sorrow you can’t surpass. “Because,” your voice quivers. You can’t even look at Cregan in the eyes or else you’ll just feel a worse anguish in your heart. “Unlike Aegon and this new baby, they’ll have soon, I wasn’t made out of love. My parents had a duty to commit, not Prince Daemon and my mother. They love each other, their kids are made out of love. She wants to replace me with a daughter she wasn’t forced to have. A different daughter that…” you trail off and shake your head whilst you wipe the tears that manage to break out. “…that’s not like me.”

Cregan sighs softly and closes the gap between the two of you with an embrace. “Oh my darling girl,” he says as he begins to caress your back. “That’s the most maddest thing I’ve heard.”

Now that you’re in his embrace, as his comforting smell filters into your nose you can no longer hold back your tears, you cry softly as you hug him.

“I may not know your mother, but from what you’ve told me, it seems she loves you,” he assures you. “She’d never replace you. Never. Who would replace a woman like you?” He asks and pulls back to cup your cheeks. “It’s like if you had a daughter already, wouldn't you want another if the gods were generous enough?”

Well, when he puts it that way.

“I suppose I would,” you whisper.

Cregan offers you a faint smile and nods. “See? You just miss your mother, that’s all. Besides you’re her eldest, you’re special to her, you always will be no matter who comes along.” He assures you while he wipes your tears away before he leans in and presses a gentle kiss on your lips and on your forehead.

“You’ll always be my favorite girl regardless.” he finishes saying to lift your spirits.

And you can't help it, you slowly begin to smile before you steal a lingering kiss that he takes over and deepens. When you pull back you lean your forehead against his and wipe his lips with your thumb.

“Thank you, Cregan,” you whisper with your heart beginning to race as words just run up your throat. “I don’t know how I’d survive being so far away without you.”

The corner of his lips tug to a soft smile. “I’m the one that should be thankful,” he whispers against your lips. “The gods put you in my life and saved me from this loneliness I was bestowed with.”

Your entire face burns and you can’t help but flash him a blissful beaming grin before slamming your lips against his. Right away Cregan slides his hands to the sides of your head and begins to push you back against the tree, whilst your hands travel to the back of his neck, and your nails dig into his skin.

Driven by passion Cregan then begins to slide his hands down, letting them linger on your breasts before he tears open the top part of your dress, making you gasp. Yet your disbelief is short-lived because you then give in and unbuckle his shirt.

Albeit, soon thereafter he forces himself away and lets his head hang low as if suddenly troubled. You try to ease his stress by grabbing his face and reaching for more but he stops you. “Who would I be if I made you mine?” He mumbles between pants. “I can’t.”

Your smile softens as you're quick to reassure him. “You won’t dishonor yourself or me because I love you.”

Cregan holds your gaze in disbelief but can’t help his smile from spreading on his face. “We said we wouldn't fall in love.” He reminds you of your ultimatum.

You sigh. “I couldn’t resist myself, not when you’re the very breath in my lungs. Without you, I can’t breathe.”

It might be foolish to say, no it is stupid since you won’t marry, but it’s a truth you can’t hide. Not from him, not when he’s driven you too madly in love. And especially not when he grins so tenderly for you.

“If that’s so then I can finally relieve myself of this weight I’ve been carrying for too long and say that I love you too,” he confesses with a sense of relief as if he had been forced to hold it all back.

And you knew it’s a bad idea, you told yourself you wouldn’t give in to such passionate temptations, but you’re a woman pushed away from the mother who could teach her the reality, you remember her loving passionately and freely and you can’t help but live by those terms and smile at the man before you before you feed your forbidden passion by stealing a kiss.

“Give me the privilege of giving me your maidenhead then,” he whispers against your lips and steals the very breath from your lungs—“give me the privilege of being mine. Only mine.”

You meet his gaze and never think about Aemond, he doesn’t cross your mind when you’re with Cregan. He should be the very thing that stops you, but he's left you alone, so neither you nor Cregan think of the consequences of what could happen, you’re too driven by lust, passion, and by love.

“As long as you are mine,” you whisper impatiently as you pull his shirt off.

Cregan smirks and nods. “From this day until the end of my days,” he whispers happily against your lips as he holds your gaze and nothing else.

——

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

“You know when I was a little girl I used to be scared of the North,” you tell Cregan while you admire a flame dancing on a candle on your end table.

“Why’s that?” He asks with some amusement playing in his tone.

You snicker and peer back at him with a smirk. “The servants' children said that giant spiders roamed the snowy lands and that northern men were big, brutish, and stole women from the homes of their husbands.”

Cregan pulls his hand away from your bare hip and you can practically hear those dark eyebrows furrow while those pink pouted lips only crease to a frown.

When you churn your head you’re proven right when you see him looking at you with a pointed look. “They say that?” He presses as if those people had personally offended him.

Your smirks turns to a teasing smile and you nod. “A lot of people like to make up reality when they don’t know it.”

Cregan grumbles and turns to lie on his back and look at the canopy overhead. You ache for more of his gentle but rough fingers so you turn and tangle your legs with his while you place your hand on his chest.

“Did you ever imagine you’d love a brutish man?” Cregan asks and almost sounds deeply serious.

You snicker and tease him. “Do I? Or did this man take me from my quarters and make me his?”

Cregan blinks and turns his head down with a smile he can’t help but flash at you. “Maybe it’s you who has cast a spell on me. I heard that the Valyrians were blood sorcerers.”

You giggle and sigh longingly. “I wish I could do such a thing, but the practice is forbidden and lost in your family, unfortunately. My natural beauty is the only thing that took you under a spell.”

Cregan blesses your ears with a hearty chuckle before he flips swiftly and captures you under him. You bite your cheeks to not yelp out of excitement and alert a servant or a guard.

“That is indeed true,” he flatters you and leans down to capture your lips in his. “You have a bewitching beauty.”

You grin and hook your arms around his neck to keep him close. “Oh, I like that.” You coo. “It makes me sound frightening.”

He hums and averts his gaze before interjecting. “No not bewitching then. Enchanting.”

Your smile softens and you can’t help but look at him softly as if he had just made you fall in love with his words alone.

“Tell me,” he continues to fill the comforting silence. “What else did you think of when you were young? More fake stories about northern men?”

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “Well,” you part your lips and sigh deeply as you think back to several years worth of thoughts, casting a long silence.

Cregan doesn’t mind the silence though, he liked to watch you in the silence like an admirer watches art they find fascinating; he never could get enough of the beauty before him. He even liked to admire you while you parted your lips.

“Without getting too depressing—”

Yet you don’t get to finish because the door handle suddenly clicks before the door bursts open, leaving you no time to attempt to hide, only leaving a second for Cregan to flip himself off you.

Nevertheless, the intruder happens to be Arra, Cregan’s wife, and your closest friend.

It turns out that Arra didn’t turn out to be the concern you worried she’d be, unexpectedly she turned out to be a good friend even if you do love her husband. Sure it took time to become friends mostly because you pushed away the possibility out of your fear that she hated you, but she doesn’t.

It also turns out that her preferences are different, she enjoys the company of women, mainly that of her handmaiden. She just put on an act that day Cregan became Lord to fool the masses. Which is a relief, you probably wouldn't be able to handle the guilt if she actually loved him.

“Arra,” Cregan hisses and pulls the furs over you to cover up your bare chest.

“Forgive me,” she mutters as she quickly closes the door behind her before she waltzs in and throws herself next to you on the bed. “I grew bored listening to all the maester had to tell me so I pretended I needed to talk to my husband.”

One would think you would be appalled that she’s lying next to Cregan and you with nothing on but the furs keeping you warm, but, well in your time together, as you’ve grown closer it’s just something you do and don’t question. For one, Arra says she finds no romantic interest in Cregan, and he’s her husband under the old gods, secondly, she jokes that she’s basically married to you too because of how much Cregan loves you, so it’s just like partners being in bed with one another; arra says.

As for Cregan and you, well, you’ve grown accustomed to it, and to keep up appearances you’ve chosen to find a taste for it.

“It’s one of the dreading days isn’t it?” You query Arra knowingly. “That’s why I pretend Astraea needs tending to. They don’t bother me when I say I’m with her.”

Arra rolls her eyes and Cregan frowns at the canopy—“I really detest that I have to suffer through the Maesters dreadful lectures without you. You’re my ward, you're meant to suffer with me.”

You snicker. “I suffered through enough of them with the previous Lady, and I will have to suffer through worse lectures in Kings Landing, I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”

Arra snaps her head to you, and you meet her gaze and you both break into laughter.

“You know we were in a conversation,” Cregan cuts in quite annoyed that your precious moments were so rudely interrupted.

You don’t mind Arra barging and find it as an excuse to see Cregan later so you drag her in your conversation. “He asked me what I would think about when I was young.”

Arra hums curiously and fixes herself to get comfortable, much to Cregan’s protest.

“Well,” you finally share your long-awaited response. “When my head wasn't literally in the clouds or fantasizing about my desires, I would often think about my future. Who I would marry, where I would go, what would happen to me, and who I wanted to be.”

A silence lingers where both Arra and Cregan think about what you said and why someone young would have to think about something so serious so early on. They both grew curious about who it is you wanted to be before a future was chosen for you, but Cregan beats Arra to the question.

“Who is that you wanted to be?”

You sigh dreamily and rest your head on his shoulder first before you tell the tale you were forced to leave behind along with your childhood. “Besides wanting to be a sailor, or an explorer, or a singer, I wanted to be Queen, a kind one like great, great grandmother Queen Alyssane, and my ancestor Queen Rhaenys.”

“Queen?” Arra probes between a joke and a serious demeanor.

You nod softly. “I was the eldest, I thought it was my right, but well…” you trail off and leave it untouched because they know why your dreams weren’t granted. Albeit you do defend yourself. “Not that I resent my brother, I never have, I kept dreaming after that dream was crushed.” You smile softly and that assures Cregan that he can poke at you now.

“What is it you wanted after that? To be a pirate? Isn’t that something you asked to be?”

You laugh and nod against his chest, letting him wrap his arm around your head to press you against him. “Yes well, besides that I dreamt of things I could never be, things I no longer crave because…my feet around on the ground now, and because when I think about tomorrow I see the people I love beside me.”

Another silence follows and this time it’s not so tense, it’s comforting and full of sweet bliss. Arra breaks it and what she shares doesn’t bring tension. “I was in crisis when I was young because I learned I fancied women, and then I hated the fact that I would have to marry a man.”

“I wanted to meet a giant that I thought lived far north,” Cregan shares and right away Arra and you share a knowing look because compared to Arra and you, that was such a sweet and weightless response. He doesn’t seem to understand what his response meant though, so when Arra and you start laughing he’s just left puzzled.

“What is it? I’m being serious, aren’t you?”

——

*128 AC*

Screams fill the room while the sour metallic smell of blood begins to filter the room.

“Come on my Lady push! The babe is almost out!” The midwife instructs Arra.

Albeit Arra throws her head back and shakes her head. “I can’t,” she cries out shakily. “I can’t! It hurts! Please don’t make me go on, please,” she begs with streams of tears mixing with the thick beads of sweat that bathe her face.

“Arra,” you mumble and lean over to grab her jaw and tilt her head to the side so she can meet your gaze. “Arra, I know it hurts, I know, but you have to keep going for your babe. If you don’t then they’ll die,” you share the harsh truth so she can get inspired. “The pain is almost over. I promise.”

Seeing and hearing her in pain is something you don’t want to witness, you know the possibility of her outcome and it frightens you; not for selfish reasons, but rather because she’s your friend, your best friend and you know how cruel childbirth can be and she doesn’t deserve to suffer.

You want to be back to when it was just Cregan, you, and her, simple and serene times. Days when you’d sit under the old weirwood tree with her, and her lady paramour, Genevieve, and sing a sweet song to the babe still growing in her belly.

“Something,” she stammers as she holds your gaze. “Something feels wrong.”

You look up to meet the gaze of her handmaiden and lover and mirror a concerned look before you look at the abnormal amount of blood that is pooling around her.

“We won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Genevieve assures her even if you’re both starting to know the cruel truth.

“Promise,” she continues to say in a way that doesn’t involve the others but doesn’t give away that her words are coming solely from her own aching heart.

“Push, my Lady, push!” They instruct again, and she listens, she puts as much effort as she can into delivering the babe that Cregan and her managed to make. However, she loses too much blood as the babe struggles to come out of her.

Arra doesn't even get to meet her son, she took her last breath as he cried for the first time, and your own heart wept at the realization.

But how does that compare to when you tell Cregan?

He didn’t love her, it’s true, but he did care for her. She was his best friend since childhood, a close confidant, and his wife. He’ll be so heartbroken and you dread seeing more of his sorrow, he was already so distressed when she began to bleed more than normal. He had to leave the room at that moment—Which in turn becomes an issue though because now no one can find him.

Albeit, you know where he is. It’s obvious too. It’s the only place he can think of going to at such a desperate moment. The Godswood.

“Cregan,” you call out as you see him sitting on a tree trunk by the red-leafed Heart tree.

Said man looks up with gleaming eyes. You don't hesitate to approach him and crouch down in front of him. “It’s a boy,” you share with a faint smile but with melancholy, he doesn't miss but ignores, Cregan actually smiles at the ground and murmurs.

“Rickon.”

You take his hands in yours and lose your smile as the dread of sharing the news begins to choke you, threatening you not to speak. Albeit he looks up at you and sees right through you again; he sees the tears stains on your cheeks, and the new tears that begin to form, and he knows he can no longer ignore the truth.

“No,” he mutters and shakes his head. “No, it cannot be true.”

You sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Cregan drops his head to hide his sorrow from you. After all these years he still hides his anguish, but now he doesn’t put on a brave face and then hides away in his chambers, now he lets you see his vulnerability. He lets you comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat and begin to caress his back. “I’m sorry.”

Cregan drops his head on your shoulder, letting you slide your hands around his neck so you can gently caress him and accompany him in his grief. You wish you could stay like that for a while longer, but you can't be caught being so affectionate so when the others found him you could go on pretending.

You learned to get better at pretending. In the first year of your secret relationship, you were almost caught doing things friends shouldn't do too many times, luckily it didn’t happen and a scandal didn’t spread…all because of Arra, she offered her aide then, she taught you how to be very discreet. Well, you were sneaky before, but you would get caught before, and because of her you didn’t and won’t. She helped you a lot and now she's gone with nothing left to her but her bones, and baby Rickon.

However, how can a child stop your departure? You had made the excuse when the five years were up that you wanted to wait for Arra to give birth, and the Queen granted it, but now?

Now Arra’s gone and the babe is here, meaning you will leave soon. You’ll leave Cregan...

That's what hurts too, knowing that with Arra’s death, your time here has also come to an end. You’ll have to leave and face…Aemond.

Seven hells.

You exhale deeply and fall on your bed now that you are in your semi-sheer white nightgown. All the walls that surround you that you once thought dull and bland, and the ceiling above you that you hated looking at when you first got here will soon change for you. This freedom you have here will soon change to a never-ending pester. And the people are somewhat nice, they're certainly a lot nicer now than they were the first year, they’re not racist anymore, but soon you’ll be surrounded by creeps like…Aegon.

Albeit creeps like him exist even here at Winterfell so that won’t change that much—The silence at night though, that will change and you’ll miss it too…

“Damn,” you grumble. “Maybe they should catch us together. It’ll be a bit of a scandal, but what of it?” You groan and sit up to push yourself off the end of your bed and walk to your balcony.

Perhaps the coldness is the one thing you won’t miss, but the silence? The tranquility? Cregan? You will miss him the most…

You sigh deeply again and fold your arms over the railing to rest your chin on your hands as you admire the empty street below. You let the silence linger for a moment before you begin to laugh quietly to yourself.

Once upon a time when you lived in Kings Landing, you’d look down at the streets below just past your window, and you'd see the calamity of everyday life and wish to be amongst it, now you’ve found peace here and wish to stay here in this castle amongst the tranquility. Have you grown, or have you forced yourself to make peace with your life?

You don’t know, so you sigh again and turn your head to the side, in that moment catching the rare blue winter rose in the corner of your railing.

A smile spreads on your lips and you rush over to pick it up, finding a small scroll around the stem. When you open it you see a small sentence; “meet me in my quarters.”

That’s bold of him, but you don’t argue, you’ve found ways to sneak to him. You use the same methods now with no hesitation and find yourself in his quarters, but find him looking out his own balcony. When you make sure no one is approaching you break your silence.

“Cregan?” You call out carefully, finding his still behavior odd.

Said man turns and you quickly add on. “Are you all right?”

The corner of his lips twitch to a slight smile. “Rickon is the most precious thing ever.” He begins to walk to you, and you don’t fail to head towards him as well—“You have to meet him.”

You smile. “I have. Albeit our meeting was cut short. He looks like you though.”

“You think?” He asks softly.

You nod as you meet right in the middle of his room. He takes no time to be sweet and grab your hands to wrap them with his warm ones.

“Baby Rickon makes me think of…our own children.” He makes your heart skip a beat before it begins to race. His words are absurd, you can’t be man and wife, but hearing him say those words makes it seem like a possibility.

“Hair white as snow, kind eyes like yours,” he says and cups your cheek. “Mighty children born of ice and fire.”

You can’t help but let your smile widen, and lose your mind in the impossible for a moment. You come down from that dream and face a truth he doesn’t want to see. However, instead of breaking his delusions, you let him dream because of his grief.

“How are you doing Cregan?” You ask and avoid the topic. “Be honest.”

Said man averts his gaze and lets your hands fall before he then wanders to the side of his bed to take a seat. “I,” he interjects but pauses and drops his head.

Now that racing heart you felt slows down and sinks as you see the anguish he was trying not to show. You approach him and sink down beside him on his bed.

“I feel as if I could have done more,” he reveals and looks up to meet your gaze, letting you see the tears that gleam over his eyes. “I know I didn’t love her as I possibly should have, but she was still my friend, and she died and I couldn’t stop it.”

You shake your head and press your hand on the side of his neck to caress him gently. “It wasn’t your fault,” you comfort him. “You did not do this. What happened to Arra unfortunately is normal. There was no preventing it. It was simply the Gods will. I’m sorry.”

Cregan swallows thickly and drifts his gaze away again, letting you press his head against your chest to be able to embrace him and keep him close to your heart.

“Now what you can do to honor her memory is be Rickon’s father,” you add quietly. “He’ll need you, Cregan.”

Cregan pulls away and faces you with tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t know how to be a father.”

“Who is?” You counter softly. “We don’t spend our lives training to be parents. You’ll struggle, everyone does, but you’ll know one step at a time as life moves on. Be the father yours was to you,” you try to assure him as you cup his jaw.

Cregan holds your gaze for a lingering minute, his lips part and his gaze softens. He doesn’t say anything for a moment that seems to go on for eternity, but then, just as you were growing insecure about what you said, he smiles before he steals a kiss from you.

“See,” he breaks his silence and grabs your cheeks. “This is why I love you. This is why you’d make a great Lady of Winterfell. Your kindness can melt the coldness that surrounds this land.”

You scoff softly and drop your eyes whilst you push his hands away and stand up off the bed. He lays down and watches you pace away.

“I’d also make a good Lady because I am stubborn, a good ruler needs that,” you play along, making him chuckle. However, you end your amusement fast and grow serious.

“But you truly can’t say that,” you mutter and grab the pillar of his bed to spin around and begin to walk to the other side. “You can’t say those things to me.” You remind him sharply.

“If I put a babe in your belly they’ll send you back to me,” he suddenly blurts, causing you to stop just as you reach the other side of the bed to stare at him in disbelief.

“You’ll have no choice but to be my wife and Lady,” he adds the fire, but regardless of the heat that basks your face you pretend to be bothered and grab a pillow off his bed to throw at him. Albeit Cregan catches it and snickers.

“My darling love,” he adds and then flips on his bed to crawl towards you. “Is that not your wish? Your greatest desire? I can put one in you now. Have you back with me in 60 days. ”

“Cregan,” you mumble and sigh with sadness knowing it’s not something that can happen. “You’d know what would happen if you did. Aemond would come after you, my family would too.”

Cregan sits up on his knees before he grabs your hand and suddenly yanks you towards him on the bed, making you yelp as you grab onto his shoulders.

“What?” He counters. “You don't think I can fight him?” He snickers and cups your face. “I’d do it. I’d fight every fucking man in this world if it meant making you my wife.”

It’s these words that only add to your ache about leaving, that only makes you swoon that much more for a man you can’t have.

“I have to—”

“Quiet,” he interrupts you and covers your mouth, making you let out a muffled scoff and twist your face to demonstrate your discontent. “Don’t say it,” he says, knowing that you were going to tell him you had to leave. “Just lay with me tonight.” He pulls his hand away from your mouth and pulls you down with him so you can lie right next to him on his bed.

You debate on dwelling on the matter, but if these are your last moments, then you want to appreciate them, so you don’t bring up your fate and just let him gently stroke your exposed back with his fingers. You snuggle against his warm chest and embrace him, you don’t think about anything but him in the comforting silence that blankets the two of you.

It’s stupid of you, but you love him.

——

*A COUPLE DAYS LATER*

Tonight is the last night you’ll ever spend together. Tonight is the last night you’ll see his beautiful face basked by the moon's soft light, tonight is the last night you’ll touch his lips, laugh, and hear his sweet voice pour in your ear like honey. Tonight is the last night you’ll be embraced by his warmth, it’s the last time you’ll have his smell filter in your nose, it’s the last time you'll hear him laugh, and see his smile painted on his features.

Tonight is the last night you can be lovers before you have to act as mere strangers passing through the night. And he’s making the most of it, acting as if nothing is going to happen. You try to act as clueless as him, but the thoughts keep coming back.

“Cregan,” you call out as he keeps walking deeper in the woods. “It’s far enough, and It’s cold, perhaps we should go to your quarters.”

Cregan peers back briefly and flashes you an assuring smile. “Not much further, just catch up.” He waves you over, forcing you to pick up your pace in the fresh snow that blankets the ground tonight. However, you come to a quick stop at the same time Cregan does when a wolf's howl breaks out from very close by; or at least that’s what it seems, maybe it’s your sudden fear that makes you hear it.

“Cregan,” you whisper sharply and approach quickly to clutch onto his arm. “Let’s go back to our usual spot, come on. These aren’t our grounds.” You look out to the depths of the woods to see if you’d find a pair of glowing eyes.

“These are my grounds,” Cregan corrects you and reaches for your hand. “Come let’s get closer.” He tugs you further, but you instantly yank him back.

“Are you mad?” You argue in panic and slight judgment. “There can be a pack of wolves out there.”

Cregan scoffs and grabs both of your hands to pull you towards him and counter. “And you have a dragon, don’t be frightened.”

“Astraea wouldn’t bite our faces off and shred us apart with her teeth,” you counter back louder. “The wolves will, and Astraea can only get here so fast.”

Cregan shoots you a smirk, just a simple smirk before he lets your hands fall to run ahead without you.

“Cregan?!” You shout as you stay put and watch as he reaches the top of the small hill before you lose his figure past some trees. “Cregan, don’t leave me alone!”

Seven hells!

Fucking man…

You squint your gaze and take a step forward, but don’t catch a glimpse of him. You just hear the sound of a wolf howling again, causing your heart to skip a beat before it starts to race as your fear heightens. “Cregan!” You call out for him again. “Don’t jest with me!”

You take another cautious step forward and stick your neck out, but still nothing.

Alas then, from the deafening silence, there’s a scream that comes from Cregan up ahead.

The wolf got him!

Rather than being hesitant, you pick up your dress's skirt and run where you saw him disappear to even if there’s a wolf close by.

“Cregan?!” You cry out desperately and proceed to come to a stop when you don’t see him or a wolf. “Cregan?!” You grab onto the tree and turn your head from side to side, however, it’s at that exact moment that hands slap against your shoulders and a quiet “boo,” is whispered in your ear, causing you to yelp and spin around hastily.

And there in the shadows is Cregan, his gray eyes reflecting his joy, while his smile shines just as bright as the stars and the moon before his evil laugh fills the silence.

“Why would you do that?!” You remark with anger before you try to shove him back. However, he catches your wrists in time.

Yet Cregan’s feet aren’t planted against the ground well, and the force you put behind your hit is strong, so he loses balance and falls backward, taking you along with him since he refuses to let go. When he hits the ground you scramble to get up, but the hill you fall on is steep, so you accidentally tumble and take him with you down the snow-covered hill.

He of course laughs the entire way down, but you find no amusement in what happened considering he had you worried sick.

“You are cruel,” you grumble the moment you stop rolling and fall on him. “You are a cruel man.”

You try to move to the side, but he grabs your hands and tugs you back down against him.

“It was only a jest, my love,” he coos and grabs your face. “I just wanted to see something.”

You shoot him a glare and shake your head. “What? How bad I can get a heart attack? I thought you got hurt.”

“And you came running, I’m honored,” he counters with a smirk before he pulls you in for a kiss. Albeit you pull away and smack his chest.

“It wasn’t funny, I was worried,” you mumble with a pout and turn your head away.

Cregan finds this more amusing so he lifts his head and tries to steal kisses from you, but you keep pushing him away and turning your head. When he finally has enough of you turning away he presses his hand against your back to flip you over with ease so he can be on top of you.

“Don’t be angry with me,” he whispers. “It’s funny, laugh.”

You hold his gaze and feign a laugh, causing him to roll his eyes.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” You ask and lift your arms to grab his biceps. “Maybe that will change my mood?”

Cregan smiles softly and caresses your cheek. “I’m more than content staying right here, I love the view.” He tries to prolong this moment with sweet words that work to make you swoon.

“Well,” you whisper reluctantly. “My view isn’t terrible either…but my ass is getting wet.”

Cregan feigns concern. “Really? Let me see.”

“Pft,” you blow out and slide your hands down his arms to grab his hands.

“Come then,” he stops messing around and keeps your hand warm under his grasp as he pulls you with him. “Let me show you the world.”

No matter the impending doom, your grin widens and that fear vanishes completely, leaving only curiosity and glee where sorrow should be. Once you arrive at where he wanted to go you immediately know you should’ve known better because this place isn’t new, you’ve been on the hill that overlooks Winterfell before. Many times actually it’s his favorite spot after all.

Regardless, the castle from higher ground is truly a beautiful sight with all the glimmering torch lights, and the moonlight dancing on the snow around the ancient grounds.

“Sit,” he demands as he extends his cloak over the ground. “This way you won’t have to get your pretty ass wet.”

You meet his gaze and snicker as you sit, letting him lie down in front of you so he can rest his head on your lap.

“I’ll miss Winterfell,” you mention as you look at the castle below while you stroke his arm. “In a month's time, it’s back to, “yes your Grace, no your Grace”. Locked towers. The insufferable Ser Criston Cole who thinks he’s high and mighty, and my fucking uncle Aegon.” You groan in frustration.

“I can go beat him bloody,” Cregan offers.

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I can handle him. Maybe show him a thing or two as well,” you say smugly, making Cregan smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he says.

You smile down at him and lean down to steal a kiss from his pink lips, but he doesn't fail to ruin the moment.

“If that place is such torture, then stay,” he doesn’t suggest, or persuade you, he’s demanding now.

“All your things are already here. I only need to ask your mother for your hand.”

Your smile drops, and you avert your gaze, not wanting to entertain this further. You want this to be a good last night.

“I may not be ecstatic to return to King's Landing, but I have to go see my grandfather the King, he’s clinging onto life,” you find an excuse that doesn’t involve Aemond just yet. “I miss my family. I want to see my mother soon after I arrive. As well as my brothers, my cousins, all my family who I miss terribly.” You don’t excuse yourself this time, it’s all coming from your heart's desire. You've been apart for so long and can’t really fathom another year without seeing them.

You only wish you could see your father Laenor too.

“You’ll see them at your wedding to your prince,” Cregan grumbles. “Speak the truth, you want to return to him.”

You swallow back the lump forming in your throat and then look down at him with your face contorted in slight annoyance and shock. “No,” you argue back right away to assure him. “No, Aemond…he’s a stranger to me now. We’re betrothed, he was my best friend, but he stopped sending ravens, he stopped caring. He means nothing more than a stranger does.”

Cregan sits up and turns to face you. “Then stay,” he insists. “If he truly is a stranger then stay with me. Marry me. Don’t leave me in agony.”

You sigh deeply and shake your head with a pitiful look on your face. “You know I can’t do that, it’s not that simple,” you argue for his sake and yours.

Cregan however, clenches his jaw and huffs out before adding to his argument. “I told you I’d fight him. I’ll fight everyone that comes in my way.”

You can’t let his words affect you now, no matter how fast it makes your heart race, or how hot your face burns as you grow flustered.

“We’ve kissed, we’ve laid together, you are mine,” he presses passionately. “I’ll kill him to prove it.”

“No,” you quickly rebuttal, causing him to stiffen and furrow his eyebrows as he starts to believe the opposite of what you try to tell him.

“He has the oldest dragon,” you press so he can listen to reason, while you grab Cregan's arms to keep him close. “He’d kill you first. And if he does then…” you trail off and scoff. “Then what will become of me without you?”

Cregan pushes your hands away and stands up with a scowl twisted on his face. “I don’t care because I hate the idea of him touching you, of him kissing you the way I kiss you. I fill with rage knowing he’ll be inside you.”

Your body begins to burn with desire at his words, at the sound of his jealousy, but you don’t let him tempt you, you just stand up and let him grab your cheeks.

“I don’t want him to see you smile, or-or feel your comfort,” Cregan continues to recite beautiful words. “He hurt you already,” he whispers and traces the scar on your face that Aemond accidentally left you with. “I just want you to be mine.”

You shiver at his gentle touch, you crave for more, but you still push him away. “If that’s so then…” you pause and let out a shaky sigh as your eyes fill with tears and that lump of emotions returns to crawl up your throat. “…I wish we had never become friends. I wish we had never met, or loved each other the way we do—”

“Don’t say that,” he cuts you off and approaches you, but you step back.

“I don’t want to be the bane of your existence Cregan,” you finish saying with tears rolling down your cheeks. “I told you before, that night we revealed ourselves to one another for the first time. And you,” you point. “You were okay with it. You knew what was going to happen. You know I’m stubborn, you knew nothing was going to change my fate.” You stifle your whimper and drop your head.

“Look at me,” he says sternly, making you lift your gaze to meet his gray eyes that brew like the angriest storm.

“I’d rather die tomorrow than spend a century without knowing you,” he says, making your breath catch. “You will never be the bane of my existence. Never. Forgive me.”

He approaches you and you let him this time. “But I just don’t understand why you want to marry the prince. Do you not love me?”

You nod and cup his jaw to assure him. “I love you. I just…” you hesitate. “I'm just afraid of losing you. If you win a fight for my hand, Aemond won't stop there, and I can’t even breathe with the thought of living my life without you. Sure we’ll be far from one another, but I’ll be content knowing your heart is beating, and that we are living under the same sky,” you whisper and lower one hand to press it against his chest to feel his heartbeat. “That we share the same sun, that we look at the same moon and stars.”

You offer him a sad smile and he admires it while he swallows thickly, and lingers there stiffly for a moment before he suddenly pulls you in for a deep and passionate kiss that is cut too short.

“So be it then,” he gives in as he pulls away. “I’ll let you go without a fight. I’ll ache for you every day, I’ll love you from afar and want nothing but happiness for you, my sweet love,” he tries to assure you in the way you want to be assured even if the words he says are like bile in his mouth. He presses his forehead against yours and begins to caress your face while he smiles softly at you. “If I hear that he hurt you I’ll march down there and kill him.”

You chuckle and feel tears stream down your cheeks. “Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll write to you every week. Don’t forget me.”

Cregan shakes his head and scoffs. “Don’t speak madness woman, I’d never forget you. I’ll write back every week. And if you don’t get married 6 months from now I will go to your mother personally and ask for your hand.”

You beam at him and nod, knowing that you’ll be married by then. “All right. Okay. I like the sound of that.”

Cregan pulls his head back to take in the sight of your face he thinks is so enchantingly beautiful for a lingering moment before he slams his lips on yours to kiss you again with more passion before he can’t ever again.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

No matter how much you keep telling yourself it was going to happen, nothing could actually prepare you for leaving Cregan and Winterfell. You couldn't even sleep a wink or eat knowing that your life was going to change again.

All your friends, Cregan, and every aspect of this life as you know it is going to become nothing but good memories. Which is very hilarious considering you dreaded coming five years ago; now you don’t want to part from it. Or him.

“Farewell, my friend,” you tell Rolf who is now a Knight, and now stands a foot over you; he was small when you first met.

“Farewell, Princess, may our paths cross again,” he redirects sweetly with a friendly smile.

You draw in a small shaky breath and nod before you step forward and surprise him with an embrace. “If you ever find yourself at King’s Landing come find me, just say you want to talk to me.” You tell him softly.

Rolf tightens his arms around you and assures you. “Of course, Princess.”

You linger in the embrace for a moment longer hoping to drag on this interaction because once you part away the last person to say goodbye to is Cregan.

But no matter how much you fight it, the inevitable is already upon you. There was no avoiding it.

“Farewell, Lord Stark,” you say softly as if you were no more than friends, you don’t even hide your tears even if they’re really for the lover you’re leaving behind and can’t kiss one last time, or tell him how much you love him.

“Thank you for letting me stay, for making Winterfell my home.”

Cregan clenches his fist to resist himself from comforting you, from kissing you, and forcing you to stay. He holds himself back even if it pains him.

“Farewell,” he puts in a simple word with that stern voice he uses when he’s amongst his people. “…Sweet Princess.”

He steps forward as he holds your gaze and reaches his hand out to ask for yours. You know what he wants and don’t hesitate to give him your gloveless hand.

When your warm flesh touches his, he carefully embraces your hand with his and then pulls it towards his lips to press a friendly kiss on your knuckles.

You shiver at the feeling of his wet lips but continue to hold his gaze as if nothing. You let your hand linger in his and push yourself to add more to your final farewell. “Write, I’ll be far but it doesn’t mean we still can’t maintain our friendship.” You smile and slowly pull your hand away to clasp it in front of you again.

“I will,” he assures you and then looks away for the first time since he’s walked you to your carriage to look back at one of the servants and give him a nod.

“I have something for you,” Cregan adds and meets your gaze again, piquing your curiosity. “A farewell present from me and Rickon.”

You slowly begin to grin and look at the servant who falls beside him and hands him a small wooden crate.

“I know how much you love these feline creatures so I want you to take one home,” he continues while motioning you closer with his eyes. When you’re a few inches away you look into the crate and see a small but chunky balled-up dark gray kitten.

“Oh,” you muse and open the crate to carefully take it out. “Hello, my beautiful friend.”

“It’s a piece of Winterfell to take with you,” Cregan interjects as he admires you comforting the kitten.

“Don’t worry, Astraea won’t eat you,” you assure the kitten. “You’ll be friends, won’t you, Wolf?” You give the gray kitten a name that reminds you of Cregan’s gray eyes. You then blink and look over at Cregan with a beaming grin. “Thank you, Lord Stark. I love the gift. I shall love it, cherish it, and always keep it safe.” You exhale deeply and let your handmaidens take the crate as you step back towards your carriage that will take you to the harbor.

“Farwell once again,” you keep longing the interaction as much as you can.

“Farewell, Princess,” Cregan says one more time using your birth name and your old family name while he also clenches his hands into fists again.

You hope he’ll keep interjecting with more but this time he doesn’t ask for your hand, he doesn’t hand you another present, this time it’s time to leave, thus, after one last lingering look you turn and walk to the carriage with tears forming in your eyes. Once you reach the steps, however, Cregan is there beside you, you meet his dark gray eyes for one last time and give him your hand again to let him cup it and help you up the two steps.

Before you can walk inside and close the door in front of him though, you linger there, you hold his comforting gaze even as Astraea lets out a soft cry in the distance. Neither of you want to pull away, but you have to, you have to leave, so you pull away first and walk in. You let the coach close the door before Cregan and minimize your view of his beautiful face.

The coach doesn’t take long to depart from that spot it was stationed at after that, he doesn’t know about your aching hearts, he doesn’t know to slow down so you could look at Cregan’s gray eyes and his pale face through the little gaps designed on the window for longer than a glimpse. The coach races out, making Cregan’s figure disappear before your very eyes, and letting you see snow, endless blankets of snow.

You want to cry badly, but you can’t, you don’t want to give anything away, so you hold onto your kitten, Wolf, and let Astraea express your hidden sadness with her melancholy song as she follows the carriage.

Now onto the stranger who was once your best friend, but who is still your betrothed, Aemond.

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Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans

[damn-stark]

Finally can post the new cover thanks to the new still of Cregan!

[damn-stark]

When you’re so jealous of the love your wife has for her family that you trauma dump her just to gain her sympathy

Spoilers for the next chapter of moonlight

[damn-stark]

ITS UP!!!

Chapter 7 Aerion

Chapter 7 of Moonlight

Chapter 7 Aerion

A/N- What side will y/n end up siding on?

Warning- Swearing, angst, FLUFF, talks of blood & death and of SA, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- half of 1x08

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*129 AC*

“Cousin, I write to you to warn you of Uncle Vaemond, who at this moment sails for King’s Landing with the plan to appeal to his Grace the King on matters of succession, rights, and the sanctity of blood. He wishes for the Driftwood Throne to pass to him, he said that it is his by rights and that he is the only unattainted choice.

Don’t concern yourself though. I've warned my father and your mother. They should argue against his foolishness and set matters straight. Until then, our grandmother and I will see you shortly.

Your cousin, Baela."

Tsk, of course, your Uncle Vaemond is protesting, he doesn’t even have the decency to wait for more news on your grandfather Corlys’s recent injuries after his fall in the step stones. Not even because that’s his own blood.

Then again that’s not as significant as the matter of who will actually stand judgment to Ser Vaemond’s stupid petition, the Hightowers. With their hatred for your mother and family, they’ll try and turn their favor with Ser Vaemond. Or discredit your mother in some way. You know it.

“What does your cousin say?” Aemond pulls you from the depths of your running thoughts, causing you to drop your hand that holds the scroll and sigh while you look down at the little baby boy squirming in your arms as he watches Wolf rubbing against your legs.

“Oh, just that Ser Vaemond is on his way to appeal for his right to the Driftwood Throne,” you share, drifting all of Aemond’s attention from the book he was reading to you caressing the tiny silver-white curls on your baby's head before you press a gentle kiss on his head.

“It seems that your grandmother will come to us instead, Aerion,” you direct at your baby as if he cares or truly grasps what you mean. “Are you so excited to meet her and your uncles?”

Aerion looks away from the grey cat, and his father's blue eyes stare into your very soul as if trying to read what you mean before he shows off his gums with a wide smile and then follows by flinging himself against you.

“Oh,” you laugh softly and can’t help but smile through your concern. “You are so excited to meet her, aren't you? I’m excited to see her too.”

You press another kiss on your baby’s head before you turn and watch Aemond standing from his chair in front of the dancing flames to make his way to you.

“Perhaps you should back your own claim,” he suggests seriously. “You are Ser Laenor’s daughter, and the first grandchild to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.”

You watch him stop and crouch down before Aerion and you first and then laugh dryly at his very serious suggestion. “Do you want me to be laughed at by my uncle and the entire court?” You scoff and shake your head while you grab a buckle on his coat to fiddle with it as you reiterate an argument you've already had multiple times. “I won’t even try.”

Aerion smiles at his father and leans his little body forward to try and grab his father's attention.

Aemond notices and musters a tiny smile before he takes him from your arms.

“I’m afraid my Velaryon family isn’t as accommodating as our Targaryen family was. They’d rather see that wooden throne sink into the depths of the ocean before letting a woman sit on it. My grandmother only sits on it because my grandfather is alive.” You add.

Aemond glances down at Aerion as the baby begins to put Aemond’s hair in his mouth. “What of Aerion?” Aemond suggests and meets your gaze as he gently pulls his hair out of the child’s mouth. “He is our son, your son, he has Velaryon blood.”

You shoot Aemond a pointed look before you make him follow your figure with his eye as you walk past him to approach the couch and swipe a chewing toy off the surface. “No, Aerion is 4 months old I won’t use him to steal my brother's birthright.” You clarify without fear whilst you return to Aemond to give the baby his toy so he can chew on that instead.

“What is this about?” You press him to investigate this need for more. “Are you so eager for power that you’d use your infant son as a piece in this never-ending game? I'm sorry I don’t come with a throne, and Aerion doesn’t inherit fleets and an Island, Aemond—”

“It’s not like that,” Aemond cuts you off and snatches your hand from your side as you try to walk away. “I’m fighting for you. For our son!” He argues with a softness in his voice, but also a hint of fury that you take as him being protective.

“I fight for the benefit of the both of you,” he continues in a softer tone while he brings your hand close to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles before he continues to give you comfort by cupping your cheek.

“If there’s a chance for something greater for the both of you I will take it. What man would I be if I don't try?”

Well, when he puts it that way…it’s sweet. But he’s still annoying for suggesting you take what belongs to your brother.

“I appreciate it,” you tell Aemond as you use your other hand to grab his shoulder before slowly sliding it up to hold his jaw. “I admire your will, but I’m okay. We're okay. I’m content with what I have; our beautiful son, Astraea, and I have you. I don’t desire anything else.”

You offer him a smile and lean in closer. “Besides, we will rule Dragonstone. It would be difficult ruling Driftmark as well.” You giggle. “We are enough. I mean we are basically gods.” You smirk, and he starts to mirror your gesture.

“I’m okay,” you reaffirm and steal a kiss from his lips. “Now let’s talk about other matters.” You drift the conversation away and glance at Aerion, busy chewing his toy.

“What did the maester say?” Aemond actually listens to you, making you bring your gaze back to him—“Are you?” He asks.

You sigh deeply and shake your head. “No,” you mutter with disappointment. “I’m just late. I started bleeding this morning…I was so sure though.”

Aemond slides his hand to the back of your head and presses you against him to press a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s all right. We have Aerion. We are in no rush. Don’t strain yourself, my love.”

You clutch onto his chest and lift your head. “You’re not upset?” You query seriously with a worry that comes from the bottom of your heart and instantly conflicts Aemond.

Considering neither of you are the heir of anything all that valuable the pressure to have children is not one he feels or one he presses on you, so he doesn’t understand this concern that pains you and brings tears to your pretty eyes.

“Of course not.” He argues softly. “Why should I be? I don’t want you just to have children. I want you for what you are, I always have.”

You sigh with relief and slowly smile at him in awe before you smack your lips against his and pull him in for a steamy kiss that is cut short because of the child he’s holding and is really attentive of him and you.

When you do pull back he does keep you close to murmur against your lips though. “Come with me and Aerion somewhere.”

Your curiosity doesn’t fail to pique or gleam brightly in your eyes. “Where?” You ask giddly.

Aemond pulls back and gives your curiosity satisfaction while also fueling it even more. “We’re going for a flight. Aerion’s first flight.”

Without as much as hesitating you secure your hand around Aemond’s and follow him outside, Afterall, you don’t fear for your child’s life whilst on a dragon, the only reason you haven’t flown with him before is because you did want to wait until he was older, but you know that neither Vhagar nor Astraea would ever let anything bad happen to Aerion. The one thing you do worry about is if Aerion will like the feeling of the wind brushing against his face. He won’t know he’s flying several feet above ground, but he might feel a discomfort when the dragon takes flight, so you do hope he enjoys this venture. He might fly on his own dragon when he’s older after all.

“He might even fall asleep,” you try to stay positive while you secure Aerion on his chest after you make it out to where the dragons are. When you finish you grab Aerion’s chin and smile.

“There, all snuggled up.” You assure your baby. “Your father will take good care of you.” You step back to try to head to Astraea, but Aemond stops you.

“Don’t. Ride with me.”

Your eyebrows slowly furrow and you glance at Vhagar. “Are you sure?” You probe. “I can ride Astraea and follow beside you.”

Aemond shakes his head. “No, I'm sure, Aerion will want you there. I want you with me.”

Your heart flutters and your smile widens. “Okay,” you give in and skip forward to rush back to his side. And since he’s carrying special cargo, and Vhagar is his dragon, you let him climb first before you follow, which proves to be difficult to do, Vhagar is huge compared to Astraea. You can’t help but be out of breath when you’re on the saddle.

“I still don’t understand how you do that,” you comment breathlessly and look down at the ground, feeling your heart skip a beat out of fear of the height since you won’t be the one strapped in. “I’m grateful Astraea is still small—maybe you should have tried to bond to Vermithor.”

Aemond picks up the ropes he has as handles and peers back with a smirk. “You remember?” He asks.

You wrap your hands around his neck and nod. “I do. Which by the way I was right,” you show off. “Size doesn’t equal speed. I have won against you every single time.”

“Because I let you,” Aemond counters smugly.

You roll your eyes and scoff. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Vhagar then begins to walk ahead, creating thunderous footsteps that echo like an angry thunderstorm. You glance at Aerion to see if he’s bothered by the new noise, but he doesn’t react.

“Perhaps Vermithor will be Aerion’s dragon,” Aemond points out smugly since Aerion’s dragon egg has failed to hatch.

“Or Seasmoke,” you add and smile to yourself as Vhagar flaps her wings and ascends to a sky that never fails to remind you of your father. “…My father's dragon.”

As Vhagar flies higher in the sky you tighten your hold around Aemond, but not out of worry, you embrace him and lay your head on his shoulder as you feel a rush of bliss. You watch the thick white clouds start to surround you and feel the sun's warm rays bask your face, filling you with comforting warmth. Aemond’s body blocks out the chilly breeze for you, but as you fly through fields of clouds you feel the cold water droplets dampen your exposed skin.

Not so long ago you felt restless. You longed so badly to be with your mother, or to return to Winterfell and Cregan—you still wish to see him, to hear his voice, you miss him even if you shouldn’t, and those forbidden letters aren’t enough to fill your appetite for more, but…you are truly happy now with Aerion and Aemond.

What was once a place that made you feel out of place, now is a home because of the two men in your life. If things could be like this forever, you’d be okay with it. You don’t want more. Not anymore.

“Maybe we can fly forever,” you mumble in Aemond’s ear. “Get lost in the sky.”

Aemond hums. “I'm sure Aerion won’t mind.” He says back sweetly.

You lean your chin over his shoulder and can’t help but fill with joy at the sight of Aerion grinning and reaching out for the clouds he can’t actually grab.

“<He has dragon's blood,” You say in High Valyrian. “This is his destiny.>”

“<You’ll get one soon enough, my little dragon,” Aemond assures Aerion. “You’ll get the fiercest, just like I did.>”

Yes, you’re more content with this life that you have now.

——

*LATER*

Six years, it’s been six years since you’ve seen your family. Yes, you haven’t stopped communicating with them throughout the time you have been in Winterfell and Kings Landing, but it’s not the same. No amount of letters fills the void created the day you were forced to leave your family behind.

Yet finally after six years, you’re reuniting with them again as a grown woman of 18. You’re not that little girl anymore. No, that girl died when your father did….

Hopefully, you can make them proud of the woman you’ve become.

“Grandmother,” you call out breathlessly the moment you see her heading to the stairs that lead to the chambers.

Your grandmother stops in her tracks and slowly turns to face the person who had called out to her, finding you past the doors with a wobbly smile on your lips.

And no amount of time apart could make her forget you, she instantly recognizes you, and your name softly comes out of her lips as if completely captured by your presence.

You beam at her and rush away from Aemond’s side to meet her halfway after she climbs down the first step. When you reach each other she first cups your jaw to study the new person before her.

“I saw Meleys when Aemond and I were flying back home,” you tell her as you admire her too, noticing that she hasn’t aged a bit. She looks just the same as she did when you last saw her—“I rushed here as fast as I could.”

“Look at you,” she whispers with a growing smile. “You’ve grown even more beautiful. Your father would be happy.” She lowers her gaze to your chest, and when you follow her line of gaze you see her looking at the pendant she had gifted you six years ago. “I’m so very happy to see you.”

“And I you,” you redirect softly, “I’ve missed you.” You sigh deeply and frown now. “How’s grandfather? I heard he was taken to Driftmark.”

Your grandmother meets your gaze and exhales softly. “He’s home, fighting to this moment. The maesters are helping but it’s up to him now.”

You swallow thickly and assure yourself with that piece of information for now. “I’ll pray for his recovery.” You try to offer her and yourself consolation before you hold each other's gazes for a lingering and then can’t hold back a moment longer and wrap each other in an endearing embrace.

“I missed you,” you whisper again, but this time in a quivering voice.

Your grandmother's embrace tightens, and her chin rests on your head for a moment before she speaks quietly. “And I you, my little Siren.”

You stay in each other's embrace for a lingering moment because for the both of you, a special comfort has been rekindled in your hearts; one your grandmother has been missing since your father died, and a comfort you have longed for since you were separated from your family.

You almost don’t want to let go but you both break away, and right away you’re hit with even more joy when you notice the young woman behind her, your own cousin Baela—She’s a woman now too, beautiful, and just as mischievous looking.

“Baela,” you greet happily before you rush to her and immediately wrap her in an embrace. “Letters are truly not enough,” you mumble, and neither of you can help but laugh out of the pure joy over seeing each other again before you pull back and grab a hold of each other's hands to stay close. “You're absolutely breathtaking.” You compliment her.

Baela offers you a soft smirk in return before she points at you with her chin. “As are you. Motherhood has treated you well.”

You snicker and remember the little person you want them to meet. “That reminds me,” you change the subject and let her go to turn and walk to Aemond to take Aerion from him.

“Grandmother, Baela,” you say and face them with your infant clutching onto you. “This is Aerion.” You glance at your baby boy and smile proudly. “I’m sorry if he might seem grumpy, we took a long flight and went past his nap time.”

Your grandmother approaches you and reaches out for Aerion’s hand, but the baby hides it and watches her as if he’s scared.

“It’s okay,” you assure Aerion. “It’s just your great-grandmother.” You huff softly and meet her gaze, catching a soft gleam in her eyes.

“He resembles your father when he was a babe,” your grandmother mentions quietly as she caresses the child’s cheek. “Except for his eyes, Aerion has his father's eyes.” She glances past your shoulder to steal a look at the tall man lurking in the shadows—“Congratulations, granddaughter,” your grandmother offers you wholeheartedly, but when it comes to Aemond her smile falters and that gleam disappears. “And to you, Prince Aemond, you have a beautiful son.”

You share a happy look with Aemond, and he simply offers her a stiff thankful nod, letting you move on back to your cousin. “I simply have a lot to catch you up on, Baela, why don’t I show you to my chambers while Aerion sleeps.”

Baela nods without hesitation, so you return to Aemond to hand him Aerion. “Can you take him to the handmaidens before you go to training?”

Aemond nods as he holds your gaze. “Of course. Will I see you for dinner?”

You nod and lean in to press a chaste kiss on his lips before you caress Aerion’s cheek, and then hurry back to Baela to hook your arm around hers and rush her to your chambers like a pair of excited adolescents. Once you’re in the safety of your quarters you don’t waste any time, you serve yourselves some wine and drape yourselves over your couch near the fire to talk about all that you haven’t written in your frequent letters to each other. Even Cregan comes up because she knows that you became friends, and she knows about the letters you send back and forth, but that’s all, she doesn’t know about the deeper connection you share.

No one knows, not Jacaerys, not your mother, not Rhaena, just Cregan and you.

It would be nice to tell her and Rhaena. it would feel nice not keeping the weight of that secret just to yourself. You want to gossip about him, share all the sweet things he’s done and said, and the fact he was like a hot fire in the midst of a cold storm, so warm, caring, and passionate, even if doesn’t look it, even if has a tough outer shell, and this piercing look that could kill, he was all those things and so much more. He was everything sweet and beautiful in this world to you, and cold and bitter winters felt kind because of him. He was everything you looked for in a lover.

You want to say that and so much more, but…where you are isn’t the place to share such matters, nor do you actually know that you can ever share that part of your life, you can’t risk the wrong person finding out. So as for now, you’re fine sharing that you’re friends who haven’t lost touch. Besides, it's relieving having Baela to talk to. Helaena is sweet, and you have your fun, she’s your closest friend now, but well there’s only so much you can actually talk to Helaena about. It’s different, so having Baela is like a breath of fresh air.

“Perhaps you should have married Lord Cregan instead,” Baela mentions after you summarize what he wrote to you this week. “He seems like the more…sane man.”

You snap your gaze to her and leave a long slightly tense silence that she picks up on and tries to figure out by looking at you to read you, but when she meets your gaze you begin to laugh.

“Aemond is good,” you tell her in your husband's defense. “He’s very kind to me. I mean Cregan is more rugged sure, but,” you snicker. “Aemond is passionate, he's sweet, he's like the stars and the moon.”

Baela snorts and probes teasingly. “And what does that mean? Bright and only sometimes there?”

You laugh softly and look away from her judgmental gaze to look at the ceiling as if you’re admiring a starry sky. “He’s beautiful, bright, yet timid like the moon and the stars on a cloudy night,” you muse and unknowingly describe Aemond’s love in the same manner you just thought about Cregan’s love. “He’s fiercely loyal like the moon because even if it’s daytime, or the night sky is covered in clouds, you know he’ll always be there. and even if he doesn’t look it, he's got so much love to give. He’s gentle, and forever mine.”

Baela stays quiet for a moment and doesn’t try to garner any kind of understanding, she scoffs in disgust and retorts. “Was he all those things when he slashed you across the face?”

You roll your eyes and further your defense for him. “He didn’t mean to cut me, it was an accident. But let’s not dwell in the past.” You exclaim and swing your legs off the couch to walk to the small table with a wine cup in one hand, and Cregan’s letter in the other.

“Let’s instead speak of the future, like you and my brother,” you tease her as you roll up Cregan’s letter you can't keep—you’ve kept only some, but you can’t keep them all. Not unless you want Aemond to find them—“will you still be matched?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” Baela shrugs. “Rhaena has said that your mother does plan to propose the idea, but until it’s confirmed I can’t be sure.”

You hum and finally let the candles fire eat away all the lovely words written on the paper. You watch as the fire takes more and more of it, quickly approaching your fingers and increasing its heat, but not burning your flesh.

“Well,” you sigh hopefully. “I hope it does end up happening. I mean we’d be good sisters, and you’d be my Queen in the distant future,” you giggle and peer over at her, catching her smile.

“I hope it happens too,” Baela admits, while you glance back at the letter and see that the flames are kissing the tip of your fingers now. It should hurt, but the heat doesn’t burn. You feel its warmth on your flesh, but that’s it. There’s no sharp pain, nothing that brings you agony…

How strange.

“…I could make you stay.”

Oh damn!

You throw what remains of the letter in the fireplace and very nonchalantly spin back to face her. “Oh,” you laugh and just guess what she was saying. “You’d make me huh? Well,” you scoff and place your cup down. “Who am I to refuse you? Future Queen Baela.”

Said girl giggles and sits up to face you with a narrowed gaze. “I’d order everyone—Bring me a flagon of your finest wine,” she mocks in an exaggerated regal voice.

You shoot her a playful look before you burst out laughing. “A flagon? That’s what you’d want?”

Baela shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything else.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you still have a lot more to go before you become Queen,” you tease her and feign concern before sipping your wine.

Baela quickly grabs a pillow and hurls at you, but luckily you caught her in time so you move and miss getting hit, but you still fall back on the couch as you both fall into a fit of laughter that makes the lighthearted mood linger in your chamber room the entire time she’s with you. Even after she leaves and Aemond joins you, that lighthearted feeling only heightens. It literally has you giddy all day and you know most of it is due to the fact that a part of your family is here and the other is coming.

All this time you’ve been surrounded by people who only serve to gawk and talk nonsense behind your back. Even if you aren’t a bastard they still look at you as if you are one because of who your brothers are. And those who don’t whisper about you, or pierce their glare hoping you’ll somehow implode, are all insufferable, like Aegon, Ser Criston, and the Alicent. You only have Helaena, Aemond, Aerion, and Astraea.

It’s why having your mother and brothers return to the Red Keep is so exciting, you’ll at last be surrounded by a family that loves you and doesn’t judge you. Sure the reasons why they’re coming are not as graceful, but you’re so happy and eager regardless.

Yet it’s that same excitement that doesn’t let you sleep, and poor Aemond feels it.

“If you sleep the night will pass by quicker,” he grumbles with his eyes closed. Stop moving, or I imagine you’ll end up sleeping alone the rest of the night.”

You can't help but smile before you flip around on your side to face him on his back and with his face turned away from you.

“My heart is racing too fast, I can’t keep my eyes closed,” you finally whisper after a long night of silence. “I’m too excited.”

Aemond sighs deeply since he knows that already and responds with silence, letting you imagine he’ll just keep ignoring you, but a few moments later he turns to face you with his eye heavy with sleep.

“Forgive me,” you coo at him and brush away a long strand of hair from his face. He hums contently and grabs your hand to keep it on his face.

“Were you this excited to see me?” His question surprises you but makes you eager to answer.

“I was more nervous,” you admit with a teasing smile. “I was just as restless, but I was feeling a scared nervousness. I didn’t know who I was coming back home to. I would hear people talk about Aegon and Helaena, but I never heard whispers of you in the North. You were a mystery. And as intrigued as I did feel, my fear was greater.”

Aemond says nothing but you know he comprehended all that you just said.

“I was also angry,” you remind him making him huff softly in comprehension. “And I was also worried that you would have met and loved another lady.”

Aemond scoffs and shakes his head. “There’s only been you, my love.”

You wish you could share the same sincerity with him, but your lust for Cregan completely won you over and he turned out to be your first everything.

“Well…there was someone,” Aemond catches you off guard and piques your curiosity. “But she wasn’t really someone,” he pauses and he averts his gaze. “When I turned thirteen, Aegon took me to the street of silk…”

You go rigid and that smile you carried falls, while the excitement washes away as your heart falls to your stomach.

“I didn’t know what he had set up for me until we got to a brothel and,” he takes another short and grows quieter when he finishes. “…He said because he's the older brother he needed to ensure I was educated as he was.”

He doesn’t need to finish the rest of his story to figure out what happened that night. You piece it together and grow angry that Aegon would dare and do that to his little brother the day he turned 13! He was just a boy.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you share the sympathy you also feel for Aemond. “You were a boy.”

Aemond finally meets your gaze and in his silence, you caress his cheek and lean closer to press your forehead against his.

“I’m really am sorry.”

You miss the way the corner of Aemond’s lips tug upward softly as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t your doing and it happened long ago.”

“Still, it happened, and you’ve had to live with that memory. It’s horrible,” you argue softly. “I mean I can’t fathom having someone traumatize Aerion like that. You didn’t deserve it. You were thirteen.”

Aemond answers with silence so you push yourself up to cradle his head and press him against your chest. He quickly finds comfort in your embrace and wraps his arm around your body to keep you close to him.

“I’m glad you told me,” you whisper as you brush your fingers through his hair. “I hate Aegon even more, but it makes me feel a lot closer to you.”

Aemond hums and his breath tickles your flesh as he whispers sweet words filled with genuine and deep affection but also backed with possessiveness and insecurity that you can't hear. “I love you.”

You smile sweetly and don’t hesitate to say it back with just as much tenderness in your voice as the one he just carried. “I love you too.”

——

*A FEW HOURS LATER*

You did end up sleeping for a bit after your heart-to-heart with Aemond, but the moment you woke up you began to wait and wait, imagining how the reunion would go, imagining how your mother would react to meeting Aerion for the first time.

After your break fast, go through gowns and gowns until you find your prettiest red-colored gown, and the most shiniest jewelry to impress your mother. You grow very impatient as each second passes to see her and your brothers; all five of them, that once the time approaches for their arrival you make sure to be out at the courtyard early just to greet them—Although you aren’t excited to see her partner. Maybe if you pretend he isn’t there he’ll disappear….

A girl can wish.

Regardless, when the gates begin to open and bannermen carrying the Targaryen house sigil rush in the courtyard your breath grows unsteady, but that doesn’t measure up to the way your chest aches with the building anticipation when a royal carriage rolls in and quickly comes to a halt.

You’ve dreamt of reuniting with your mother and brothers since the moment you left. All you’ve ever wanted was to be with them again, so you can’t help your racing heart, nor can you keep yourself from biting your cheek as you fiddle with your pendant, and smile brightly.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

You step down the stairs and watch the carriage door open, albeit you're welcomed with darkness so you slightly tilt your head and narrow your gaze until finally the sunlight hits her face when your mother comes out first.

There she is and she hasn’t aged a day it seems, she looks just as breathtaking as when you last saw her. Only now she carries a small swollen belly where your sixth sibling grows, besides that, she looks the same and still doesn't fail to make you feel a sense of relief and comfort, as if everything in this world was going to be okay.

She doesn't even have to meet your gaze for your whole body to relax, seeing her gaze wander the exterior is enough comfort. Thus, you let her take in what might be new to her and instead take this second to drift your gaze too and look at the people that walk out of the carriage, hoping to see your brothers next, but it’s just Prince Daemon—gross.

He looks a bit plumper, and he has more wrinkles than before, but age does that to a person and he is old now.

Nevertheless, a soothing and excited voice calls out your name, pulling your attention back to your mother, and noticing that she found you now.

“Mother,” you call out breathlessly and break away from your spot to meet her halfway with an embrace. “Oh,” you breathe out softly and nuzzle your face in the crook of her neck.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she coos as she caresses the back of your head. “How I've missed you.”

You draw in a deep shaky breath and find that she still smells like sweet berries and flowers.

“I’ve missed you too, so much.” You cry happily in her neck and hug her tighter, making her hold onto you tighter before she presses her face against your head to try and be as connected as you physically can before you ultimately have to pull away.

However, when you pull back you grab each other's hands to not let go yet and study each other from up close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she says again as she lifts her hand to caress your cheek with her soft thumb. “You're so beautiful…And so grown,” she pauses and shakes her head. “I've missed so much, you're a woman now.” She beams at you with a wobbly grin while a joyous gleam reflects in her eye.

You grin back. “And you are just as beautiful,” you redirect. “And don't worry, we're together again and we won't be separated for so long again,” you reassure her and then glance down to touch her belly. “How is she?”

Your mother giggles. “Healthy and growing every day.” She blinks and looks past you to search the area behind you. “Aerion?” She asks excitedly.

You pull your hand away from her belly and sigh. “Sleeping, besides you’re rushed now, I’ll take him to you later when you have time. I’m eager for you to meet him,” you let her know.

“Which reminds me,” she interjects and secures her hand around one of yours before she pulls you towards two small blond-silver-haired toddlers behind her. “Sweetling meet your brothers, Aegon,” she introduces as she caresses the chin of a boy with pin-straight hair wearing an all-black outfit.

“Hello,” you greet the toddler. “Aren't you the cutest little boy? I’m your sister.”

He looks like Daemon. They have the same eyes, however, your brother does have a sweet charm that Daemon doesn't, especially when Aegon smiles briefly before hiding his face in the handmaiden's shoulder because he makes you laugh.

“And this is Viserys,” your mother adds and points to a smaller toddler with the same hair color but wearing red and gold. Unlike Aegon, Viserys waves, and he looks like your mother.

“You’ll make a fine and charming knight, I see it already,” you tell the little boy before you step back to look at both toddlers. “You’ll make friends with Aerion soon,” you tell them.

Now that those introductions are done with nevertheless, you let your mother's hand go and turn to try and find your brothers, but luckily you’re immediately welcomed with the sight of two tall young men with dark hair already staring at you. You don’t need introductions to know who’s who, you recognize them instantly.

“Jace, Luke!” You exclaim before you stride over to try and stay composed in front of other people, but you can’t contain your excitement, nor can they contain theirs; you laugh excitedly and break into a sprint. When you get close enough you throw your arms around the both of them to pull them into a group embrace.

“Look how you’ve both grown!” You exclaim and pull back to grab their shoulders to study these changed faces they have grown into.

“Look at you,” Lucerys counters sweetly. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You shoot him a sweet smile. “I would say the same thing considering you’re taller now, and lost those precious curls, but you still carry that sweet face.”

Lucerys scoffs softly and his cheeks grow red whilst he offers you a soft and sweet smile. Yet when his eyes land on your scar his smile falters.

“Cool huh?” You redirect. “My friend, Lord Stark says it adds character. Perhaps I shall tell you how I got it.” You try to make him feel better so he doesn't worry over a scar that happened years ago and wasn't his fault.

“Please do,” Jacaerys interjects, drifting your eyes to the taller brown-haired boy who now has a stronger chin, broader shoulders, and a charming grin rather than that sweet and innocent smile you remember him having.

“Have you grown?” You tease Jacaerys. “I think you’ve…hm, nope you’ve stayed the same height, Little Prince.”

Lucerys snickers and Jacaerys parts his lips to snap back but he just glares at you instead and mutters, “I’ve matured, I suggest you do the same.”

Lucerys and you look at each other with the same teasing look before you both burst out laughing. Jacaerys watches the both of you with a pout, but he can’t stand it so he laughs with you.

“How I’ve missed you sister,” Jacearys says as he pats your shoulder.

“We have so much to catch up later,” you lean in and whisper. “Now, now,” you repeat happily and turn away from them to face the little boy in front of the timid Rhaena.

“You must be Joffrey,” you direct at the boy and pick up your gowns skirt to crouch before him. “I’m your sister,” you say and then state your name even though your name has been spoken to him many times in your absence. You just feel like doing that courtesy to the little boy. “The last time I saw you, you were an itty babe. Now you’re almost a man grown.” You beam at him.

He smirks and raises his chin proudly. “I remember,” he counters a bit smugly.

You snicker and hear your mother laugh softly.

“Ah, do you?” You question him and look at him with an entertained and feigned curious look.

Joffrey nods. “I do.”

You shoot him a smirk and mirror his confidence. “Good then, have you missed me terribly?”

“I have.” He nods in agreement.

You stand to your given height and grin at him. “Good answer, that’s what I like to hear.” You praise him and ruffle his hair before you proceed to glance up to meet the kind gaze of Rhaena.

“Cousin,” you greet.

“Princess,” she greets before you both close the gap with a much more gentle hug. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise,” you say and pull back. “You look lovely.”

Rhaena offers you a shy smile and then says, “Congratulations on your babe. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s not the same as in person.”

You touch your chest and speak with delight. “Thank you so much, it means a lot. I’ll bring him around later when you’ve settled, and after lunch with Baela?” You ask. “I want to hear all you have to say. Well, all you can’t write on a letter.”

“That sounds like a marvelous idea,” Rhaena assures you.

You smile softly and whisper, “good,” before you step back and get ready to finally bring them inside—

Until you remember someone else with them.

You exhale out your nose and merely face your stepfather Daemon with a feigned smile. “Prince Daemon, I hope the sea wasn't rough.”

Said man shakes his head stiffly. “Not at all. It’s a pleasure seeing you again.”

You hide your face of disgust and hum softly before you respond very dryly. “And you.” You sigh and quickly point to the doors to end this greeting. “Let’s head inside.”

They all follow you without question, and the moment they're surrounded by castle walls and protected by a tall ceiling, everyone gawks at the change that the Red Keep has gone through since they were last here until those who have to break away from the group get sent away, leaving you with your mother, Daemon, and the babies.

“Cassandra,” you tell one of the servants following you. “Show my mother's handmaidens to the kids' chambers, they can stay with Aerion. “Have baths drawn for my mother and the prince after their visit with the King, and set for lunch at the gardens for my cousins and I.”

The servant nods her head and scurries off, letting your mother fall beside you. “Being in charge suits you,” she praises you.

You smile softly. “It’s either that or sewing by my fire,” you scoff. “There’s not much I can do here, so I take what I can.”

You meet her gaze and shoot her smirk. “And I also like it.”

Your mother smiles back at you, but you then falter and sigh deeply. “I do what I can,” you add from deep inside. “With grandfather, at court…I hope you understand that.”

Your mother shakes her head softly. “Don’t you worry about that, my sweet,” she assures you. “I understand.”

The corner of your lips tug to a relieved smile and her words do work to assure your worry.

Throughout the year there has been this pesky doubt in your head that made you think you’d somehow disappoint your mother. It’s good that she doesn’t think so even though you don’t have much power here, not with Alicent seeming to ice you out after about a month of trying to be kind? You try your best with what you can do; whether it’s putting out good words for your family, and or doing good deeds in your mother's name. And with your grandfather, well, you try what you can, but that’s not much besides simple company.

“I would say it��s nice to be home,” your mother interjects with a change of subject. “But I scarcely recognize it.”

Daemon hums and walks ahead, letting you comment in high Valyrian so bypassers won’t understand. “<The vipers have spread their poison deep in these halls.>” You steal a glimpse at all the faith symbols that have replaced the dragons and huff.

“<I see that,” your mother responds in the same language. “It’s unfortunate they can’t poison themselves.>

You hum in agreement and keep quiet as footsteps trail up behind you while you climb the stairs that lead to the King's chambers.

“Princess,” a familiar voice calls out.

You look back and see Vanessa, so you stop in your tracks and let your mother catch up to her husband so you can hear what Vanessa has to urgently say.

“What is it?” You probe.

Vanessa leans by your ear and whispers, “there was a problem in Aegon’s chambers involving a servant girl. She was then taken to the Queen's quarters right away.”

You snap your eyes to meet her gaze and the corner of your lips pulls to a smirk. “Good job. Thank you for telling me, go find out more and talk to me later.” You tell her and grab her hand with a smile. “Be careful.”

Vanessa nods and then turns to leave back where she had come from, letting you catch up to the pair you had been with. And once Vanessa is out of sight they both look at you curiously, and only your mother presses you.

“Is everything all right?”

You draw in a deep breath and this time give Daemon your attention too. “I don’t know,” you exhale. “It truly depends…<the serpent is getting ready to strike again.>” You hide your smirk as they’re only more confused and instead just leave them to their curiosity for now. “I’ll tell you later. I can’t now.”

It’s not the most jaw-dropping news, and it’s not surprising either, but you know that they’ll at least be somewhat shocked that you have a way to know, and you also know Daemon will like what you have to say since you both hate how the Hightower’s like to think they’re holier than thou but ignore the nasty activities that Aegon does so it won't taint their image in all the wrong ways.

It's absurd and annoying, and they're all hypocrites, but regardless since your mother and Daemon are going to visit your grandfather, you let them be and catch up to your brothers instead.

“Jace! Luke!” You call to them the moment you see the back of their heads, making them stop in their tracks just before they can reach the door.

“You should have told us to wait for you,” Jacaerys says as he watches you get between them.

You shrug. “Matters come up, I wouldn’t have wanted you to waste your afternoon waiting,” you explain and hook your arm around Lucerys to walk with them now. “Anyways, where is it you’re heading to?”

“Training yard,” Lucerys points out even if you already knew since you recognize the hall. “We’ve just been walking around. Seeing what's new.”

You hum and feel the gentle breeze the moment the doors open for the three of you and welcome you outside to the sound of clashing metal, clamoring echoes throughout the training yard, and murmurs from the stairs.

At first when you had just arrived from Winterfell, hearing and seeing the halls and courtyards filled with people was hard getting used to since Winterfell was quieter and less busy, but now the noise and all the people are tuned out.

“Now tell me sweet brothers how much you’ve missed seeing my pretty face,” you interject teasingly and let Lucerys go to spin around on your heels and walk back on the stairs, making Lucerys grow concerned over your lack of care.

“The days have been truly dreadful,” Jacaerys feeds your ego. “The years passed by with little meaning without you.”

You flash Jacaerys a grin and squeal. He may be sarcastic but you don’t care, you like his response regardless.

“Be careful,” Lucerys warns, but you ignore him and spin around to grab the railing and rush down the stone steps. “How does it look now that you’ve gotten older? I know I thought this castle was much bigger when I returned.”

“Really?” Lucerys questions. “It’s smaller than I remember.”

You hum softly and glance out at the training yard, catching a crowd of people surrounding Aemond at the far end of the yard.

He isn’t hard to miss, his long silver hair gives him away, and his fascinating skills attract anyone passing by. He surely catches your attention right now too, just like the many times before.

“It looks exactly the same,” Jacaerys retorts in a much more lighthearted tone than your little brother. “Oh, Luke, come on.”

Jacaerys rushes past you and chooses to lead the way.

“I have to show you both my archery skills,” you interject happily and run to a rack of weapons. “I think they’re a lot better than my sword skills, especially when I’m on Dragonback!”

However, before you can grab a bow Jacaerys grabs your hand and pulls you with him towards the gates. “Look,” he laughs and pats a dent on the stone wall. “This is what Lucerys made with Ser Criston’s Morningstar.”

You share an entertained gaze and feel the bumpy dent. “Little Luke?” You ask.

Jacaerys nods. “Yes! He thought he was stronger than he was,” he says and turns to speak louder so Lucerys can hear now. “See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s Morningstar.” He then glances at you again and snickers. “He almost took his own head off.”

You giggle softly before you pull him back to the rack where Lucerys stayed. Rather than grabbing a bow and arrows though, your gaze falls on the sparring swords.

“Careful,” Jacaerys warns with feigned concern. “What would your husband say about you grabbing such a weapon? This is for men.”

You roll your eyes and wrap your hand around a long sword. “He can go speak to Astraea if he has anything to say about it.”

Jacaerys scoffs softly, but rather than countering with something witty, he addresses something else. “What’s your problem?”

You pick your eyes off the weapons and look at your side, catching a glum frown on Lucerys face, and growing concerned too.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” Lucerys answers quietly.

You peer back and catch gawkers whispering amongst each other as their eyes pierce into your brothers.

One doesn't need to be a genius to know what they’re whispering about, it’s why you’re so quick to pierce a glare into all of them, but since they’re so focused on their gossip they don’t catch you glaring right back at them. Nor do you actually draw their attention just yet, you play it off discreetly and instead counter back to Jacaerys by clashing the sword in your hand against the dagger he had picked up.

Jacaerys flashes you a proud grin, and you mirror it before you both turn toward the rack again and fist bump.

No matter how far you’ve been, or the fact that you haven't seen each other in years, your bond hasn’t broken. Now that they aren’t little and annoying—well they’re still probably annoying because they are your little brothers, but now that you’re older, you get along a lot better than before.

This is a fine example, neither Jacaerys nor you have to say anything, you just clash your sparring weapons as if it was planned.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark…” Lucerys adds and goes quieter. “If…I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon and you, sister, rather than Ser Harwin Strong.”

You put the weapon down and shuffle closer to him before you look back again, and let yourself get noticed this time by the onlookers who aren’t gathered around Aemond and Ser Criston. You don’t shoot them daggers, but you do meet their gazes and lift your nose in the air to demonstrate your power.

They realize they were caught staring and gossiping so they shut their mouths and turn to slowly walk away, letting you exhale and face Lucerys now. “People talk regardless,” you tell him and grab his shoulder so he can meet your gaze. “It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you might look like, they talk because they have nothing better to do with their lives. Ignore them, what they think doesn’t matter. They’re commoners with nothing compared to you.”

You offer your brother a soft smile before you ruffle his hair. Lucerys exhales softly and offers you a tiny smile.

After that, before anything else can be said, the sound of cracking wood and cheering steals the attention of all three of you and pulls towards Aemond and Ser Criston sparring.

Like many times before they’re the stars of the training yard, when they spar many people gather to watch them fight. And why wouldn't they? They’re an impressive pair.

“Come,” you urge your brothers before you break away from them to push through the crowd and watch Aemond swing his shiny sword from up close. However, he misses as Ser Criston slides back, making you focus all of your attention on his counterattack, and hold your breath as you watch how Aemond barely blocks the move with his shield.

After Aemond throws the shield to the side and stands back to his given height, you slowly breathe out and squint your eyes to follow how he swings his arm at the knight.

Nonetheless, Ser Criston then responds by swinging his weapon but ends up failing and hits the ground, making the pair then swiftly switch sides and watch each other.

You begin to smirk and watch them circle each other before Ser Criston uses his aggression and swings at Aemond, but misses every time. It’s only as he gets closer that he finally makes contact when your husband chooses to clash his sword against the weapon before he spins around Ser Criston and brings an end to the spar by pointing the blade at his throat.

You immediately beam and clap with glee.

“Well done, my prince,” Ser Criston says as he lowers his hand. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” Aemond snaps back. “Nephews,” he then addresses your brothers beside you without actually looking at them.

He doesn't even proceed to, no first he lowers his weapon and then meets your gaze briefly before he drops his eye on your brothers.

“You come to train?” Aemond asks.

The corner of your lips tug to a soft smile and you look at your brothers to await their response, but Aemond then addresses you, “My love.”

You blink and meet his gaze again with a smile before you both meet halfway.

“Have you come to train?” He asks as he grabs your hand to lift your knuckles to his lips and press a gentle kiss on them.

“I’ve come to see you train,” you rebuttal and grab his shoulder to lean in and give him a small kiss on his lips. “<I’ve missed you, it’s like I haven’t seen you all day.>” You comment in High Valyrian.

Aemond smirks and cups your jaw. “<Let me kiss you so I can have something to think about when you’re not with me.>”

Sweet words like those are why you came to be with child so quickly after your marriage. His voice is so sexy and soothing, it's like a spell in your ears. He enchants you with every word that goes past his pink lip. It’s why you can’t say no, you kiss him with a burning passion that grows every day, and eagerly bite his bottom lip without caring that there’s a crowd; they want something to look at? Well, they can see the love you and Aemond share.

The one and only reason why you cut the kiss short is because your brothers are here, but you still don’t step away from Aemond, you hold his gaze with a smirk.

“Open the gates!” Voices break through the courtyard, causing you to slide your hands to Aemond’s chest and turn your head to watch the gates.

Much to your misfortunate though, it’s your uncle Ser Vaemond Velaryon; he marches down surrounded by his people proudly showing off the Velaryon sigil and the bright house colors.

You know he sees the crowd, the boy that he wants to dethrone, but he acts like he doesn’t care, and acts nonchalant as he slithers past.

Oh, but you can't wait for that smirk to be wiped off his face when he loses his fight on the morrow. If only you can do it now. What you’d give him to see him beg for his pathetic life in front of Astraea, or any dragon really.

It’s a bit extreme, sure, but who in the Seven Hell cares? You don’t.

——

*LATER*

“Look at that!”Jacearys exclaims and pulls your hand to him to get a closer look at the glimmering sapphire ring on your finger. “It’s huge! Mother look.” He lifts your hand over the couch, making you lift your head to peer over. Albeit your mother doesn’t pay much mind to the ring on your finger, she just glances and hums before she focuses back on Aerion. Ever since you brought him to her all she does is swoon over him, she doesn’t even seem to want to let him go. She especially likes how little Viserys finds baby Aerion so fascinating.

They’re so young and untouched by this stupid feud between the family that it’s nice watching them play so innocently with each other. Sure, at first Aerion was cautious of her and the others, but that’s because he hadn’t seen any of them before until this very moment. After he accumulated he quickly became equally as enamored by his grandmother and couldn’t get enough of her.

Maybe he can also sense the babe she carries?

“How is it that you carry yourself?” Jacaerys teases and drops your hand. “I mean that big head of yours is already weighing you down.” He snickers, and Lucerys stifles his laughter.

You look away from your mother to shoot Jacaerys a pointed look as you fake laugh before you shove him back with your foot.

“Look at your hands,” you redirect as you stroke your cat's fur. “It looks like they haven’t seen a day of work in your entire life.” You blink and look back at Baela with a smirk. “How can you marry a prince like that?” You tease with a snarky laugh.

Baela smiles softly, and Jacaerys rolls his eyes and sits on your legs since your head is on Baela’s lap. “Let me see your hands then,” he argues.

You lift your left hand off your cat and show him a scar that trails over your middle, ring, and pinky finger. “I got this from ice.”

Lucerys drags himself over on the couch and leans over to look at what you’re showing off.

“Fuck off,” Jacaerys scoffs.

You sit up straight and let Rhaena see too since she approaches with curiosity of her own. “I’m being completely honest!” You defend yourself. “Ice burns! The maester said I was lucky, I could’ve gotten my fingers amputated.”

“Okay,” Jacaerys plays along as he still finds your story made up. “How did you get it?”

You smile softly at your hand as a memory of Cregan and Arra comes to mind. “Uh, my friends Lord Stark, his lady wife, and I were out skating on the iced-over lake, and then we heard a cry out in the woods nearby, so me, being ever so curious—” you laugh softly and glance at all of them paying close attention. “I went to check it out, that’s when we saw a stag stuck under an ice cap. I didn’t have gloves on so as Cregan helped the stag, and Arra helped me, I lifted the ice cap with my sleeves over my hands. Albeit half of my left sleeve slipped so it only covered half of my hand, and I couldn’t let the ice go or else it would hit the stag again, so I had to let it burn.”

Jacaerys sits back and hums with his eyes squinted on you, so you challenge his gaze.

“I’m telling the truth! I swear it,” you plead your case.

“I knew ice was cold,” Lucerys interjects, “but I never knew it could do that.”

You nod softly. “Ice is dangerous, but it’s beautiful. At night when the moon hits it, it shines like stars.” You grin with excitement. “We need to go North. All of us, on Dragonback! Rhaena can ride with me since Astraea is bigger. I know a spot on The Wall we can go to so we can see what lies behind it.”

“I thought the dragons didn't go past it,” Rhaena adds, causing your gaze to drift to her—“I read it. Is it true?”

You glance down and think back to the few times you did fly to the wall. “Well,” you answer unsurely. “We never went past the wall, we would land on top of it each time, but,” you hum and blink repeatedly in confusion. “I think now that you mention it, Astraea would never wander past the wall, she’d stay perched or just circle behind me.”

“Huh,” Jacaerys breathes out thoughtfully.

You look at Rhaena and smirk at her. “Thanks for pointing it out, Rhaena,” you add. “I never gave it much thought, now I’m extremely curious as to why.”

“Perhaps,” Baela cuts in with a smirk that matches yours. “We should try it out? See what the dragons do this time. That’d be fun!”

You nod in agreement, and just as you do the door opens, pulling the attention of everyone to the entrance. That’s when you see Prince Daemon walk in, and you instantly begin to lose your smile.

You’d ask what he was doing here but unfortunately, he is your mothers…husband—

Please if your eyes rolling could make a sound, it would be the loudest sound in the room.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Daemon cuts through the silence that had built in the parlor room. “As you were.”

You cross your arms over the couch to rest your chin on your hands and watch every step he takes with a discreet piercing glare as he approaches your mother holding Aerion.

It doesn’t matter if he’s your mother's husband, your uncle, step-father, and father of your younger brothers, you don’t like him. You don’t trust him. You don’t like how carries himself as if he’s the best in the world. You don’t like the way he talks or the way he acts. You had no reason to be wary of him before, but now?

It’s no accident how your father died. Ser Qarl cared for your father, he never had any ill intentions. He didn’t kill your father, his paramour. You just—no, you just know you're right!

Besides, it’s no coincidence your father's death happened as soon as Lady Laena died! You’ve heard the rumors of how creepy Daemon was with your mother when she was young. You know who he is, The Rogue Prince, it’s not unlike him to kill and manipulate to get something he wants.

You can’t make your mother see it, you have no proof. You can’t make your brothers support you for that same reason, so they can like him until then. And maybe you’re just delusional, feeding this stupid hatred, but how can you not think of it that way? How can you like him? You loved your father and he’s gone now, he died moments after Daemon walked into your mother's life again. In your eyes, Daemon is the monster that took him away. A demon incarnate.

His evil eyes catch your stare, but you don’t look away, you lift your nose in the air and narrow your glare until he’s the one that drifts his gaze away.

“Tell me my sweet,” your mother interjects as she walks to Daemon to show Aerion off with pride. “Has there been any improvement with the dragon egg?”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, it hasn’t hatched, but,” you add with a soft smile. “If it doesn’t then it’ll be fine. Maybe he’s meant to bond with Seasmoke or another dragon. Aemond hopes he will bond with a bigger one later on too.”

“It’s common for us to bond with dragons later on,” Daemon cuts in even if you did not ask. “Maybe he’s meant to ride the fiercest.”

You clench your jaw but hum in agreement, and thankfully your mother fills your silence. “Do you like the sound of that, little prince?” She tells Aerion. “Riding the fiercest dragon in the world?”

You watch her smile at him, and he smiles back, so you can’t help but do the same regardless of the thorn on your side that keeps stabbing you.

“If the gods are graceful,” she continues softer and grabs his little fist to press a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “You and my Visenya will ride side by side.”

Aerion coos happily, making your mother giggle and for Daemon to caress Aerion’s head.

You don’t like it, you’d take Aerion away from his proximity, but you hold yourself together and bite your tongue. Even if it is very, very difficult.

“What was the news that was shared with you earlier?” Daemon once again cuts in. “You said you’d share it.”

Calm down. Calm down…

You put the cat down to push yourself off the couch and stretch your limbs before you walk to the small table holding the wine. “<I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors that get spread around by the little birds about the Queen’s eldest son,” you begin to say to everyone in High Valyrian in case bypassers pass the parlor room, or stop by. “ Well,” you snicker as you pour yourself wine. “That’s been me and a close friend I met a couple of months back.>” You turn and walk towards the balcony doors to let the sun kiss your flesh.

Everyone in the room watches you closely, but you notice that it’s Daemon who pays more attention than most.

“<Today news,” you continue and take a sip of the sweet red wine. “Mhmm, well,” you smack your lips and lower the goblet. “My handmaiden found out that the eldest son assaulted a servant in his bedchambers. She then said…> you trail off and smirk as you turn, causing the sun's beaming rays to reflect off your eyes which in turn makes them burn ferociously, while the same sunbeams bounce off your white-silver hair so brightly that it’s like seeing diamonds gleam.

“<… that the Queen paid off the servant to keep her mouth shut and leave,” you pause to lift the cup to your lips and smirk deeply at your wine. “But I paid her triple to stay with my close friend.> You sip your wine and hear Daemon snicker.

This time you can’t help but be actually proud of his speechless approval.

“Why?” Lucerys asks.

You lower the goblet and meet his gaze. “<Why what? Why I take time out of my day to spy around the castle? Well, to taint the reputation of the Hightowers that they think is so holy. They parade the eldest son around as if he’s some angel or some Aegon the Conqueror incarnate, so I want to undermine them. And two,” you shrug. “I don’t like the eldest son, no one in the city does. He’s a drunk, and a rapist with no sense of duty…I’m also bored. That’s why.>”

Your mother hums and only takes a few steps towards where you are. “How do you do it?” She asks. “I'm sure that they have eyes on you all the time.”

You shake your head. “Not as much as you’d think, but,” you say and turn to walk to a round table. “<I remember you would disappear through secret doors,” you continue in Valyrian. “I came back, went exploring and after getting lost a few times I found myself around. We use that.>” You finish and lean back against the table's edge to set your goblet down.

“Who’s this friend?” Daemon probes.

“Do you trust her?” Jacaerys cuts in and gets off the couch.

You scoff and shake your head whilst you now push yourself off the table to walk to your mother and Aerion. “Only a fool would trust the White worm, but we have common enemies so we bond over our discontent of certain people.” You say and take Aerion from your mother now.

Your mother shares a slight smirk and says, “I never thought you could be so calculating, my sweet.”

You meet her gaze and shake your head. “Not calculating, I’m playing it smart, like you told me.”

Your mother responds with a gentle smile before she caresses your chin and then wanders over to Daemon. “You don’t happen to have something on Ser Vaemond do you?”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “No. Sorry, but don’t worry, I’m sure it will go the right way on the morrow.” You try to assure them before glancing at Lucerys and offering him an assuring smile.

Lucerys sighs deeply and slouches as his concern clouds over him.

“I’ll pray to the old gods, they listen.” You say hopefully before you look at your son. “Now we must go. We had a lovely day.”

You look at your mother and then at your brothers and cousins to offer them an excited grin. “It was good seeing you all. I’ve truly missed you all. It hasn’t felt like home until now,” you share and sigh softly before you walk to the door. “I’ll see you to break fast. Good night.”

“Good night!” Everyone says after you. And just before you can disappear past the doors, you offer them one last smile.

Once you’re out in the hall past the parlor room you meet your son's wandering gaze and speak to him. “Now let’s go see your father. He must miss us. I know I miss him, do you?”

The baby coos, making you laugh softly before you press him against your chest to embrace him with so much affection.

Last year you wished to be back at Winterfell, you wished for this life to be shared with Cregan, but now…you have to admit that you can’t picture your life with anyone else but Aemond. So…maybe it’s time that your letters to Cregan come to a stop…

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

The clamoring spread throughout the throne room cuts off, providing a chilling silence. Eyes fall on a Daemon right away as he walks down the stairs, but their gazes then quickly dart to his other side where your mother is since the petitions being held today are about Lucerys, and don't dare lose sight as if afraid they'd miss something. They itch to murmur their despicable rumors while they watch her, but they bite their tongue and just watch with caution and curiosity.

When it comes to you, the guard announces your name and your title but adds that last bit of information that has been attached to you since the day you wed, as if you turned to his property since that day. “…And the lady wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

You distaste it but there's nothing that can be done and Aemond says that there’s no harm in a title. But they don’t call him your husband every time he walks down some room, do they?

Regardless, the onlookers watch with slight surprise because for once since you’ve been married you’re not attached to Aemond, instead you trail behind your mother and take the lead in front of her heir, and the heir to Driftmark. Even Alicent’s gaze tears you apart as she watches you walk in with your nose in the air, and a sense of cockiness in the sway of your hips, showing that now that you were surrounded by your family you were out of her touch.

“Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon, followed by Lady Rhaena of House Targaryen.” The guard finishes announcing, letting the whispering pick up again, and the curious gazes focus solely on Lucerys, who was already feeling insecure as it is and probably feels even worse now.

Thus you slow down your pace to walk in between him and Jacaerys. “<You’re a prince,” you whisper to your little brother in High Valyrian as you shoot daggers at the audience watching him. “What they think does not matter.>”

Lucerys’s eyes fall on you and he hesitantly whispers back. “I know.”

You blink and look at him with a soft look and a sweet smile, making Lucerys mirror your gesture.

When you reach the front of the throne room you take a step towards the other side to go stand by Aemond, but you’re suddenly interrupted.

“Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.” The guard announces before closing the doors.

You quickly shuffle back to your mother's side and stand beside Jacaerys to watch the one person everyone was left waiting on, Ser Vaemond.

Your grandmother and Baela were already here, as were Alicent, Aemond, and his siblings, so now you’re stuck with your family and only able to hold Aemond’s gaze from across the floor.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds,” Lord Otto starts the petition and silences the crowd. “We gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all matters.” He says and pulls his coat to confidently sit on the Iron Throne. “The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

You clench your jaw and sigh, you don’t even bother to look at the man, you keep looking at your husband across from you as if you haven’t seen him your whole life.

“My Queen,” Ser Vaemond addresses the people who will determine who succeeds your grandfather Corlys. “My Lord Hand. The history of our noble houses extend beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria….”

Oh please can he just get on with it.

“…for as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom occurred on Valyria our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebears came to this new land knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

“As it does in my four eldest children,” your mother suddenly interrupts him. “The offspring of Laenor Velaryon.”

You glance at the ground and smirk proudly at your mother's words and confidence.

“If you care so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition—”

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Alicent cuts your mother off. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

What else can he say? That’s all that man can say unless he wants his tongue cut off.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?” Ser Vaemond directs at your mother now, causing you to lift your gaze and notice him now facing your mother. “I can cut my veins and show it to you…”

Oh gods, how pathetic.

You roll your eyes and meet Aemond’s gaze to share your annoyance. He was already looking at you so he responds with a small agreeing smirk.

“…and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” Ser Vaemond spats and then turns to face Lord Otto again. “My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor…the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

You exhale deeply in annoyance and clasp your hands in front of you, ending with you fiddling with your sapphire ring out of boredom.

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond,” Lord Ottos says, letting the man step aside to now address your mother. “Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

You lift your gaze again and watch your mother step in the center to now speak her argument. This time, unlike with Ser Vaemond, you actually care what has to be said.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer. I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very—”

The doors suddenly opening cut off your mother's speech and turn all heads back. And when your eyes fall on the exit you gasp softly in surprise as you see none other than the sick King.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of his Name,” one of his Kingsguard announces to everyone in the hall, creating a disbelieved chill that everyone can feel. “…King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

He’s always been in too much pain to do much of anything, even when he’s lying down he doesn’t find comfort, but here he comes hobbling forward now, much to everyone's surprise and yours.

His breathing is clearly growing shallow but he makes no effort to stop, he pushes forward. He doesn’t even accept the help of his Kingsguard, he pushes on and only pauses once; that's when his crown slips off his head and clinks on the floor. And much to your surprise instead of letting the guards run to his aide, you catch Daemon leaving his spot to walk over to his brother the King. He picks up the crown that fell and helps his brother to his throne.

That alone surprises you more than your grandfather attending this petition. It shouldn’t, you saw how affectionate he was with your mother at breakfast, but Daemon’s…kindness shocks you.

“I must…” the King breaks the shocked silence that covers the hall. “…Admit…my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession.”

Exactly! So can we please now end this farce and your boredom!

“The only one present…” your grandfather continues to strain himself. “…who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

Your eyes, along with everyone else’s travel to your grandmother.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” she interjects very calmly and with as much surprise as everyone else before stepping to the center. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son…Lucerys Velaryon.”

If you could laugh at this very moment you would, but you can’t so you just smirk very smugly at Ser Vaemond.

“His mind never changed,” your grandmother continues to add. “Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys’s youngest granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena...”

So she did end up agreeing? The call was left for her to take. Or at least that was your understanding.

Good nevertheless. Now the twins will be your good-sisters as well!

You share that happiness with both Baela and Rhaena by offering them both a kind smile as your grandmother finishes speaking her argument.

“...a proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well,” your grandfather interjects. “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The corner of your lips tug to a wider smile, and this time you meet your brother's gaze to share your pride, and soft and cocky, “I told you so,” look.

“You break law,” Ser Vaemond bluntly cuts in, causing your smile to fall and turn to an annoyed frown—“And centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.”

You scoff under your breath and twist your face to show your disgust for this man and his words.

“Yet you dare tell me…who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No,” he mutters. “I will not allow it.”

Who does he think is?

“Allow it?” Your grandfather repeats with spite. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“That!” Ser Vaemond yells as he twists around on his heels to point at Lucerys with anger. “Is no true Velaryon. And certainly no nephew of mine.”

You raise your chin and scowl whilst you fist your hands at your sides.

“Go to your chambers,” your mother tells Lucerys before addressing Ser Vaemond. “You have said enough.”

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson,” your grandfather argues. “And you…are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

“You,” Ser Vaemond snaps. “May run your house as you see fit…but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom! And a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned,” he hisses and throws his head to the side to glare at Lucerys. “I will not see it ended on the account of this…” he trails off and closes his mouth, but you and your family know what he was going to say.

“Say it,” you catch Daemon quietly egg him on.

“Her sons,” Ser Vaemond continues and narrows his glare on your mother, making you step forward to her side and grab her hand.

“Are bastards!” Ser Vaemond bellows.

The audience begins to murmur, and you curl your lips to a scowl, whilst your mother's hand tightens around you.

“And she,” Ser Vaemond continues and faces the King. “Is…a whore.”

You swallow thickly and grab your mother's arm to try and give her comfort.

“I,” your grandfather pants, snapping your attention to him now out of his chair. “Will have your tongue for that.” He threatens him with his blade.

However, before anything can happen you’re startled by the sound of metal loudly slicing through flesh. When you look at where the sound comes from you gasp in horror, and quickly cover your mouth as you see half of Ser Vaemond’s head fall to the floor.

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon retorts smugly as he puts his blade down.

“Disarm him!” Lord Otto shouts, causing the Kingsguard to pull out their blades and surround him.

“No need,” Daemon says as he cleans his sword with his cloak, and then returns to where he was.

“Call the maesters!” Alicent’s shout breaks you from your shock and snaps your eyes away from the bleeding body to watch her run to your grandfather groaning on his Iron Throne.

“Father?” Your mother calls out and slips away from you to head to him. However, she doesn’t make it far since Alicent is already helping him.

“Please, my love,” you hear her tell your grandfather as she helps him off his chair. “You must take something for the pain.”

“I will not cloud my mind,” he argues as he holds onto her. “I must put things right.”

The maester and one of his Kingsguard takes him from the Queen and helps him out of the Throne room, bringing it all to a bitter end once and for all, and letting people in that are going to come pick up the body, while you step away from your spot and face your family.

“I will see you all for supper,” you tell them with a soft smile.

Your mother nods in comprehension, and that’s all you need as a response to part ways with a gentle goodbye kiss on her cheek before you turn to walk towards Aemond, already waiting for you in the center.

When you get close he reaches his hand out for yours and you gladly take it. And unbeknownst to you, when you're heading out, he glances back at your family, and they watch his gaze linger for a moment with a sly smirk as if taunting them, or showing off how much you love him before he presses a kiss on your head and rolls his head ahead.

——

*LATER*

“A gift from the Queen,” you repeat what your handmaiden Vanessa said before she unveiled a gown slathered in green and hints of gold.

Sure it’s a beautiful gown, the shoulders are covered by gold metal dragon scales, and the front is very impressive; it has a long and elegant gold embroidered cut down the middle which is quite to your liking—you hate feeling restricted in a gown, but it’s green. She wants you to make a statement at supper in front of your mother and Aemond. You know it.

But you don’t want to pick sides. It’s stupid and there is no need for such a thing. So you don’t wear the green gown, nor do you choose a black one.

“Put it away,” you tell Vanessa, “I can wear it another day, but do send the Queen a thank you card. Pull out the lilac one instead, the one…with the pleated skirt and silk dragon scales over the breasts. I like the diamond cut it has over the belly and the sides ”

Vanessa smiles and nods. “That one is my favorite too. I much prefer the gold embroidered dragon scales on it though.”

You giggle and give your attention back to the letters you had saved from Cregan. You cherish his soft-spoken words and the way he writes. When you miss him you enjoy rereading what he wrote as if it was a story. But you…can’t have him as a temptation anymore, you love him, he was your first love, but you have to let him go for Aerion and Aemond.

Even if it hurts you have to let him go. You’ll miss him for a long time, maybe forever, but it’s for the best. Thus before Aemond can walk in, you approach the fireplace with the letters in your hand and crouch in front of the tall flames. You push the letters forward but hesitate before the flames can touch the parchment.

You can’t…

Your bottom lip begins to tremble, and a lump begins to form in your throat.

You can’t—but you have to. You have to. He has to be a memory. So after a deep breath, you close your eyes and throw the letters in the fire. When you feel nothing weighing your hands down, when you hear the fire crackle you slowly open your eyes and let tears escape past your eyes.

Cregan has to be a memory…

You watch the letters burn away, you watch the flames dance, feel the heat warm your face, but it never burns.

In fact, while you watch the flames eat away the parchment they seem to induce you, you feel suddenly captivated by the bright burning flames instead of cautious. For a moment it feels like there’s nothing else around you but fire.

You mindlessly begin to move your hand to reach out for the flames, even if in the back of your mind you’re telling yourself to stop, that it can burn, but you keep inching your hand closer and closer.

There comes a point where your fingers are embraced by the flames. Yet you don't break you from your stupor, now you’re completely fascinated, hoping that seeing your hands be unscathed by the fire isn’t some crazy dream. You move your hand deeper and smile as the fire keeps embracing your flesh, but then approaching from the hall are familiar footsteps, so you pull your hand away and quickly stand up.

A knock then raps on the door before it opens and Aemond walks in.

“You’re not dressed yet,” he points out.

You look away from the flames and meet his gaze. “I'm going to take a bath,” you tell him and walk to the bathtub but make sure to peer back to face him with a smirk. “Join me? Supper isn’t until, about, two hours?”

“One,” he corrects you.

You shrug him off and watch Vanessa walk out of your closet with your dress.

“Do you like the dress I picked out?” You ask him to pass the time while you wait for Vanessa to walk out before you can help him undress.

Aemond gives it a long look before meeting your gaze and nodding. “I like when you wear purple. It’s always been your favorite color.”

You grin brighter and nod. “It has because well, I heard that since lilacs bloom in the spring, the color lilac represents first love,” you speak out softly as you twist slowly on your heels to walk to him.

Aemond swallows thickly as he holds your gaze the entire time.

“And blue, sapphire blue, and red make purple,” you laugh and begin to fiddle with his buckles when you close the gap between the two of you.

Aemond hums and only looks away because Vanessa walks out of the room. When you can no longer hear her out in the hall he gives you all his attention and lets you take his eyepatch off.

“There it is,” you whisper as you place the eyepatch down before you then take no time to help him undress.

Aemond also steps in and slips your robe off, making you feel your body begin to burn with desire.

Once you’re both done you smack your lips together and begin to devour each other, as if it’s the first time. He pushes you back before he slides his hands to the back of your knees and helps you wrap them around his waist.

Aemond knows you have a task to do, so he sits you on the edge of the tub without letting your lips go and continues to move in sync with you until you’re the one who teases him and pulls back to dip the warm water.

Aemond scoffs in protest as he licks his swollen lips, but you just snicker and motion him over with your finger.

He challenges you as if protesting against what you did, but he can’t resist your charms so he ends up climbing in the water, and chooses to sink between your legs.

“You know,” you interject as you pull off the leather tie around his hair to let half of his hair fall over his shoulders. “I don’t even feel like going to supper.”

Aemond begins to caress your knee and probes. “Why not?”

You grab the bowl from the small table and duck it in the water to scoop some up. “Because of Daemon. Because he will be there lurking like a creep.”

Aemond hums, so you proceed to dump the water on his hair and continue to talk. “Acting like nothing happened. Like the world is his.” You scoff.

“You had breakfast with him,” Aemond points out.

You roll your eyes and shake your head whilst you begin to gently massage Aemond’s hair with what you have in hand to clean it and make it silky and soft just the way he likes it. “Yes out of courtesy. I wanted to spend time with my mother, siblings, and cousins, I can’t just be like “hey you can’t join us for breakfast.” He’s my mother's husband, and my little brother's father. My,” you pause and stick your tongue out and groan. “I can’t even say it—Regardless, I had to and well…he is nice to my mother, which counts for something. I just…” you trail off and exhale deeply.

“You miss your father,” Aemond whispers.

You brush your fingers down Aemond’s long hair and nod slowly. “I do, I miss my father. I know my mother wasn’t truly happy with him, I want her to be happy, but…” you pause and splash more water on Aemond’s hair. Once the stuff is all out he looks back to meet your watery gaze.

“What?” He presses you.

“I wish I knew what happened,” you mutter in a shaky voice. “I know Daemon had a part in it. Am I mad for thinking that?”

Aemond turns around completely and cups the side of your face. “No.” He shakes his head. “No. I would want to know too, especially because your father passed away soon after Daemon's wife died.”

You sigh in relief after hearing him express what you had been thinking too. All this time you’ve been spinning all these thoughts in your mind about the matter like a spider spins its web, trying to connect dots, and driving yourself mad in the meanwhile. You expressed that same theory to Cregan, but he shut you down and said that the story of Ser Qarl matched and that you were only going to make things worse by thinking too much about it. So it’s relieving having someone understand.

“He was so quick to kill Vaemond today,” you share. “I wouldn't put it past him to have…gotten rid of my father too.”

Aemond nods, and you can’t help but smile softly in relief. “So no, I’m not mad?” You double-check.

Aemond shakes his head. “No, my sweet love. No, I believe you. Whatever you plan to do, I will be by your side.”

You don't actually think of exposing Daemon to the masses, maybe just to your brothers to have them team up against him too. You’d even tell your mother too, but that’s about it. You just want the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

“I love you,” you tell him before you wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you…for not thinking I’m mad. I appreciate it.”

Aemond returns your embrace and presses a kiss on your head before he turns you around so you can be lying against him in between his legs.

“I love you,” he says in your ear, letting you grab his hand and press a kiss on his knuckles.

“Now,” you whisper after a moment of silence. “Tell me about your day.”

Aemond exhales deeply and helps you scrub your body with the lilac and honey-scented oils he likes smelling on your skin so much.

“Well,” he whispers. “Nothing much today. I caught up on a book I haven’t finished.”

You hum, but don’t actually leave it at that, you know him and his struggle with Lucerys. You’re not stupid, he may not tell you, and he may hide it well, but you know seeing your brother makes him mad. You can’t hold that against Aemond. It’s normal. He lost his eye after all. The only thing you won’t do is pick sides. You’ll understand both sides but never side with one over the other.

“Look,” you interject and peer over at him. “I doubt Lucerys will stay long. You’ll only have to tolerate him a bit longer. Okay?”

Aemond blinks in disbelief and doesn’t add anything. He’s just actually shocked you knew his struggle without having to actually hear him say it, and that you don’t judge his anger because you love your brother Lucerys.

“We only have to get through supper;” you assure him. “After that, we can go stay at the summer house if they stay longer,” you suggest. “We go on dragonback since Aerion enjoys flying, we can picnic by the waterfalls at sunset, and present Aerion to some horses. We can enjoy our nights stargazing in the grass fields.” You smile sweetly and look back at him. “How does that sound? Just you, Aerion, and me. And of course our dragons, hm?”

“What of you?” He says, making your smile falter. “Don’t you want to spend time with your brothers? Your mother?”

You nod. “Yes,” you agree softly. “But Aerion and I can accompany them back to Dragonstone when they leave. Stay there for a few days and come back home. How does that sound?”

“All right,” he agrees. “It’s not like you’re asking for permission.”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “No.”

You then look ahead again and watch the fire as you lean your head back against Aemond’s chest. “As of now,” you sigh, “we just survive through supper. You tolerate Lucerys, and I tolerate Daemon…it shall be fun.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- It’s cute that you don’t think the white worm is actually controlling you. Sweet summer child. So much to learn! If only there was a manipulative and cool witch coming soon to teach you her ways!

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans

[damn-stark]

Chapter 10 Heart of Ice

Chapter 10 of Moonlight

A/N- I was giggling and kicking my feet tehehe ;)

Warning- some swearing, talks of miscarriage and death, ANGST!, FLUFF, mild NFSW, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

There it is, standing so tall that it looks like it’s touching the sky. It’s mesmerizing no matter how many times you’ve seen it, and it never fails to steal your breath.

Yet the wall is at its prettiest when it weeps when the sun hits it just as it rises from the ground. Right now all it does is bring forth an icier chill as the wind blows, making you hold onto your cloak for warmth.

You can only imagine how Jacaerys is fairing, this is his first time at Castle Black.

“How are you holding up?” You make sure to ask your brother as his eyes stay stuck on the towering wall.

“My balls are about to freeze off,” he makes no effort to talk properly in front of you, nor do you remind him to.

You smile at him and look at him with a soft endearment only reserved for those you deeply cherish. “It will be worth it, I promise. I cannot wait for you to see it,” you muse and cup his shoulder.

Jacaerys finally takes his eyes off the wall and meets your gaze with such a warm smile that it’s capable of melting the thickest sheets of ice.

“It better live up to everything you have said,” he remarks lightheartedly, making you drop your head to laugh softly at the ground.

“It will pass your expectations,” Cregan interjects as he finally rejoins you and leads the way to the lift that looks a bit unreliable, but all the people at Castle Black use it, and you have survived after using it so, you walk in. Slowly of course, and you don’t dare pay too much attention to the sounds it makes as it starts moving Jacaerys, Cregan, and you to the top.

“You know,” you take the attention of the rackety noise. “Perhaps one day I will send one of my children over here to take up a role as guardian of the wall.”

“Is that so?” Cregan probes.

“One of your seven?” Jacaerys jokes and you laugh softly but don’t take back what you said, catching him by some surprise.

“It’s a rare thing for a Targaryen or Velaryon to come be a brother of the Night's Watch,” you explain your thought process to the curious men. “But we are the families the people look up to. I mean I understand the sacrifice, but I believe that for us to have a good relation with the North, and for us to protect our realm against what may be out there, we too should be here with a dragon or two.”

Cregan briefly meets your gaze and hides well those emotions you stir up inside since your brother is standing at his other side, but he doesn’t stay quiet, he takes a deep breath before he parts his lips.

“You are right, the sacrifice one must commit is great, but duty is sacrifice,” Cregan begins to say. “It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price. The North owes a great duty to the Seven Kingdoms, one older than any oath. Since the day of the first men, we have stood as guardians against the cold and the dark. Through its long tradition, the Night's Watch cultivated its strength from doomed men who had their life as their only possession. But my ancestor, Torrhen Stark began a tradition by making an offering at the onset of winter; one in 10 men from our household was to be chosen to fortify the Watch. This is not a sentence but an honor. A duty embraced by all who serve the North. Even by mine own kin. Thus I respect your decision, My Princess.”

He talks so well that even these long comments captivate you, and that’s hard to do because you get so easily bored.

“The North must stand ready,” Cregan adds without losing a breath. “Winter is coming.”

“Coming?” Jacaerys interjects. “What is this, then, that falls from the skies and shivers my bones?”

You roll your eyes away and scoff softly.

He thinks he’s so funny.

“This is only a late summer snow, my prince,” Cregan says something he’s already mentioned once before. “In winter, it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten.”

You look through the gaps on the wooden walls but the lift then shakes so you step back and stand closer to Cregan.

“It pleases me to think that over a century ago our ancestors treated in this very place,” Jacaerys mentions with a lighthearted look on his face. “The Conqueror and the King in the North.”

You can’t help but smile at the thought and the history the Starks share with your ancestors. It’s so bittersweet. But it’s all so corny of Jacaerys to say, he sounds just as infatuated as you.

You would tease him, but now doesn’t seem like the time so you just smile wider to yourself.

Cregan’s gaze wanders to you after your brother's words, and you share some of that sweetness with him because regardless of it all, you are happy Jacaerys expressed his fondness for Cregan.

And when Cregan does see your smile some of that hardened demeanor melts.

“You, at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon,” Cregan quips at your brother jokingly, leaving him silent until he queries.

“Did my sister threaten you with her dragon?”

Does he think of you as some wild beast or something?

Regardless, Cregan's eyes soften before he shakes his head and tells him what you did do. “No, but she did threaten to go over the wall and escape when she first got to Winterfell six years ago.” He says and tilts his head over to you, but you look out the window and shake your head.

“I was having a hard time adjusting,” you remind him. “And I did not end up going over the wall.”

“No,” he mutters softer as if speaking with admiration. “You did not.”

You lift your eyes off the icy wall and let yourself meet and hold his gaze with a soft look just until the lift finally lands on the top because when it comes to a sudden halt the wooden lift shakes, and you’re reminded why you hate coming to the top this way—You almost reach out to Cregan to keep yourself balanced and safe, but you stop yourself and just stand stiffly until finally he opens the door for you and your brother, letting you feel like you can breathe again when you’re on stable ground.

“My Prince, My Princess,” one of the brothers greets you while you slip your arm around your brothers to hold onto more warmth as the coldness nips at your skin.

“My Lord.”

“My Lord,” other brothers greet Cregan while he walks after you until finally he catches up and leads you to one side.

“Surely the great Torrhen Stark would’ve sooner died than bent the knee,” you chose to return to the previous topic as you watch Jacaerys’ eyes fall on every single detail you pass by. “Unless he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms.”

Cregan nods. “You are right in that,” he agrees.

“That unity is now threatened,” Jacaerys goes on for you with another clever workaround to the subject at hand. “The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oaths sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir.”

Again you can’t help but be proud of the way he speaks. But you also know this second attempt won’t mend Cregan Stark’s choice.

“Stark’s do not forget their oaths, my Prince,” Cregan reminds him proudly. “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South.”

Jacaerys glances over at you with discreet disappointment, and you press him an, ‘I told you so’ look right back.

“In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to King’s Landing,” Cregan strengthens his argument. “I need my men here.”

You swallow thickly as you come to a halt just under a post, and Jacaerys turns you around with him to pass Cregan a hard look that furrows his eyebrows. “Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne,” he remarks.

You grip onto him as a warning for him to calm down, but he doesn’t understand.

“If my mother is to defend her claim,” Jacaerys presses while Cregan guides all of you up the stairs. “To hold the realm united she needs an army. War is coming to the whole of the realm, my lord. We cannot wage it without the support of the North…” Jacaerys trails off when he reaches the top and finally sees with his own eyes the never-ending land beyond the wall, the beauty that you promised, and what you could never fully describe in words.

He moves toward the end of the post and you let your arm slip off his to let him admire for himself the beauty and the mystery that is the North, and the freedom it holds in its cold wilderness.

You can now honestly say you know the pride Cregan felt when he first brought you up here because you feel it. You are not from here, but seeing your brother be so captivated by what’s beyond the wall makes you fill with excitement that you can’t put into words, you can just express it with admiration and awe in your eyes.

Cregan notices and admires you while your brother's attention is far away, and to his surprise, you feel his stare and return his soft gaze while you also let your gloved knuckles brush against each other as you let yourself be swooped up once again by the comfort you have been fighting to feel.

Yet you don’t let yourself get completely carried away, nor do you cross the line by letting your fingers touch, you keep your smile and join your brother's side.

“Was it everything you expected?” You ask before you’re brought back to the cruel reality.

Jacaerys laughs softly and nods. “It was everything you said and more…it feels like I could stay here and admire this forever.”

“It would get cold,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“It would be pleasant,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement and dread returning to the sore subject, but you will lose yourself.

“I brought your sister, and my father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall,” Cregan finally rejoins your company. “His Grace stood at this very outlook and watched as their dragons the greatest power in the world, refused to cross it.”

Jacaerys snaps his head to you and probes for more. “Even adventurous Astraea?”

You look out and nod. “Yes. She perches herself on the wall but never once does she fly over, nor does she dare fly over just to turn. I tried to command her to cross but she disobeyed me,” you back up Cregan's argument and feel a chill crawl down your spine at the reminder.

“Do you think my ancestors built a 700-hundred-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?” Cregan presses your brother in a colder tone that almost works to frighten you.

“What does it keep out?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan leans in closer to your brother and speaks one word. “Death.”

You swallow back nervously and share your uneasiness with your brother with a simple look that actually helps him let go of some of that tension and ignorance he held.

“I have thousands of graybeards,” Cregan finally offers and breaks the speechless moment between Jacaerys and you. “Who've already seen too many winters. They are well-honed.”

You loll your head to the side and snicker, while Jacaerys says what you were thinking. “So they’re old?”

“I can ready them to march at once,” Cregan assures him and you.

Jacaerys breathes out and accepts the offer. “If your graybeards can fight, the Queen will have them.”

“They will fight hard,” Cregan states with a hint of pride and some faint smugness. “Like Northerners.”

You glance over at him and catch that smugness on his usually serious face and you can’t help your heart from skipping a beat when he glances at you with the same look.

“My Lord,” a man calls for Cregan’s attention, making his face fall hard once again. “A ravens arrived.”

The man approaches the post breathing hard as if in a hurry and hands Cregan a scroll. “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” he announces, making you understand his urgency, and causing you to fall serious and nervous yourself.

But if it is bad news wouldn't it be sent directly to Jacaerys and you?

Maybe?

Unless—

You can’t let yourself think the worst, but you still share your worry with your brother before you watch Cregan unravel the scroll to read what the news is.

He doesn’t take long to read, but it feels like he is reading for eternity in the waiting silence until finally he puts the scroll down and meets your gaze. This time when you lock eyes your heart skips a beat out of worry instead of awe, this time a smugness doesn’t play in his eyes or tug the corner of his lips up, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched like when he makes his face hard, but you can read him clear as day as you simply hold his gaze.

You can see the pity pulling his lips down, and a soft apologetic look in his grey eyes that makes them appear darker. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that what he read wasn’t a simple warning or a call home, they’re dark words that he almost but says.

You want to ask, he knows that, he sees your worry heighten in your furrowed brows and parted lips, so with a simple blink his face softens as he gives you sorrow, making your eyes immediately cloud with tears. While in the back, Jacaerys sees it, your shared past. He figures it out in the exchange that is far more complex than one friends should share, but it all makes sense now.

Your friendship always slightly caught his attention, it bugged him in some way. Not because he felt bad for Aemond that you were so sweet on another man, but all your interactions were always weird he just didn’t figure out why until this very moment as Cregan fails to look over at him after what he read, as he watches this speechless interaction and sees the deep aching softness on the Lord's face and a deep set heartache in your eyes.

He had only seen such a speechless complexity in his mother and Ser Harwin. He was too young to realize it then but as he got older he understood what happened around him, and doesn’t fail to understand now.

Yet as much as he wants to give into this anger he feels boil within him at the thought of Lord Stark taking advantage of you in your five years in Winterfell, the news that awaits him helps him stay collected. Thus he steps forward without causing a scene and finally, Lord Stark drives all the attention to him, letting him finally receive the scroll, and leave you waiting longer without focusing on Cregan any longer. Now you turn to face your brother as he reads what was sent.

Once again it feels like what was written is getting read at an infuriatingly slow pace, but now you’re not impatient to know. You’re scared to know or read Jacaerys' face now. But you keep your eyes on your brother and watch his jaw unclench and his lips part to let out a soft gasp, while his once steady hands begin to tremble, and his eyes…water.

“Jacaerys,” you almost plead his name out.

That anger he had at the waiting completely disappears and he slowly looks up at you with a loud and heartbreaking sorrow.

“Jace,” you mewl.

Said man licks his lips and sniffles before he grabs your arm and gently pulls you aside.

“Listen to me,” his voice quivers and only makes your heart race faster than it’s already beating.

“Is it…” you trail off to catch your breath. “A-Aerion?”

Jacaerys shakes his head and keeps in those tears that fill his eyes. “No, Aerion is fine,” he assures you but you don’t feel relieved.

“What?” You beg for an answer and reach for his hands, but he lifts them and tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“When,” he says shakily. “Lucerys was in StormsEnd, Aemond…”

You start to shake your head and his bottom lip trembles.

“Aemond killed Lucerys,” Jacaerys finally reveals quietly.

A cold breeze hits you and all that you had been feeling gets lost in the wind, leaving you numb.

Jacaerys calls your name but you stare ahead blankly. Theres nothing that crosses your mind, there’s nothing you feel that makes you react. You know it’s heavy and painful news, you knew they were dark words when Cregan told you speechlessly, but you can’t accept the truth that’s given. You don’t want to, you can’t because if you do then it means you will accept that your husband, the man you love…did what was written, and you don’t want to accept that.

However, Jacaerys calls out for you again and this time he grabs your arms and steals your attention, forcing you to once again connect to what you refused to feel.

“No,” you blurt and push him back. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

Jacaerys shows you the scroll as he gets close again. “You can read it yourself. It’s the truth, Lucerys…he’s,” he strains to say. “He’s…dead.”

Your heart drops and a flood of emotions rams through you, knocking the air out of your lungs, and making your legs weak.

Jacaerys grabs your arms and holds you up before you can fall and pulls you to him, letting you see how red his eyes are, and how drowned they are with tears he’s holding back.

“Jace,” you mewl and cover your mouth to sob.

Your brother nods in understanding without you having to express the rest of your sorrow. “I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

“Oh gods,” you gasp and drop your head while grabbing at your chest as you can’t seem to catch a breath. You can’t breathe. There’s so much air where you are, it’s so crisp but you can’t manage to take in any which in return only lets you feel the pounding of your heart, the rushing of your blood, and a rush of memories of your little brother Lucerys.

All you can think about is Lucerys, you imagine his last moments, and with every memory and every fake scenario the more you fail to grasp for air.

In the distance, Cregan watches how you’re breaking down, but no matter how much he wants to, he has to stay put even if it hurts not being able to help you when you need him the most. He does get close to trying something small since you are in so much pain trying to breathe, and your brother seems a bit lost on how to help you, but Jacaesys then does the first thing he thinks of and pulls you into an embrace.

Thankfully right away, at the feeling of your brother's weight, and at the feeling of his warmth, all those rushing memories slowly disappear, letting you draw in a deep breath. You pull him closer and bury your head in the crook of his neck whilst you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, and push his head down to let him bury his face on your shoulder so he can express everything he refuses to show to the public.

When he clutches onto the back of your cloak your heart comes to a slow pace, but it doesn’t stop weeping. With every ba-dum, you feel an aching pain in your chest that doesn’t go away.

Eventually, after a short time, Jacaerys pulls back and gives his back to Cregan to wipe away his tears before facing him with a sorrow that isn’t able to wipe off. “We need to go, my Lord. You’ll have to forgive us for not accompanying you back to Winterfell, but with our dragons here we need to make haste to return to Dragonstone.”

You grab at your chest and gently caress it as if that would cure you’re heartache while Jacaerys shares something you agree to without the need for a discussion.

Albeit Cregan is the one who protests. “It will get dark soon, why do you not wait until first light to take flight? Wait until you both have collected yourselves so you don't do anything rash in the heat of the moment.”

You shake your head and interject in a broken voice. “The storm won’t pass, Lord Stark. We’ll just face it head-on and leave, our mother needs us.”

Cregan steps forward, gaining a brief glance from you. “Just eat, and rest…I know the pain of losing a brother, I understand your grief, my heart is with you,” he tries to relate so you would listen. “I have lost many others too, I know the anger, please just let yourselves calm down before you return home. I will stay with you here.”

You know your brother too, you know how angry he can get. You know that once your grief really settles you’ll also start thinking of what happened and you’ll get upset too. Thus you don’t hurry to answer, you look at your brother and he looks at you. And without a word, you come to the same conclusion.

“All right,” Jacaerys says for the both of you. “We will stay, but leave at first light. Thank you, my Lord.”

——

*LATER*

Nothing makes sense.

Why? How?

Those questions are what runs around and around in your head accompanied by different terrifying scenarios that could’ve led to the act. A lot of it points to an accident, you want to believe in your heart of hearts that what…Aemond did was an accident. You don’t want to believe that this remorse got the best of him, he’s supposed to be better, he’s supposed to keep it in for your sake.

He knows how much you love your brothers, he knows he can hate them all he wants, but he can’t hurt them. And yes! You know that war was going to happen no matter what, and violence was going to be dragged in between your families, but Aemond went out of his way to…kill Lucerys when all he was was an envoy.

He killed your brother. Your husband killed your brother, and in turn, betrayed you in the worst way possible. He tore your heart out, and what hurts more is that he hasn’t said what he did in the multiple ravens he’s sent! Just like always, he never tells you a thing!

What are you supposed to believe, but the worst? You want to believe he’s good behind all that hard demeanor, you defend him against your family when they say something bad because you want to believe he has a good heart, but what does killing Lucerys prove? That you’ve been wrong all along?

Gods!

Damn it! Why did he have to do it? Why did he take Lucerys?

A knock raps on your door, but you’re so drowned in your heartache that you don’t hear the sound. It’s not until you hear your name being called out softly behind that door that you almost wake up from your stupor.

“It is I, Cregan,” he announces without the need to, you knew who he was the moment he uttered the first word. “Can I talk to you? You didn’t come for supper.”

You blink repeatedly to relieve the dry spell in your eyes after not blinking for a few seconds and clutch onto the ring you were fiddling with before you get up and unlock the door. You don’t proceed to say anything, you walk away from the door and stand against the fireplace, but Cregan takes the unlocked door as an invitation and walks in, finding your food untouched, you in your nightgown, and your head down.

“I came to check on you,” he says softly as if careful not to hurt you even more with his voice. When he gets no response or even a small breath, he walks in further and notices now how unkempt you are; you’re usually so precise with the way you keep yourself, you always look so clean and tidy, it was only in the morning when you first woke up that he would catch you off guard, but now it’s like you don’t care how you look.

“I hope you are not going to bed with your hair down like that,” he tries to be lighthearted. “You hate having your hair tangled in the morning.”

He waits for a reaction, a soft ‘oh’, but you stay quiet and it just deepens his concern.

“Darling,” he uses your pet name and you finally break from your stupor and turn partially to face him.

He expected a sweet look just out of instinct, but those usually wonder-filled eyes are clouded by agony and tears that can’t even fall down your cheeks anymore; while the fires fierce light brings clarity to your deep set frown, knitted brows, and puffy face worn out from crying.

“Here,” he breathes out and catches a gleam coming from in between your fingers. When he fills his curiosity he notices that the firelight is dancing on a sapphire ring you cannot stop fiddling with in between your fingers; a ring he had not seen you take off once since he saw you. Which must mean your husband gave it to you.

He doesn’t want to ask for many reasons, so he approaches you from behind and gently starts braiding your hair in silence you cannot seem to fill. It’s almost like there was no one inside your body, you were a hollow body left soulless.

“I understand why you locked your door,” he mentions in hopes that would get him a simple reaction. “However, it does not seem necessary, your dragons are restless and it stirs up fear in the brothers. And I am here as well.”

Your back raises as you draw in a deep breath, but rather than filling the silence with a dry response, or some remark, you just breathe out, making him steal a glance at the side of your face that he can see from behind you, before he pulls out the leather strip that keeps half of his hair out of his face to keep your own braid in place instead. He then proceeds to shuffle to your side to grab your arm.

“Sit down, Princess.” He commands softly.

You don’t fight him, you let him guide you down to your seat, and once he’s feeding the fire more wood your hoarse voice finally fills the room.

“I should have gone back to King's Landing…A��He sent me a raven the day after when my grandsire the King died. He didn’t tell me of course, but he told me to go back…I should have listened, I…” you pause to catch your breath. “Maybe then Lucerys…” you trail off and whimper whilst you drop your head in your hands.

Cregan leaves the last piece of wood in the fire and then wipes his hands on his shirt while he stands up to close the gap between you.

“Don't,” he says firmly and crouches down in front of you to grab your hands and pull them down so you can meet his gaze. “Do not blame yourself for your brother's death. What happened is not your fault to carry. What happened is dealt with, don’t dwell on things that can no longer happen.”

You hold his gaze while you process his words for a second and then look down at the ring you still hold.

“I’m sorry,” he says sorrowful words that bring your heart some comfort, but also make your body tremble while those tears that you once couldn’t muster, come rushing down your already stained cheeks.

Nothing else is spoken, and nothing is asked of either of you, but out of instinct your arms slip around his neck, and he returns the embrace and follows you to your feet where he keeps holding you and lets you cry on his shoulder; for hours? For a few seconds? You don’t know, you dwell in his comfort that you missed and relish in it until you stop crying.

He probably should have been the one to pull away, but he doesn’t complain, not once. He lets you pull back on your own time, and even then he grabs your arms to keep you close so he can cup your cheeks and caress them for a final piece of comfort to your aching heart.

Yet that proves to be a mistake because as you linger in his proximity, your eyes fall on his lips and you’re overwhelmed with a passion-filled heat that pushes your lips against his.

At first, Cregan is so stunned by the warmth of your lips on his, and then he’s taken by the excitement of feeling your lips reconnecting that he closes his eyes and kisses you back, but when his lust begins to rush through his blood he pulls back and groans.

“No,” he shakes his head and slides his hands down your face to grab your shoulders, leaving a burning trail down your skin. “You are married. No matter what happened you are still married, and you’re grieving.”

You want to forget your pain for a moment and be consumed by the comfort, bliss, and excitement he provides, but he’s also right. And how can you do that to Aemond…

But…

Maybe you don’t care if it hurts him because he hurt you. He won’t know either way—But you will know, you will know that it’s something that can hurt him, and you…don’t care. But Cregan…is right.

“I’m sorry,” you throw out and step away from him, feeling a chill hit those parts of you that he kept warm with his touch—“you are right. I’m sorry.”

Cregan turns away and swallows back thickly, feeling somewhat disappointed that he has to turn down this heat of the moment. “Perhaps I shall bid you a goodnight now.”

You swallow back to hide your disappointed sigh and nod. “Yes, goodnight Cregan.”

Said man avoids looking at you when he turns. It makes it easier to walk away from you. But when his hand touches the door handle he doesn’t turn it to open it, he stands there frozen with his back turned to you as he feels his honor start to slip.

He turns his head but doesn’t peek over right away, he fights himself but quickly falters when he feels the ghost of your wet lips haunting his. And when he fully looks back and sees the shadow of your sculpted figure in your white nightgown his inner battle is lost. He only proves his loss by locking the door and turning completely to face you, turning around as well.

“Cregan?” You query, puzzled by his presence.

Said man draws out a deep breath before he strides back to you with determination in his step and surprises you by grabbing your face the moment he can. You want to utter his name, but a small gasp is all that goes past your lips whilst you drop the ring that Aemond had gifted you.

“I pride myself in my honor,” he says while his eyes flicker between your parted lips and your shocked gaze. “But when it comes to you it’s turned to ash, nothing stops me from wanting you, from…” he trails off and leans forward, but you don’t allow your lips to touch. You shift your head away, but he follows you to keep your breaths unfurling over each other's lips.

“…desiring you in every way a gentleman shouldn’t. I burn for you when you’re far, and even when I dream of you. It is wrong.” He nods, and you nod too without much effort. “But you are my weakness, you have always been my weakness. You’re my joy, the reason I laugh, and also the reason I don’t march to King's Landing and bring you to Winterfell to make you mine,” he whispers against your lips, making a smile make an appearance on your saddened face.

“Tell me this is wrong, tell me to leave now,” he tells you and drags his eyes up to meet yours so you can know he’s being serious. “And I will. I will leave your chambers and when morning comes I’ll bid you farewell with no remorse and as nothing more than friends.”

As if being hypnotized to his lips you lean forward, but only let your lips brush, leaving your heart pounding as it screams for you to connect.

“I still have to leave,” you make it known while you gently cup his jaw to touch some part of him. “I have to return to Dragonstone no matter what.”

Cregan’s eyebrows pinch together and he hesitates before he nods. “I understand,” he mutters and glances at your lips again. “But that doesn’t change a thing if you tell me to leave.”

You should. You're still married even if Aemond betrayed you by killing your brother. And deep deep down a lot of your conflict comes because you don’t know if you did stop loving the man who killed your brother, but that reason is also why you want to give in to your deepest burning desire.

That reason is why you’re selfish and don’t resist Cregan or stop your heart from swooning at his confession.

“Don’t leave,” is all he needs to hear to smile widely before he finally feeds your desire by kissing you slowly, fueling that passionate heat that completely takes over your body, and leaving you still and breathless for a moment as you relish in the sweet taste of his soft lips melting with yours, guiding your every movement, and driving you mad with lust.

You had forgotten this dream-like feeling, you had forgotten how fast he makes your heart race when he’s kissing you, and you forgot how hot you burn when his fingers explore the perimeters of your body. Furthermore, you forgot how eager he can get until you feel his grip on the back of your gown.

You pull away quickly and protest. “No, no, wait, do not rip it.”

Cregan fingers loosen and you start to giggle. “Why do you always want to rip my gowns?” You bring up, making his lips lift to a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between heavy breaths.

You press a kiss on his lips and then tell him, “gently.”

He breathes out deeply and nods once before he slides his fingers back to the ribbon tying your gown together, and slowly begins to untie it while you drift your lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, and then kiss his jaw before you graze your lips up and kiss the corner of his jaw.

Cregan lets out a groan from the back of his throat, making you feel chills grow on your skin.

“I hate all these layers,” he musters while you continue to leave a trail of kisses down to his neck. “They are so infuriating.”

You smile against his neck, causing you to feel his nails dig in your skin.

“It keeps me warm,” you tell him and lick a stripe up to his lips. “Your North is cold, my Lord.”

Cregan clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “A little less with your presence,” he completely wins you over, making you grin and look at him in awe.

“I missed you,” he finally lets himself confess to you. “My darling love.”

You sigh and whisper back. “I missed you too.”

His eyes gleam brighter and that short absence is filled once again with your lips while he finally slips off your gown, leaving you under a simple sheer gown that he slips off with ease.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with awe, and his eyes dark with lust.

“It’s no fair,” you argue between kisses and slowly drag your hands down to help him pull off his layers. “And you say I wear a lot of layers,” you comment, making him scoff.

You finally end up pulling the last one off and throw it to the side mindlessly as you’re captivated by his toned torso and those thick arms that he unfairly hides under all those garments.

“Kiss me,” you command in a voice oozing with honey.

“Gladly,” is all he says before capturing your face to smash his lips on yours and this time make out more roughly as he’s filled with a much more hungry need.

Your own need lets you multitask by unbuckling his pants and tugging on them so he can pull them off in the brief pause you have between devouring each other. Yet when his member is out for you to see, you take a moment to admire how girthy and hard it is, and how perfect every vein is on his length.

You can’t help but start to go on your knees, but he grabs your bicep and pulls you back up to drift you away from that need.

“No,” he says out of breath and instead wraps his arms around you, and presses his lips on your neck to start leaving wet kisses on your flesh while he also slides his hands down your body, making you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands caressing you gently.

Without lifting his mouth off your neck he drifts his hand behind your knee, and with no explanation, he pulls your leg up to help you climb up and wrap your legs around his waist so he can walk you back to the edge of the bed, and gently put you down.

Once you’re lying on your back he pulls back but leans down to press his hands beside your head, and simply hold your gaze with this endearing look that makes his eyes smile.

“I'm going inside you,” he warns you, making you shiver and swallow thickly as you already imagine the stretch. “You need to be quiet.”

You part your lips but utter nothing, instead, you lift your head and he responds by giving you what you wanted, a deep kiss, while he grabs his length and aligns himself with your hole. When his tip touches you you gasp and he grins before taking your lips again to distract you while he slowly penetrates you.

Albeit the stretch is so wonderful and filling that you claw your nails on his back and scratch his back as he keeps going in deeper. Once all the way inside he finally pulls his face back to whisper. “You were made for me. You belong with me.”

You don’t respond with words, you cup his cheeks and brush strands of his hair behind his ears before you slide your hand to the back of his neck to gently pull him down. “Cregan make me yours,” you finally fill the silence, feeling as if his cock hardens even more before he finally starts moving his hips, filling you with a blinding ecstasy that heightens this passionate moment, and makes you only think about him and the pleasure he feels and gives you. You forget your sorrows and the grudge. You forget the war and the responsibilities you have.

You’re selfish in the lust-filled night and remain ignorant even before it's time to get out of bed. You just relish in Cregan's presence for a bit longer.

“Cregan…” you whisper, and the man hums in response letting you sigh before you share what’s been bothering you. “I do not like that I am the reason you disregard your honor. I do not like putting you through that.”

The hand on your back stops moving and a small huff rolls out of his nose. “I think it’s late to start thinking about that.”

You blink repeatedly with discontent and abruptly sit up to face him. “I am not jesting,” you press sharply. “I’m being serious. You hold your honor in high regard, I hate to be the one who makes it falter.”

A faint smile tugs on his lips without regard to your comment before he leans forward and assures you. “I have my honor, I never forget it, but I love you more. I’m being selfish without disregarding everything to be it. I know how to hold myself back,” he says firmly and cups your cheek to bring you closer to him. “I know where I stand, I am just choosing to have a taste of happiness. You, my darling, are my happiness.”

Your eyes water and your heart swoons, there’s nothing you can say that would measure up to the kind things he just said, all you can do is press a lingering kiss on his warm lips before you lay your head down on his chest, and hold onto him like he’s your security blanket.

“I…could offer you and your Aerion refuge here,” he offers and makes your pounding heart hurt.”

“Here? In Castle Black?” You tease without sounding too amused.

Cregan scoffs and starts to caress your arm. “Not here. In Winterfell,” he clarifies without a hint of falter at the mention of your son who is fathered by someone else who does bring him pangs of jealousy every time he remembers you’re married, and when he hears his name. “I would make sure no one could touch you and your boy there. He wouldn’t have to grow up around so much violence and you would not have to worry.”

You tilt your head down to kiss his shoulder before you give his offer an answer. “It's a nice offer, but my place is not hiding in a cage like some frightened bird. My place is out there, with my mother, with my brother, and the rest of my family fighting with the dragon I have. My mother needs me and I don’t want to leave her alone.”

Cregan doesn’t interject with anything, his chest rises and slowly falls back down, letting you know your response slightly wounded him.

“Instead of having her husband with her when she lost my sister,” you begin to say quieter but filled with frustration. “Daemon was out leading her council. I was the one who held her when she cradled my sister's lifeless body. I…have to be there for her now.”

“I understand,” he doesn’t falter to assure you. “But you must know if you ever find yourself needing somewhere to go, Winterfell is yours. You and your son are welcome.”

You lift your head off him to face him in the little space left between you. “I will always remember that. Thank you,” you say from the bottom of your heart.

A smile twitches on his serious face, and he proceeds to press a feathered kiss on your lips before he grins and says. “Sing for me? Just for me.”

You giggle and gently smack his shoulder. “No,” you answer bluntly and lay back down basically on him.

“Why not?” He chuckles. “It's not like you have to fear enchanting me with your song, you already have.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. Anyway!” You change the subject. “I was supposed to stop writing to you. I had already planned it.”

Cregan sighs and his chin rests on the top of your head. “I know,” he mutters. “You stopped writing as much as you would recently.”

Your smile falls but you grow desperate and hopeful. “But…you will answer me when I write to you in the weeks to come, right?”

He shrugs and interjects. “If that’s what you want, I will.”

You nod softly. “I do.”

You lift yourself up again to face him so he knows you’re being sincere. “I do.”

He grabs your cheek and his eyes soften. “Are you frightened?” He makes sure to ask.

You swallow thickly and shake your head. “No. Nervous, but not scared.”

He smirks and slides his hand down to caress your chin. “That’s my girl. You know how to fight, use that.” He tells you.

You laugh nervously. “I’ve never had to actually use my skill for violence.”

Your swordsmanship and your skills with archery were never for the intent of being some warrior, you like the idea of being like Queen Visenya Targaryen, and Princess Alyssa, but mostly your need to be trained with a sword and with archery was because you took it as a challenge. They said you couldn’t have it and you challenged them. Thus now that you’re having to face this war and the potential of having to use your skill, you’re honestly quite nervous.

You’ve never admitted that. You don’t want to admit it to anyone but him so they don't feel like you aren’t reliable.

“It won’t be easy,” Cregan says the truth. “But when you face your enemy, do not hesitate. Think quickly but be smart and do not let them gain the upper hand. You have a dragon, use her, and you have skill, good skill. Use it.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in comprehension. He offers you a gentle smile and pulls you down to press his forehead against yours.

“You must know I will wait for you. Just a while longer.”

Asking what will happen after a while passes scares you, so you leave it be and just give him an honest response. “If fate ends up letting me choose, I will finally come home to you.”

He flashes you a charming smile that eases that worry in your heart and only works to sink you further down into this little escape.

“Now,” he coos against your lips. “Will you sing for me?”

You roll your eyes with a flattered smile featured on your face before you pull away to lay back on his chest and finally do as he asks of you as a parting gift where there aren't multiple people watching you, and pushing you down to hide or pretend that you’re nothing more than friends. You sing him a song for only him to hear before you take your leave and face reality once again.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

What good is actually facing reality? Facing a dead beloved brother, and the fact that it was someone who you loved that killed him?

Dragonstone is a painful reminder of what happened while you were away. Only now that pain in your heart is tenfold and you don’t think anyone can actually know the pain that plagues you. Who can truly understand what it is you carry? No one is married to the man who killed Lucerys. They can hate him with ease, but you?

You want to despise him, you fought yourself the entire flight back to Dragonstone to hate him and view him as another enemy, to view him like you view Aegon, but as much as you think you hate him, your heart fights hard to try and tell a different tale. And that’s what makes it worse.

Thus it's easier, it was almost healing, having an escape with Cregan, but now there’s no one who will silence your cries. And what makes matters worse is facing your heartbroken mother. You don’t like seeing her cry or be hurt, when she lost Visenya your pain could never equate to what she was feeling, but you hurt too with every groan, with all the blood that she spilled, and every sob. Now you’re moments away from her and your heart and soul are already shattering.

However, after you watch your dragon disappear into the caves with Vermax, and take a step inside the castle, a hand wraps around your forearm and you’re pulled into a dark dead end where there aren't prying eyes or nearby ears.

“<Tell me the truth,” Jacaerys spats in a whisper so no one would hear the sound of his words also protected by High Valyrian. “About you and Lord Stark.>”

You can’t help yourself, you blink repeatedly in disbelief and gape like a fish out of water.

“< There's no point in lying,” he only further surprises you. “I figured it out when he got the letter from Dragonstone. I would see it every time you would talk but I never pieced it together until yesterday. It all made sense then, the glances, what you would tell each other, and every story you told about him.>”

Tears fill your eyes and your heart echos in your ears as you’re struck with shame. Not for loving another man, but that Jacaerys found out.

“<He touched you?>” He proceeds to ask in your shocked silence.

And it’s in that silence where he figures out your unspoken response and finally lets go of your arm to turn away with a scoff.

“<He never forced himself on me,” you defend Cregan. “Everything we did was because we wanted it to happen. We love each other.>”

Jacaerys turns on his heels with frustration and clutches onto your arms to sneer. “<You saw how much mother suffered because she was with Ser Harwin. Did you not learn anything?>”

You know he’s remarking all that stuff to your face because he cares. He’s being thoughtful in his way but it doesn’t stop you from crying, and when you shed tears you hit a cord in your brother's heart and he lets go of you with a sigh.

“<If you weren’t already married I would turn back and force him, but alas,>,” he mutters and sighs again before turning and dropping his head in his hands.

“<He would’ve too,” you defend his honor. “But I did not want Aemond to hurt him with Vhagar. I choose not to marry him, please don’t blame him. He’s a good man.>”

Jacaerys shakes his head in disappointment and turns to face you with his eyes narrowed into a fierce glare and his lips curled in a snarl. “How am I not supposed to blame him?” He remarks in the common tongue. “He had his way with you and did not do what he was supposed to do! What an honorable man would do!”

“I told you already, I told him not to because of Aemond.”

Jacaerys grabs his face and rubs the bridge of his nose, so you continue to try and calm him down.

“He was always respectful and kind. And…” you pause and lick your lips before you utter the reality. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. There's no use in being upset, I am married and that won’t change even if I love him unless Aemond dies. So please,” you plead softer and step towards him to grab his arm so he can face you. “Please Jace, keep it a secret. No one must know. It’s in the past. Please don’t tell a soul.”

Jacaerys eyes snap to you and he clenches his jaw as he looks at you thoughtfully for a few agonizing moments before he sighs and whispers. “Fine. I will not tell anyone only because there’s nothing I can do now.”

You sigh with relief and wipe away your tears before you offer him a thankful smile and a sweeter comment. “Thank you so much. Thank you, Jace, really. I love you.”

Jacaerys lets out a deep breath and his face slowly lets that frustration go, and instead slowly falls to express a soft sorrow. You slide your hand down his arm to cup his hand and slowly mirror that grief as you remember what you lost and that pain you both now harbor.

No matter how hard you wish, there’s nothing in this world that can change what happened, no one can bring back your fallen brother. And what’s even crueler is that no matter how hopeful you were for the news to be a lie, you’re home now and that hope lies with Lucerys.

You both come to the same realization and speechlessly exchange it, bringing you both into each other's embrace to cry now without care.

And deep down you both want to stay close in just the way you are so neither of you run the risk of losing each other the way you lost Lucerys. It’s a foolish thought, but it’s one brought by grief, and a new fear set in both of your hearts because no matter how much you love your little brothers, nothing can compare to the bond the three of you had. A bond that now consists of Jacaerys and you. Just him and you.

“Jacaerys,” your moment is interrupted by a feminine voice that also speaks your name but does not belong to your mother. And when you both break away and look over you see Baela stand at the end of the hall with her hands clasped together and a pitiful look in her eyes.

“Baela,” you greet and wipe your tears away while Jacaerys turns to wipe his own tears away.

“Welcome back home,” she speaks sweetly.

You offer her a thankful nod before you walk over to her and meet her halfway with an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

You nod and then interject. “Thank you.” You pull back and glance around in search of her twin. “Where’s Rhaena?”

Baela sighs. “In her chambers.”

You wished to greet her just as you returned home, but now you’ll have to speak to her after you speak with your mother.

“And what about…” you trail off and hesitate. “What about my mother?”

Baela glances behind you as Jacaerys approaches you and then gives you the answer you wanted. “I’ll take you to her.”

You offer her a thankful smile and watch her walk to Jacaerys to wrap her arms around him and offer him sweeter condolences. When the moment passes she guides you to your mother and your heart begins to pound, while your stomach twists and makes you feel almost nauseous at the anticipation. You already know you’re going to break even more, but there’s something about thinking about your mother being heartbroken that already tears you apart.

And maybe a part of it is because…it feels like you had a hand in her heartbreak because it was your husband who killed Lucerys.

It was not really you, you know that. You were oblivious to your husband's affairs, but no matter what anyone says, yes, that’s what is dwelling within, your guilt. It rattles you to the point you can’t be comfortable in your own skin.

As you get closer to your mother's quarters breathing gets hard once again, and your surroundings begin to dim, leaving only the narrow path ahead visible. You want to run away and not face the pain you’ll see. But when the doors to your mother's quarters open and you see her sitting across the fireplace, alone and in the dark, that panic settles as if she was the fresh air you needed to calm down, leaving you with the need to be embraced by her warmth and comfort, while also giving the same in return.

“Your Grace,” you greet her softly once Baela clears the room and leaves only you and your brother with your mother.

Your pounding heart starts racing once again, but it’s not out of fear, it’s racing out of a need to ease your pain, and the pain you clearly see on her delicate face. Yet you hold strong with tears stinging in your eyes already.

“Lady Jayne Arryn has pledged her support,” Jacaerys breaks the emotional silence to share the support you both gained when you were away on a mission. “…In exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale,” you hear the tear in your brother's voice, and when you glance over at him you see him fiddling with his hands while his eyes grow more and more teary, making your already weak hold, falter.

You still want to continue for him, but when you part your lips you can’t utter a word, it’s all lost in your grief that heightens the longer you watch your mother.

“And,” Jacaerys continues sounding even more brokenhearted by the second. “Lord Cregan Stark,” he pauses and takes a deep breath, but doesn’t seem to find the will to finish. He falls breathless and that wall he usually has up to be perceived as strong, and a protector crumbles, leaving him shaky.

You reach over to grab his hand while tears start to roll out of your eyes as you trail on for him. “…Lord Stark…promised 2000 men,” you manage to share with all the might you can muster.

Your mother doesn’t respond, she instead stands from her seat with her face contorting with grief and approaches the both of you, making you completely lose the faltering hold you had on your emotions.

However, when she’s close, Jacaerys reaches out first and she welcomes him in her arms. You want to do the same, you’ve been aching for it, but your guilt hits you and you stand there frozen with your head down.

“Mother,” you mewl with streams of tears. “I’m…sorry.”

Your mother pulls away from Jacaerys just slightly, leaving her arm around his neck to approach you and caress your cheek with no disdain in her eyes; nor does she look at you like you were the one at fault, her eyes are sad, but she expresses her reassurance before she slides her arm around your neck and pulls you in her gentle embrace and confirms that she doesn’t hate or blame you.

It’s such a relieving comfort that it works to lift some weight off your chest. Weight Cregan couldn’t ease when he talked to you.

Now you can ease in your mother's embrace without feeling like she hates you. Now you can caress her back without the fear of getting rejected.

Soon thereafter, neither Jacaerys nor you attempt to leave your mother's comfort. Nor does it feel like your mother wants either of you to pull away from her embrace that protects her two eldest from the cruel reality that took her third child.

You stay interlinked and weep on each other's shoulders until she pulls away to face you both.

“I have been waiting for your return to light…Lucerys pyre,” she shares. “Is it fine if we light it tonight? The sun is setting and the winds are calm.”

You and Jacaerys don’t find a reason to push the funeral back. You also know there are other matters to attend to that don't give you the luxury of sitting in your grief.

But, oh wouldn’t that be nice?

You don’t want to ignore what happened, no, that’s not what you want. You just want to take a moment to process what happened, and who did it, and tell yourself that you will no longer see your little brother Lucerys.

But no, war forces you to face reality and deal with your grief harshly on the same night you arrived from Winterfell, and at the same spot where your baby sister's funeral pyre was lit.

This time the crowd is smaller though, more intimate. Daemon isn’t even here, which isn’t surprising, but it is also disappointing that he can’t be at his wife’s side as she deals with the death of her son, and lights yet another funeral pyre. And what grows your hatred for him even more is that he can’t seem to be bothered to be a father to his daughter who just lost her betrothed. It’s a good thing Baela is at her side.

It’s also good that you can be with your family this time, dealing with your father's grief alone was devastating. There was no one besides your handmaiden Vanessa to hold your hand and embrace you when you wept. Comforting letters could never measure up to the comfort of your mother's arms or that of your siblings and your grandparents.

Now though, you stand amongst them around the fire that will burn away the only pieces you have of Lucerys, which are his things. There's not even bones to turn to ash, nothing was found of him but his cloak, and a part of his dragon's wing.

Thus Jacaerys steps up first and throws in a soft red blanket along with a piece of his clothes. Besides a few tears rolling down his face, he holds strong now, unlike before when he was in the privacy of just you and your mother, which is assuring. He definitely seems to comfort Joffrey, who throws a wooden horse in the fire, leaving you to step up next.

Yet when you step up and lift a small wooden ship you sob for the brother you’ll never be able to see grow into a man. You’ll never be able to see him marry, or see him command his fleets. You’ll never be able to watch him build a family of his own, nor will you be able to dance another song with him, he’ll be gone forever.

You throw away all those possibilities you’ll never get to see in the fire, and watch the flames eat away at the small wooden ship, and turn to ash everything you couldn’t watch your brother do.

Thick smoke rises, it infiltrates through your nose and stings your throat and eyes while also helping you realize something through the stinging pain, that being your hate for Aemond, your husband, and best friend. You were clouded with confusion before, you couldn’t let go, but you see it clearly now in the thick smoke, you hate him.

And it’s because of your realization that you don’t realize your mother is next to you until you catch her throwing in a piece of Lucery’s clothes with agony contorting her face and clouding her eyes. She lingers by the fire for a moment and you watch her shoulders shake before she steps back. You fall by her side and glance down at her empty hand before you reach over to grab it and once again be the comfort she needs in her moment of pain.

A need to go to Rhaena’s side does grow. You feel called to her side to comfort her, but once the fire starts to lose its power, and all the wooden logs turn black, you step away from your brother and mother's side, but come to a stop right away as you feel guilt again. Your mother might’ve speechlessly assured you, but Rhaena’s anger and grief is different, what if she does blame you for what Aemond did?

If you weren’t away you probably could’ve stopped Aemond, but you weren’t with him. What if she blames you for Aemond taking her betrothed?

You don’t want to be the source of more pain for your cousin, so out of fear and guilt, you don’t approach her. You avoid her and instead, let your grandfather give his condolences before embracing your grandmother.

“I heard the Queen made you her hand,” you interject and pull back to face her with a proud smile. “Congratulations, grandmother, I could think of no one more capable than you.”

Your grandmother caresses your face and offers you a sweet and thankful smile. “Thank you, my Sweet. How are you doing?” She asks with a concerned gaze.

You sigh. “I’m dealing with all my emotions, but I’m relieved that I at least don’t have to go through my grief alone this time,” you share, earning a faint smile.

“I was wondering…” you roll out hesitantly whilst you hook your arm around his to head back inside together. “…does anyone accompany you on your patrols?”

Without needing to hear the rest of what you wanted to ask, she figures out the direction you're taking this conversation.

“No,” your grandmother assures you.

“Oh, well I was wondering,” you finally get to your question. “If I could accompany you? The sea is large, together we could cover more ground. Besides,” you sweet talk her to persuade her. “Astraea is fast, and she’s grown large from her time at Winterfell. She’s good at sea. She likes to dive with me on her. And I am a good archer on Dragonback. We could help you.”

Your grandmother scoffs and flashes you a smile. “Well as much as I would like your help, we would have to ask the Queen first. Bring it up with her and if she accepts I would love to share patrol with you, it would relieve me of some work.”

You smile excitedly and nod eagerly. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll ask her at the next council meeting.”

Your grandmother offers you an encouraging smile and helps you feel some joy in the dark storm that casts over you.

Of course, no one or nothing brings you more joy than your little one, your beloved Aerion. When you see him fast asleep in his cradle your dim world lights up and you muster a happy grin.

As much as you want him to wake so he knows you’ve returned to him, you let him be and just crouch by the cradle to admire him as he sleeps.

You admire his cute round cheeks, his tiny little hands balled up to fists over his head, his thin eyelashes he got from his father, and those pink thin lips he also got from

Aemond. But most importantly you watch his chest carefully to make sure he’s breathing.

You could watch him sleep for hours on end and never tire. Especially because sometimes, just like now, you catch him smiling in his sleep and you just can’t help but swoon.

You always wondered what it is they dream about, fairytales mayhaps? Food? Their parents?

Does he dream about his father now that they’re apart? A father who loves him, and takes pride in his son? A father that you hate and…cheated on…

He killed your little brother, and you lay with Cregan because you wanted to, because you missed him, and you were upset and selfish, but now that you’re looking at your son sleeping away a different pang of guilt punctures your heart.

A guilt you shouldn’t feel, Aerion is young, he won't remember this conflict, but he will feel shame if he ever finds out you cheated on his father.

Yes, his father hurt you first, Aemond betrayed you first. He hurt you in one the worst ways possible! But…now…

Now you’re looking at Aerion and you think of how this could also hurt him. He’s young, a baby turning five months old soon, he won’t remember his life as an infant, but your secret won’t be forgotten, especially if in the future Cregan and you aren’t together.

It would hurt him so much if he ever found out. That’s what makes you cry with guilt. Not regret, you don’t regret your night with Cregan, he made you happy, but you do feel guilt and shame.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

Does Aemond’s crime justify what you did?

You can’t help but think of that, you can’t help but think of the hate you harbor, but you also can’t stop thinking about him. About the way his family doesn’t show him the affection you do. He protects them and takes care of them, but they will never return it in the same amount.

He’s probably lonely, and brooding. He’s probably silently just lurking in his brother's council, and breaking his fasts alone.

You always tried breaking fast and eating dinners together. He always smiled when he saw the way you were dressed, especially when you wore purple. He always gave you a kiss before you drifted apart for the day, and when you saw each other he kissed you with need as if you had gone years without seeing each other.

When night came, or when you found yourselves just in a calm moment, he let his guard down and let himself be vulnerable. You loved those moments the most because it felt as if only he and you existed in this world.

Actually, he treated you like you were the only person he has ever loved. You came first all the time, even before your son. Which is selfish, but you never minded because who could treat you the same?

Cregan’s people come first, the North comes first no matter what he says. That’s why he’s not marching over here to fight himself because other priorities come first, but with Aemond, he may have his goals and his pride, but you were never held lesser than something. His anger got in the way. It’s blinding but you understand why.

You understood at least…because the truth is you can’t defend him now…

He deserves his solitude. You hate him for taking Lucerys away. That much is true and you put that over everything.

“Princess,” Vanessa’s sweet voice cuts through the blowing breeze of the sea, making you pick your eyes off your son to look into the distance.

“Vanessa,” you entertain your handmaiden with what you know she’s leading up to.

“I was wondering,” she parts her lips, but before she can finish her thought the sound of your name coming from someone else’s lips interrupts the conversation. You look back and smile faintly when you see your grandfather Corlys.

“Grandfather,” you greet sweetly as you stand up to watch him approach you at shore.

“I’m surprised to see you out here so early,” he mentions, making you scoff softly and look down at Aerion watching your grandfather carefully.

“When I saw Aerion he was sleeping, so I wanted to make up for it and spend as much time as I can before I’m called away,” you tell him and study him, noticing he’s standing up a lot straighter than before, and still using a very nice wooden cane. “I wanted to apologize for not going to visit you when you were abed. I’m more than glad to see you up now and attending to your fleet.” You smile brightly and watch him get close to watch Aerion in your arms.

“It's quite all right,” he assures you and meets your gaze. “You are a dragon rider, and the Queen's daughter, there’s a lot to do. I'm happy to see you safely returned, I know Aerion has missed you.”

You glance at your son, and as if he knew you were admiring him he glances at you and smiles before laying his head on your shoulder.

“Rhaenys and I would take him on strolls when the day gave us time,” your grandfather catches you by surprise. “The poor lad would be cooped all day with your mother gone.”

Considering Aerion the son of Aemond, you didn’t think your grandparents, especially your grandfather would much care for your son, but hearing his report really brings a warmth to your heart.

“I noticed that young Aerion quite enjoys being by the water,” your grandfather adds, making you grin and nod.

“Yes, he loves it when the waves roll over his feet,” you share giddily and caress your son's head as you return your gaze to your grandfather. “And he gets lulled to sleep by the sound of crashing waves.”

“He’ll be a fine sailor in no time.”

You hum happily at your grandfather's comment and then watch him glance out at the never-ending sea before he sighs softly, and then looks back at you with a faint smile that lets you catch a look in his eye that makes you think he’s up to something.

“Why don’t you and Aerion accompany me to Driftmark? It’s still early, and you can come back by dragonback before you’re needed,” he suggests.

You have been meaning to keep your mind off all the racing thoughts that kept you up at night, and well, you are extremely curious. It’s not common for him to invite you to accompany him anywhere. That’s what your grandmother does.

“Vanessa,” you address your handmaiden, and give your grandfather an answer. “Return inside, if anyone asks for me tell them where I am and that I will return soon.”

Your handmaiden offers you a comprehensive nod and goes off to do as you asked, letting you walk with your grandfather toward his boat under the morning sky pampered with fluffy white clouds that make you feel a smidge of joy as certain memories infiltrate your mind.

“On nice days like these my father would take me sailing,” you muse with your grandfather. “I’m pretty sure the septa giving me lessons would despise when he would pull me from my lessons since I was a princess and had no business doing boy stuff, but,” you grin softly. “He was the prince consort, he did as he pleased and my mother never minded. Besides, I encouraged him,” you pause and feel your eyes begin to sting without much warning.

“He taught me a lot of ships…I miss him,” you finish in a whisper.

Your grandfather lets out a deep sigh and you see him nod along with you from the corner of your eye.

“Did he teach you how to read maps?” Your grandfather wonders.

You nod. “Yes, and star charts. I could learn more about those, but I could follow the stars North and to King’s Landing with no map. He…never tried to leave anything out, he was always so excited.”

Your grandfather hums and you glance over at him to address something else on your chest. “I’m glad you decided to side your fleet and Driftmark with my mother.”

His dark eyes meet yours and he quirks a brow. “Why would I side with Aegon?”

Well besides him being a man, there’s also the fact that it’s highly theorized Daemon killed his son. You believe and hate him for it, but no matter how much you want to share that belief, you bite your tongue and shrug as if it was just a concerned-filled thought.

Your grandfather understands your speechless response and holds your gaze as he gives his vague response. “I had many reasons to side with your mother.”

You offer him a simple proud smile and reach his boat in a peaceful silence only filled by the crashing waves and the cawing of seabirds. You had hoped to feel a hint of those exciting and tender feelings you oftentimes felt with your father when you were out at sea, but even if you walk with his father, those feelings you ache to reconnect to aren’t anywhere close, reminding you that you’ll never be with your father ever again, or have a bond with any father-figure.

Albeit your grandfather does let you sail the boat to Driftmark, but as excited you do feel to show off your skills and once again maneuver a boat, you still feel empty within.

“My dragon loves the sea,” you begin to say with the intention of persuading him to use your aid at sea whilst you keep an eye on the distant waters. “And I have learned how to use a bow and arrow on dragonback, perhaps I could be the dragon rider to protect your fleet when battle hits our shores, or we attack theirs,” you finish and peer back at him with a sly grin, unknowingly reminding him of his son when he was your age and eager to prove his worth. You even wore the same sly smile Laenor wore when he was proving himself a fine sailor and dragonrider.

“That…” he starts off quietly but then clears his throat and sounds as mighty as ever. “That would honor me.”

You offer him a happy smile over your shoulder and then let your gaze fall on Aerion strapped on your chest, noticing him watching the waves with his eyes wide and full of wonder.

However, the wonder slowly gets lost as he starts to get lulled to sleep. He tries to fight the sleep to keep watching the moving waves, but he’s outmatched and loses himself to sleep not long before you arrive at Driftmark’s shore.

Unlike Dragonstone, Driftmark is more lively with people; both townspeople and soldiers from the fleets as well as those who work on your grandfather's massive ship. Some seem worried that something could happen at any given moment, while others seem to be happy just mindlessly living.

You begin to wonder about that happiness, you don’t envy their joy, a part of you resents all these people being so happy and living their lives unaffected by the death of Driftmark’s Heir. You wonder why it is they don’t feel what you’re plagued with, you want them to feel your sorrow.

But then you do realize that you’re just letting your pain cloud your judgment.

“Besides having you accompany me,” your grandfather interjects, pulling your attention away from the large ship. “I wanted to share something I have been thinking of as of late.”

You clasp your hands together and out of instinct reach out to fiddle with the ring Aemond gave you, but you’re then surprised when you feel that your ringer finger is bare.

You spare a glance at your finger and drift your gaze to the ground, but you’re then reminded of the fact that you left your ring behind in your borrowed quarters at Castle Black.

You probably won’t ever see it again…

“…I was hoping that when Aerion is older he could be my ward,” your grandfather catches your attention and makes you furrow your eyebrows and look at him with disbelief, and slightly bothered.

“Of course,” he continues, “he won’t have to join me until he’s much older, but he is Laenor’s grandson, I want him to know the sea, and I want to teach him about ships and how to command fleets like I taught your father.”

You glance at your sleeping son and cradle the back of his head as if protecting him from being parted from you.

“He’s the son of a second son, he won’t inherit a crown or a castle from his father, but he could inherit…my title.”

You snap your eyes over to him and come to a slow stop as you’re overcome with surprise. You want to be filled with pride and joy, but there’s an obstacle that stops you. “But,” you mutter your thought out loud. “He is Aemond’s son. A man who opposes us. A man who killed your heir.”

Your grandfather turns away from his ship and faces you, and doesn’t fail to nod in agreement. “Aye, he is the son of Prince Aemond, but Aerion has salt-littered blood. He is the grandson of Laenor Velaryon, my son.”

Aerion is also your son, and you are also your father's firstborn, and only biological child, but he doesn’t seem to ever mention that! What are you, a painted portrait?

You would’ve loved to inherit Driftmark and his title of Lord of the Tides, but no!

You would ask about Rhaena getting that chance before Aerion since she is the daughter of his only daughter, but you don’t see that having a good answer, so you don’t even waste your breath.

“What of Joffrey?” You bring up. “He should be your heir.”

Your grandfather sighs and nods stiffly but quickly counters you. “Perhaps, but I want it to be Aerion. The grandson of my son.”

It’s not hard to realize the actual truth behind his response; Joffrey is the bastard son of your father. With Lucerys gone, he can actually name an actual Velaryon his heir. It doesn’t seem fair, your father loved your brothers whether they were his or not, but who are you to deny Aerion of a fruitful future?

He comes first now, and it doesn’t seem like your grandfather is actually asking your permission or for your actual thoughts, his mind seems mind up, so with a deep breath and a hesitant smile you accept what he brings up. “That…would make me happy. And I’m sure it would’ve made my father happy.”

Your grandfather offers you a smile and surprises you by patting your shoulder as an endearing gesture that brings a…silence where you smile faintly out of pride, but you can’t help but think what next. You’ve never actually spent so much time with your grandfather, and if you do your grandmother has always been with you.

“Why don’t you show your knowledge on the ship,” your grandfather luckily drifts the attention over.

However, just as you approach the plank resting on the dock, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder and interjecting loudly. “Alyn!”

You follow his gaze and blink repeatedly in surprise when you see the same Addam of Hull who fought in your engagement tourney.

When the man’s eyes fall on you beside your grandfather his lips part in surprise, but when he reaches you he closes his mouth and bows his head. “Princess,” he greets you properly right away.

“Ser,” you greet him quite excitedly.

“Good,” your grandfather cuts in and steps back. “You remember each other.”

You drift your gaze to your grandfather and express your confusion with knitted eyebrows that he helps ease with a quick response. “I sent him to check on you for me when I was fighting in the Step Stones.”

Instead of going to you himself?

Whatever.

“Really?” You ask with more surprise. “Well thank you, he was a very excellent jouster who brought Driftmark and me great pride.”

Alyn offers you a stiff smile and bows his head as a thank you.

“Good, I’m glad to hear he can’t show his skill,” your grandfather fills the man’s silence. “Why don’t I let you get reacquainted.”

Without room to argue he walks away and leaves you alone with Ser Alyn—or is it just Alyn since it was your grandfather who sent him?

“Seeing you again makes this world feel small. I never thought our paths would cross again,” you fill the silence to avoid awkward silences.

“In truth neither did I,” he admits. “But it is an honor.”

You offer him a smile and notice how much more muscular he is now compared to before. He’s also a lot more serious too.

“Who—”

“Alyn!”

You both turn your attention to the caller, and you see a tall and thin man with long dreadlocks approaching with a bright and charming grin that immediately works to intrigue you.

Albeit when he notices your unique white hair, your long and elegant red gown finer than any material he’s touched; accompanied with shiny gold jewelry on your hands and neck, he realizes that you are no ordinary woman. The man’s grin slowly disappears at the realization and he slows down towards Alyn. Once he’s finally nearby he straightens up and doesn’t fail to bow when he joins you and Alyn.

“My Princess,” the mystery man greets you with a nervous but charming smile that actually serves to completely get rid of any tension or awkward atmosphere he could’ve brought.

“Princess,” Alyn interjects and looks at the man in blue beside him. “This is my brother Addam. Addam, this is the Princess, granddaughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon.”

You and Addam meet each other's gaze and that snobby princess Addam already imagined you’d be upon laying eyes on you completely falls apart when you offer him a bright smile in return. You perhaps are one of the most majestic beauties he’s ever laid his eyes on, he can’t help but think. Even from afar you were luminous and almost like an illusion, but from up close he could see your beauty was no illusion, he could see a sadness in your eyes, but so much more that intrigued him.

You give him your name and Addam’s eyes proceed to fall on the sleeping infant strapped on your chest. “Who is this?”

You cradle your baby's head and introduce him to Addam and Alyn. “This is my son, Aerion Targaryen.”

“Hm, not one to care about first impressions I see,” Addam throws out boldly, making his brother shoot him a warning glare. You, however, laugh genuinely in return, which is something that surprises even you. You didn’t think you could ever laugh the way you just did again.

“He takes after his father,” you mirror his humor.

“Well, we’ll let this lad get away with it this time.”

You scoff and nod. “I’ll make sure he’s more prepared next time,” you remark lightheartedly.

He hums and glances over at his brother. “Could I ask how you met?”

“At a tourney,” you answer for Alyn. “Last year. Apparently, he was sent by my grandfather.”

“Tourney?” Addam asks as if it’s the first time hearing of it. “Aren’t you supposed to be a knight?”

“Actually I was trying to get to that too,” you share and both wait for a response from the serious man.

“Well I was surprised to see what money could buy,” he remarks. “I was deceitful when I entered. I am no knight.”

You hum and ease his growing worry right away by assuring him. “Well, I would say you were actually quite entertaining and impressive. You fought well and won.”

Addam pats his brother's back and whispers, “I’m proud of you.”

You watch Addam offer his brother a very faint smile and you can’t help but remember the grief you had pushed aside as you remember the brother you lost.

“I was hoping to have some early brunch with my brother,” Addam now directs at you. “But it seems insignificant now that you have graced us with your presence.”

You can't help but smile with amusement and feel slightly flattered. Addam is surely more outgoing than his brother in a way that doesn’t fail to catch your interest and actually helps bring attention to his fierce spirit that you can’t help but feel the need to get to know.

Actually meeting him makes you feel like you found something you had been in search of your whole life.

.

.

.

.

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A/N- romantic or platonic? (For those who have read moonlight before already know but please don’t spoil it for the rest heheh :)

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638

[damn-stark]

Chapter 9 Pure as The Driven Snow

Chapter 9 of Moonlight

A/N- We’re back with new chapters! I hope you guys like it. I got real nervous writing this. I don't know why! Also is it a sign that your dragon likes your lover more than your husband?

Warning- some swearing, talks of pregnancy, Angst!, fluff, hunting SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- After 1x10 & before 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”

“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”

“Oranges? They are good for a growing babe.”

You touch your 6-month-old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of a stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.

“How much?” You ask the vendor.

The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you Princess. 5 Silver dragons.”

You glance at Aemond, and he makes his hesitation known before handing you your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought to you right away, especially because you’re with child, but, being stuck in the same rooms all day is torture! You told him the baby and you would go mad while batting your eyelashes really sweetly and he hesitantly accepted without a fight.

“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”

The man shares a nervous laugh and takes the money, but holds your hand before he steps away and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”

You offer him a kind smile, and then gently pull away to pick the oranges, but he suddenly blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.”

He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you. Albeit before you can even reach for it, Ser Criston takes the box for you.

“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the street lively with people.

“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around you wouldn’t understand him.

You scoff softly and hook your arm around his. “In Winterfell, Lady Arra, and Lord Stark treated their people like they were friends and they got respect.” You sigh and shrug gently. “Of course, I know not everyone has good intentions, but Lord Stark taught me how to read people. I try to use his advice when talking to people here, it is why I know this guy was no trickster.”

Aemond hums in comprehension but doesn’t actually agree or take in what you said. You may be down amongst the people, but he’s in the clouds where he’s untouchable. The only thing that matters is your mention of Lord Stark.

“You and Lord Stark are close friends?”

You don’t remove your hand from his arm even if you’re tempted to, you don’t let your eyes flicker even if you have the burning need to look away to hide the truth. You keep the faint smile that decorates your features and keep looking around. “Well considering I lived in Winterfell for five years, yes, we are good friends. Or were.”

“You don’t write?” He probes and keeps his focus on you to try and watch for anything that might give you away. “You often get letters from Winterfell.”

There’s no excuse for a lingering silence, you can’t breathe a certain way because he’s paying close attention, so you turn your head to meet his gaze and share your rehearsed lie. “Sometimes, but I talk to someone else. A lady friend that lives in the castle. One of late Lady Arra’s friends.”

Aemond holds your gaze and tries to pick up on something just a hair out of place, but you keep composed well and he goes unaware once again, letting you let out a small breath and smile with relief.

“I won’t go poor by giving these people something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You return the subject to what you were previously talking about. “Besides I actually got a craving for oranges. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now that makes you giddy.

“Feel,” you beckon Aemond and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”

Aemond comes to a stop in the middle of the street and caresses your belly very gently, letting you watch his blue eye soften, and those thin lips show a faint smile.

And since it took him no time to show his affection or his bliss you can’t help but grin in awe before you slide his hand to the other side. “See?” You interject softly. “He wants oranges.”

A wider smile tugs on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street.

“You do not know that it is a boy,” he likes to remind you.

You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We will have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”

Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”

“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we will have, six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I will be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”

“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.

“You remember?” You probe.

A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”

“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.

You laugh softly and nod. “It still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”

“Yes,” he agrees with an obvious glee in his voice. “Maybe.”

You let out a content sigh and rest your head on his shoulder while you take in the stands you pass.

“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”

“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.

Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.

The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box from Ser Criston’s hold.

“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.”

You put the box down in front of him and offer him a smile before you move on. This time Aemond doesn’t remark on your actions—you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again so you wouldn’t wander off just as you approach the outer castle gates.

However, before you can cross the courtyard, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention. “Wish to know your future, my Princess?”

“Princess,” Ser Criston immediately interjects. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”

You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.

“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with beautiful and remarkable colored eyes cuts in. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.

You don’t read into it, or demand an explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”

You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.

The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

Your name passes Aemond’s lips, but you disregard his warning and the priestess tries to ease Aemond’s worry in your mother tongue. “<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the lips of pretenders,” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”

You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.

Kinvara turns and walks inside, speechlessly motioning you to follow, but before you can you face Aemond first. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.

Aemond shoots you a pointed glare and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. This is all fake. She will take your money.”

You pat his cheek and give him one last piece of reassurance. “She can try but she’ll never steal my riches,” you quip. “I’ll be fine, it’s just for fun.”

You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss his cheek before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.

“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.

“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”

You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand even if you should, and Kinvara doesn't make it any harder. She’s quick and doesn’t hesitate picking out a single thin needle before gently cupping your hand and poking the sharp end on the pad of your thumb.

When a scarlet drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to face the flames. After the single drop of blood falls in the flames she lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.

“You have fire-made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say bluntly.

You would’ve liked to be eased into it, but you’re no expert so you clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.

“You have salt-littered blood and a dragon-made soul that burns fiercely and passionately; she flies high within the clouds in search of something…” she lets the words slip out as if she was chanting a spell, and then meets your gaze across the flames.

You should be intimidated, but you’re just eager to know more.

“…three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Three soul made dragons…”

Three, huh?

“…and loyalty.”

It’s hard to piece anything together but you still can’t help but feel joy, and an overwhelming curiosity that pushes you to pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Three soul-made dragons? Does it mean I’ll have three kids?”

Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl, but you’ll have seven. The three I see will grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives.” She hums and blinks whilst her smile fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them and cast over them like shadows.”

Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her, fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.

The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”

How insightful.

“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your right was taken.”

You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you just feed one more piece of curiosity. “Could I read the flames as well?”

Kinvara moves back across the flames and points her chin to the fire, encouraging you to try and read what the flames could tell you.

“You might not see your own future, remember that. If you see anything it will only be glimpses,” she lets you know while you step forward and focus your eyes on the bright flames seeming to lure you in; but not like every other time before, this calling is different now, you don’t have the urge to touch the flames or bathe yourself in their fierce beauty.

What calls you now are whispers; unclear, but trying to make sense in their own way.

“Listen,” Kinvara says as if can read your mind. “And open your eyes.”

She can’t mean your actual eyes because those are already open, she must mean it metaphorically or whatever, and as difficult as it seems you draw out a deep breath and focus on nothing else but the dancing flames; you don’t let Aemond come to mind, nor do you think about what was told to you, you narrow your gaze slightly and watch in silence.

After a few moments, you start to grow irritated, but suddenly before that frustration breaks your focus you freeze and catch your breath when you see snow falling. It’s clear as day as if you’re living through what you see.

Something falls with the snow though, something thicker and different in color. It’s slightly intoxicating and brings a stench of fire and smoke with it.

You have the urge to dive deeper to figure out what you see, but the scene changes to more white plains covered in snow, ashes, and bones, and above it stands a woman with silver hair. She stands above it all while a winter storm descends upon her. You see her start to turn her head but before you can make out her face, fire is all you see.

“<A long winter.> Kinvara breaks the silence and pulls your attention back to her.

“<Yes,>” you respond in High Valyrian as it actually makes sense.

The priestess offers you a smile and walks to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you again.”

You’re left in so much disbelief that you don’t question what she means by “I’ll see you again.”, you bid her a farewell and return to Aemond.

“I was about to barge in there,” Aemond says in a rush.

You blink repeatedly and meet his gaze with your disbelief still clinging to your features. Aemond notices and grabs your shoulders.

“What is it? What did she do?” He hisses.

You draw out a deep breath and with that push away all your disbelief to not worry him over something that’s not clear.

“Nothing, she simply told me we’ll have seven kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.

Aemond scoffs in disbelief but he leaves it at that. Just as you do.

——

*NOW. WINTERFELL*

When you think of home, Aerion, your mother, and your brothers are what you picture in your mind. They are your home, it doesn’t matter the place, as long as they’re with you that’s what you call home.

But oftentimes, when the word home comes up, when you think about home sometimes you picture these tall grey walls, you see these snow-covered hills, the white skies that stretch for miles and bring icy winds and delicate and beautiful snow. You see grey eyes and a timid smile. You remember the warmth from all the fires lit all day and the warmth his body provides. You think of home and someone who isn’t your husband is all you see. You try to fight it, but your longing is stronger than your will.

Now as you stand in these snowy planes and feel this instant comfort fill your heart all you can think about is how dangerous it is.

You were too hasty to make your suggestion and climb your dragon. You’re only steps away and as heart racing as it is, you also can’t help but strain your heart with anxiety as well.

Letters are completely different than seeing face to face again than feeling his hand grab yours and feeling his lips brush your knuckles. Jacaerys is here but will that stop your deep desires? Will that stop him from being mad at you for being distant and not writing to him anymore? Will that stop that tension?

But why is it that a problem?! You’re married! And you love Aemond, he’s your home too; him and Aerion are your family. A family you built after being apart from your own, and even if you have this new strain, you still want to fix it, you still want to fight for Aemond and your family. You have to be strong for them. You can’t give in to what feels comfortable and what your heart might cry for. You have to be strong. You have to be friends and nothing more.

“It’s snowing,” Jacerys muses as he reaches for a snowflake. “I honestly thought there would be more.”

You glance at the open gates and already imagine him waiting in that courtyard in front of his staff, family, and friends. It’s impossible to ignore two dragons descending in front of your home after hearing about an impending war and a call for a declaration from the Greens.

“It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be down here,” Jacaerys adds to his rambling. “How did you ever do it?”

“Well we are in the North,” you mutter unaware of your tone.

“Oh, no need to get snippy, I know where we are,” your brother remarks.

You sigh and turn to him. “Sorry,” you admit. “It's just what if he says no? It’s almost winter, his people need him here. And what would he gain from supporting one or the other, he could just decide to remain neutral.”

Jacaerys leans forward and tries to be assertive. “He’ll gain the Queen's lifelong gratitude, and a chance to prove his loyalty…he’s a Stark, you know that, they take pride in their loyalty. I don’t see why he’ll turn us away. Do you?”

No, but that’s not really why you’re worried, in one form or the other you just needed to be assured.

“I see your point,” you tell him.

Jacaerys gaze lingers on you to be an assuring brother for a moment longer before it’s time to break away from your running thoughts and growing panic and face Cregan with your head held up high, and a fierce determination on your face.

Yet when you walk past those main gates, that fierce determination is met with inklings of worry. Your head is high, but it’s practiced, it’s years of practice, there's a tension on your shoulders, and your breathing is slightly hitched because of your racing heart making your lungs work overtime.

You try to show your confidence in your stride, you are the Queen's daughter after all, but the closer you get to that courtyard the more you hide behind Jacaerys, as if that will help you avoid anything you’re about to face.

If someone were to guess, they’d say it’s your first time here with the way you’re cowering behind your brother and letting him carry all the confidence and pride for you both, but it’s not. As you trail behind your brother, some people you pass by actually recognize you.

You are Winterfell's luminous sun after all, the warmth and light in the darkest winter storm and lightest snow days, capable of melting the most stubborn ice. To their Lord though you are much more and it’s been easy to notice since the moment your purple dragon was seen. You are the reason he smiles, and the sun that gleams in his grey eyes.

But like the sun you hide. You finally make it to the main courtyard but Jacaerys is the first one seen and almost the only one they can see. You don’t want to come out of hiding because you don’t want to see him.

Your heart is pumping so fast, and your hands are trembling. You can almost feel a tightness grab ahold of your chest.

“Jacaerys,” you call out in a quiet panic.

Said man turns and when he does he uses his whole body to move away from you, in that moment leaving a clear and open view of none other than Cregan Stark. There he stands, tall, proud, and mighty. Grey eyes bright and soft even against his hardened gaze. His pink lips form into the faintest smile that you notice right away because you can’t help it, everyone and everything disappears, leaving only him and you in the snow-covered courtyard.

Not even your initial panic exists anymore, it melts away, and your body eases with a simple look into his familiar eyes. Your once-racing heart slows down, but now flutters and skips a beat, and you can’t stop it. Just like he can’t help himself because here you are again, across from him with light snow perfectly raining over you, eyes so deep and captivating that he loses himself within with ease. Your face is basked by a gleam of light that makes you so much more divine, and a heartwarming smile decorates your perfectly sculpted lips.

Now he knows composure, he knows his place, but in this small escape where only you and him exist, it’s costing everything within him not to break away and capture your lips with his. He just wants to grab and kiss you, but your trance is broken by the sound of your name being announced followed by your house.

“…of House Velaryon, wife of Aemond Targaryen.” And then there's that ridiculous reminder that you are not his anymore.

Luckily that cruel reminder is not with you, instead, there’s another, smaller in stature, but still standing tall and mighty with gold dragon emblems on his belt and on his cloaks broach. He proudly wears the colors black and red which shows who he is without the need of an introduction.

“Prince Jacaerys, of house Velaryon,” the guard still announces the man you’re accompanied with.

“My Prince, my Princess,” Cregan speaks in that thick northern accent that makes your heart swoon. “Welcome to Winterfell.” He bows his head, and the crowd behind him mirrors him.

When he raises his head again and stands tall the first thing he does is meet your gaze. You should glance away and share why you’re here, but you part your lips and only a soft breath comes out as you hold his gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to have you back, Princess,” Cregan addresses you formally, hiding away the history you share. “The North has missed you.”

Your cheeks grow warm, and your lips form a flattered smile before you announce it. “You flatter me, My Lord. I have missed the North, and the snow as well.”

He huffs in amusement and spares a glance at the falling snow. “Well you’re lucky then, it just started to snow. It seems you brought a late summer snow with you.”

You share a breathless giggle, and his eyes share his awe.

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cuts in and reminds you he’s here too.

“Oh right,” you cut in and look at your brother, seeing his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you and then glances at Cregan. You ignore him and grab his arm to go on proudly. “Lord Stark, my brother, and my mother's heir, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You share what he was already told, but it feels right to introduce him yourself again. “Jacaerys, this is Lord Cregan Stark.”

“It's a pleasure, my prince, welcome to the North,” Cregan addresses him kindly, making you smile. “Your sister has told me many tales about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Your brother bows his head. “Likewise, my sister speaks fondly of her stay here too.”

Cregan glances at you and the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly.

“I do wish I was here under better circumstances to have some of that fun my sister always goes on about,” Jacaerys starts to get to the point, leaving no time to wander. But that’s good, you are here on business, you can’t forget that.

“But unfortunately we are here under orders of the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys proclaims, making the crowd murmur as the whispers they’ve heard are finally confirmed.

Cregan nods stiffly and glances back at his great hall just behind him. “I assumed so,” he says and looks back at Jacaerys and you. “Let’s go talk inside. I’m sure this change of weather is not so agreeable for southerners used to warm summers.”

Jacaerys scoffs softly and nods before he follows Cregan’s lead unaware of the fact that he’s leaving you behind as you’re stopped by some people in the crowd.

“Princess,” a thin middle-aged man who works inside the castle greets you and steals your attention.

“Good sir, John,” you greet him with a smile. “How is your daughter?” You ask as you remember how she had been when you left.

The man nods eagerly and smiles in return. “Very well, my princess. Healthy and strong. The gods let her survive her fever,” he shares and points behind you. You follow his line of gaze and see his daughter in a tall tower watching what you can only assume are the dragons in the distance.

“I told you she’s strong,” you tell him with genuine relief.

“Princess,” one of the cooks addresses you, making you turn to her and smile.

“Ms Maribell,” you turn your attention to her. “I’m glad to see you.”

“And you,” she returns sweetly. “I hear you have a son, where is he now? Why didn’t you bring him?”

You nod. “Yes,” you share excitedly and touch your chest. “Aerion. He’s four months old, but sadly I had to leave him behind with my mother, what I’m out here doing is no place for children I’m afraid. But I do want to bring him after these affairs are in order.”

“When you do, stop by here,” she suggests. “I’m sure he’ll love Winterfell as much as you did.”

You grin and nod, but before you can add more to your friendly conversation, your name cuts through the icy breeze. You look over and see your brother with a pressing look.

“My brother beckons me, I’ll see you all later,” you excuse yourself and offer them a small head bow before you stride to your brother and take his arm.

“<We are not here for a friendly visit,” he whispers sharply in High Valyrian. “I know your history here, but please stay focused.>”

You sigh and look ahead, catching Cregan’s vigilant gaze focused on you after he, unbeknownst to you, watched you interact with his people and treated them like they were your long-lost friends. It honestly fills his heart with a warmth that makes his grey eyes gleam with a joy that you easily notice against his nonchalant expression while he waits for you and your brother.

Since he so often wears a hardened expression on his face it’s hard to know what he feels, but after five years you learned how to read him like a soulmate reads its other half without a need for words. Yet you don't know the exact reason why he was so touched.

“Forgive our delay,” Jacaerys instantly brings up like a proper Prince. “My sister is easily distracted.”

Cregan lets you walk in the great hall first and once the doors close behind him he huffs and responds. “Yes, I remember, so do not worry, my Prince.”

You glance at your brother and pass him a teasing look. He meets your gaze and shoots you a warning glare before he brings you both to a stop just under Lord Stark’s throne.

“I hope the northern winds weren’t too harsh,” Cregan addresses while he walks to his chair.

“Well they were colder the closer we got to Winterfell, but they helped our dragons pick up speed to deliver this message from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys makes a quick workaround to why you’re here.

“Just last night I received an envoy from your uncle who calls himself King as well,” Cregan says as he takes the sealed scroll from Jacaerys.

“No, you got an envoy from a Usurper,” you immediately correct him. “The true ruler is the one the late King Viserys appointed as his heir, Queen Rhaenyra. That never changed nor was it his will for it to change after his death.”

Cregan glances at you and stares at you in silence for a moment as he processes your words before he finally opens the scroll and reads what was written.

“Your father bent the knee to Queen Rhaenyra when she was named heir, and swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession,” Jacaerys adds to the point to try and further convince Cregan. “Now Queen Rhaenyra’s throne was stolen and demands you follow your father's path and stand proudly in support of her rule and war if it arises.”

You have seen so little of your brother's political side since you were reunited, so now that you see it you can’t help but be in awe of the man standing tall beside you, proving himself a worthy heir.

“Your words move me,” Cregan finally interjects as he lowers the scroll to look at Jacaerys and you. “And your presence honors me. Winterfell is almost at the edge of the world, but you still came to deliver this in your mother's regard,” he says and makes some of that tension release from Jacaerys shoulders. “I know of my father's oath to your Queen. I also know how deep disloyalty cuts when it’s made by one’s own kin, your sister was here to witness my uncle usurping my rightful place as Lord…which is why I do not intend to break oath today. The North will not break oath today,” Cregan proclaims confidently and with no falter, relieving your brother of his worry, but not yours.

“But,” Cregan proves your worry worthwhile. “Winter is coming my Prince, my Princess. And these seem almost like family affairs. The Queen has my loyalty, but why should we support this war? My priorities are with my people and providing for them before Winter arrives.”

You and Jacaerys share a conflicted look, but neither of you are stuck on what to say, you're just debating who should speak in your defense. You with an advantage, or Jacaerys with a blunt but respectful tongue?

Honestly, you both probably have great points, but in your speechless exchange, Jacaerys trusts you.

“I understand,” you argue and step forward, gaining all of Cregan’s attention. “I have not lived a true winter, but I understand your hesitance, My Lord. I understand your people need you now more than ever, but the Greens have an advantage, that’s something we can admit, and they will not be afraid to use it against you, and your Queen. They already steal from her, will you stand to see them take more? Will you stand and see your people and lands burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as injustice is acted upon your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right, and for the greater or good of the North?”

Cregan shifts in his seat and keeps his hardened gaze on you for a long and tense silence. You could read what he might be thinking, but you look at your brother and fall back by his side to wait for a response.

“Your words move me,” Cregan interjects with a small huff. “And leave me a lot to think about. I hope you understand my choice will not be taken lightly, I must speak with my own people on these matters, just be assured that the North supports the rightful Queen.”

Cregan stands from his seat and Jacaerys steps forward to cut in. “How long will we have to wait?”

Cregan raises his chin. “Soon, I swear,” he promises. “As for now, you must be tired from your travel. Baths will be drawn in your quarters, and supper will be served shortly in this hall.”

You draw in a deep breath and much to your surprise you’re the one who grows impatient instead of Jacaerys. “Thank you, My Lord Stark,” you deadpan and bow your head.

Said man catches your tone before the change on your face, but says nothing on the matter. Instead, he walks down and points to the door that leads to your apartments.

Yet before you can make any attempt to walk out, the doors open and a servant carrying a dark-haired child walks in, and without as much as insight to clue you in, you know who the child is right away, you can see it in his familiar dark eyes, and that kind resting face.

“Oh gods,” you muse excitedly and lose all your annoyance in the blink of an eye. “Is this baby Rickon?” You direct at Cregan.

“Yes, this is my boy,” he assures you and you don’t wait for the wet nurse to come to you, you meet her halfway.

“Jacaerys,” you exclaim as you grab the child’s hand with a bright grin. “I helped deliver this child!” You squeal and turn back to the baby.

“I believe it,” your brother mutters.

“Hello little Lord,” you greet the baby a bit too excited. “Look at you, you look like your mother…May I?” You direct at the wet nurse, and she doesn’t hesitate to hand you the child who is a mirror of Arra.

“Hello,” you greet him again a lot softer this time since he looks at you puzzled. “I know you don’t remember me, but I remember you. How old are you now? 1?”

You don’t expect an answer, but the baby does. “Hello.”

You beam at him and caress his head while you share a happy look at Cregan. “I can’t believe it. Words truly aren’t enough, Rickon is so big. I’m so proud.”

“He would’ve been out to greet you but you caught him in his naptime,” he says and steps towards you but keeps his distance.

“He looks like his mother,” you tell him and look back at Rickon, catching him taking the pearls around your neck. “Ah, yes, nice huh?”

“Hello,” he says again, making you laugh and turn to start heading to your quarters with the others trailing behind you. “My Aerion likes my jewelry too,” you tell him. “But he likes to suck on it. You just like to look at it, hm?”

“I reckon this little lord is a lot kinder than your Aerion,” Jacaerys teases as he falls by your side.

You roll your eyes at your brother and reassure Rickon. “Don't listen to him. He’s just mad because Aerion can sense his impatience. He’s very sweet, and I’m sure when he’s older you’ll be great friends. I’ll make sure of it.”

The baby is unbothered by what you say, but you couldn’t be more happier than to see Cregan and your friend's child. He reminds you of Arra, and when you think of Arra you think of where you are, and when you think of where you are all you feel is that comfort embracing you harder, consuming you little by little.

Which is dangerous, you know. The longer you stay here the more you let yourself get consumed by what’s familiar and kind that the reality in the distance becomes easy to forget.

But you can’t. You can’t let yourself feel complete comfort or you’ll run the risk of falling into the temptation you long for the most. Thus when you finish your bath you don’t linger in your borrowed quarters, nor do you explore what you left behind out of curiosity to see what’s new, you act as if you’ll be leaving any minute and visit where Arra was put to rest.

Yet that temptation finds you there and puts it all at risk. You don’t know about his looming presence until you turn away from Arra’s tomb.

“Lord Stark,” you gasp.

Cregan bows his head. “Forgive me I did not mean to startle you, I did not want to interrupt your moment that's all.”

You laugh nervously and glance back at Arra’s tomb. “If I did not visit her while I was here she would haunt me.”

Cregan hums and you stop avoiding his gaze to look into his grey eyes.

You had hoped to contain yourself, but in the silence that falls as you just look at one another, you can’t contain your joy, it takes over you and before you know it you’re beaming like a shining sun and striding over to him.

Cregan gives in the moment you break and meets you halfway with a tight and warm embrace.

“I had come to terms with not seeing you again,” Cregan breaks the silence first as he holds onto you.

“Me too. I really did not think I would see you again,” you murmur excitedly and hold on for longer than either of you wanted to. You just can’t seem to let go even if there's a shared silence in which you keep in words that you both are aching to say and just add tension.

“I…I’m happy to see you again,” he says instead and pulls back to face you

“You grew out your hair,” you point out to change the subject. “You said long hair was for barbarians.”

Cregan chuckles, and you smirk. “Well, I thought I could try it out,” he says. “And it keeps my neck warm.”

You study his brown hair that falls just above his shoulders and let yourself have this one thing. “I like it. It suits you well.”

Cregan offers you a thankful nod and takes this time to study you closely again. “You seem happier this time around,” he points out.

You scoff. “What are you saying? Did I look miserable when I got here six years ago?” You tease lightheartedly.

Cregan nods. “Yes. You did. This time you look happy though.”

You sigh and glance at the exit as if you’d see your brother. “Yes, well my brother is here. As annoying as he can be, I am happy he came with me.”

“Mhm.”

You smile softly in response and to avoid staring too long into his eyes you start to walk out. But for a few seconds as you walk aimlessly there’s a silence that lingers until he finds what to say. “Arra’s friend came to see me a few days after you left.”

You glance at him with a curious gaze and probe. “Why?”

He exhales deeply and confides in you what he hasn't had the heart to share in letters. “She came to blame me for her death. She said I was the reason she died.”

You come to an immediate halt, and he follows suit and slowly turns to face your sorrowful face.

“She was hurt, Cregan. It was not your fault. She was just grieving,” you try to comfort him even if he didn’t ask for it because you know how much guilt he already carries for Arra’s death and because you can't stand hearing him blame himself.

“Well, there is some truth to it is there not?” He says breathily and averts his gaze.

You draw in a deep breath and reach out, but before you can touch his arm you clasp your hands and fiddle with your ring. “No. There is not,” you say firmly. “Childbirth is not easy. I hate to admit it but her loss is common. It cannot be helped, so no it is not your fault. Arra’s friend was just grieving the woman she loved.”

Cregan blinks and meets your gaze with gratitude behind his perked lips but hesitation in his grey eyes. You don’t think he’s going to say anything and leave it as him just processing what you said, but as you continue walking side by side he finally interjects hesitantly.

“Your son…how is he?” He asks as if it pains him to actually ask.

You smile proudly. “Good. Spoiled endlessly by all the love my mother is giving him, but he’s good,” you muse. “I wish you could have met him.”

Cregan swallows thickly and finds it in himself to speak. “I wish I could have seen him too, I am sure he looks like you.”

You meet his gaze briefly and nod with glee.

There's so much you can say at this moment, but there’s also so much you can’t say that you end up in this battle of not knowing what you should do. Should you touch into this past that you need to keep closed? Or leave it all unspoken and just filled with tension that threatens to overflow and break you both?

No one would have to know. You could speak about this unspoken past you both cherish…But! Then you think of Aerion, and when you think of your son, you think of his father and once again, you still want to fight for this relationship even if you stand on opposite sides now.

Thus you leave it untouched and just lean towards something else.

However, when you speak Cregan’s name to address something else he also speaks your name, leaving you at a crossroads he luckily lets you cross first. “About why I came—”

“Did you come to sweet talk me, princess?” He cuts in and does assume right, but that’s not what you’re going to say.

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly and exhale deeply to get at what you want to say. “But look, I understand you’re needed here, your people are your priority. Winter is dangerous, which is why we won’t ask for a lot. We’re proud and honored to get your loyalty, but anything you can spare will help. We may have more dragons, but they lack experience in war, unlike Vhagar.”

Cregan nods in comprehension and does assure you honestly. “I meant when I said I’ll try. I want to help the Queen, I swear. Let me just see what I can spare, winter is not friendly, winter is cruel, you know that.”

More than most…and more than he knows…

“I know.” You agree softly. “How long will that take?”

He sighs and shrugs. “A couple of days. Not long. Why are you in a hurry?”

You drag your gaze over to pass him a knowing glance because he knows that your presence means much more than anyone knows, and it brings risks.

Still, he smirks faintly at you.

“I will say,” you admit and smile at him. “I am glad to be back in the North. I missed it. It’s so loud in Kings Landing compared to here. And the view from my chambers?!” You exclaim without a care in the world. “Over there it’s busy streets, and here it’s serene hills.”

Cregan chuckles softly. “I told you there’s no place for you so far South anymore. You bring your son here and it is over for you.”

You laugh and nod. “I do love the sun though, and a sea in which I can swim in!” You nudge his arm, and he leans to the side with a smile.

“I will bring the warm sea here, I told you.”

You snort and shake your head. “While I'm here we need to show Jacaerys some of the fun we would have. I want him to see some part of Winterfell before we leave.”

Of course, Cregan doesn’t argue, he gives in but when he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes he grows sweet and smug. “Not all the fun though?”

You hold his gaze and shake your head. “No. Not all the fun.”

He hums and looks at you with a dangerous longing look that you quickly look away from.

“Ice fishing?” You suggest.

“You have an entire day to waste?” He brings up and clears his throat.

You hum in agreement and stroke your chin, unaware of the fact that you’re being walked into the great hall.

“Owl hunting?” Cregan teases in that stern nonchalance, and you can’t help but burst out laughing as you remember what he means by that.

“You think you’re funny huh?”

“You just laughed.”

You shake your head and grab his arm to laugh more and much harder.

“I can’t believe you fell for it the first time.” He keeps taunting you.

You stand tall and throw out an excuse. “I was young.”

Cregan looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you look at him and laugh again, unaware of how lost you were until you hear your brother.

“Sister. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

You blink repeatedly and catch your breath before you point back at where you came from. “I visited a friend, Arra, remember? I needed to go visit her resting place before we left.”

Your whereabouts don’t really matter anymore, he was worried when he knocked on your door and you didn’t answer, but now what he finds more interesting is who you walk in with. He looks between the both of you full of curiosity and takes note of the way you walked in laughing, as well as the smile you wear, and the faint one that decorates the Lord's lips.

“I hope you are both hungry,” Cregan interjects while you come to a stop in front of the grand table. “We had something prepared for your welcome.”

“That’s nice—”

“We’re starving,” you cut your brother off bluntly and make your way around the table. “Flying for so long isn’t only draining for our dragons, but for us too.”

You approach Jacaerys and he surprises you by pulling a chair out for you. “Oh,” you praise his gesture. “Thank you, Jace.”

When you sit though he doesn’t walk around Cregan's seat like he should have, he makes sure to sit at your other side, leaving you in between both men.

“<What are you doing?>” You demand to know in High Valyrian.

Jacaerys pulls in his chair close to the table and looks at you to whisper back. “<Sitting.>”

You blink and lean your head back with a teasing smile playing on your lips. “<Are you nervous?>”

He squints and rebuttals immediately. “<What? Why should I be?>”

You’re choosing to be too naive and pat his shoulder. “<Your big sister is here do not worry.>”

He swats your hand away, and you steal a glance over at Cregan taking his seat beside you

“How many days do you have to be here before your husband sends you a raven?” Jacaerys fills the silence.

At first, you don’t want to entertain his question, he’s only going to make fun of Aemond, but you give him an assumption to be nice. “Three days. The last thing he wrote was, ‘come home now. Your place is here.’ And that was before we left the Eyrie.”

Jacaerys leans in and continues. “Has he actually written that he misses you?”

You hold his gaze and part your lips to argue in your husband's defense, but those words have not been written on paper so you don't rebuttal Jacaerys, you deflect. “Have you tried to make a move on Baela?”

Jacaerys clenches his jaw and speaks through gritted teeth. “What are you on about?”

You grab the cup in front of you and shrug. “What? She is your betrothed, it's okay to sneak off and you know, have a little fun.”

“Stop it.”

You take a sip of your drink and lean towards him. “When we get home I will play a game and lock you both in a room—oh! No! I’m brilliant!” You exclaim and push yourself back, making him grimace.

“Shut up.”

“Nothing boosts romance more than a fun little adventure, just you and her alone,” you share excitedly without shame that you’re talking to your brother about romance as if he were a lady. The gods didn’t give you sisters, just five brothers, so you have to make the best of what you have. “I will throw you out of the castle to go fetch dragon eggs, or you know, something fun.”

“You’re childish,” he snaps at you under his breath.

You exhale deeply and sit back proudly. “And when your wedding comes I will be paralyzed with joy. Unless she marries one of our Velaryon cousins,” you finish in a whisper to just light a small fire under his ass.

“What?” Jacaerys asks in a shocked whisper, which you ignore to share an amused smile with Cregan.

“Princess,” you hear someone call before you see Lady Maribell approaching with servants carrying supper. “We made your favorite to welcome you and the Prince.”

You watch your plate get put down with a big appetite and then look at Lady Maribell and touch your chest. “Thank you, ma’am, I’ll make sure to savor it well.”

The lady bows her head and leaves the hall, letting you appreciate your supper and the fact that these people took the time to prepare your favorite meal by their own will, or for the wishes of someone else, you don’t know, but it’s a huge difference with the way you get treated in the Red Keep.

“I would like to make a toast,” Cregan’s voice booms throughout the hall as he stands up, pulling the attention of those gathered in the hall. “To the Prince and Princess. Welcome to Winterfell, you honor not only me but the entire North for coming in person in the Queen's regard…”

You smile up at Cregan before you share your joy with Jacaerys.

“Your stay will not be long, but we will do our best to make you feel at home,” Cregan continues before he looks over Jacaerys. “The North may be a drastic change, but it is beautiful. I hope you learn to grow fond of it just as much as your sister has.”

You don’t check Jacaerys reaction, you meet Cregan's gaze and follow him all the way down to his seat with a soft appreciative smile, while his own gaze softens…for a moment, because his gaze then drifts over your shoulder and it loses that gentle touch.

You follow his line of gaze and meet your brother's thankful but slightly narrowed look that he holds with a smile. And as to not make suspect something you raise your cup to him.

He returns the gesture before looking past you again, making you now look at your steaming food and let out a slow deep breath as you try to remind yourself to keep yourself contained. In doing so, albeit you remember the tragic dinner you had at King's Landing not many nights ago and you now start to feel amused by the memory.

You happen to let your gaze wander over to your brother in the midst, and he slowly locks eyes with you. Silence follows for a moment, but then as if mentally tangled with your thoughts you both start to giggle before you chuckle together.

“Man,” he says between laughs. “I wish I would have seen your right hook. I missed it!”

You cover your mouth and stifle the laugh you want to let out and respond. “He was so shocked! I was holding that in for so long!”

You snort and lean towards each other. “It was such a mess from the start, but I applaud your toast. That was smooth.”

“Really? Thank you, I think I landed it too.” He takes your compliment and you both laugh together again before he grabs your shoulder and turns you towards the man at your other side.

“Lord Stark,” he happily drags Cregan into the conversation. “Considering you are friends with my sister, I will tell you a great feat she completed a few nights ago on our last night at Kings Landing.”

You shake your head lightheartedly and lick your lips as you catch your breath.

“To make this story short, one thing led to another and my sister landed a right hook on the usurper,” Jacaerys shares, making the corner of Cregan's lips twitch.

“He slammed our brother's face into the table,” you try to give reason to your actions. “I acted. My rings helped too.”

Jacaerys laughs softly and you meet his gaze and smile wide.

“It seems like an impressive feat indeed,” Cregan says and lets his gaze linger on you. “But I cannot say it surprises me, your sister has never been one to recoil from such things. I’d say she's fond of it.”

“Too much,” Jacaerys remarks. “It is why she would always get in trouble.”

Cregan huffs softly and meets your gaze. “I only wish I could have seen it,” he says directly at you while also letting your brother hear.

You can’t help your deep breath, or stop your face from burning under his impressed gaze. You don't say anything but luckily that conversation leads to a lighthearted dinner where Jacaerys and Cregan start to talk more instead of just passing glances.

Unfortunately, you do the one thing you told yourself you didn’t want to do, and that’s losing yourself in the bliss that comes with interacting with your brother and Cregan, the man you…have a secret past with.

You thought you could do better, you wanted not to get lost at all, but it pulled you down rather quickly and you couldn’t fight it. Especially because there’s something about seeing Cregan interact with your brother without tension or disdain, that makes your heart swoon.

“Jacaerys,” you blurt and turn to him. “Let’s dance.”

His eyebrows pinch together and he shakes his head before he answers. “What? No!”

You ignore him and jump from your seat to grab his arm and pull him with you to the center without as much as a protest. He likes to act all tough and nonchalant in front of others but he’s a big sweetheart when it comes to you and your brothers.

And he proves that further when he doesn’t fail to make you smile when you’re dancing slowly at first to follow the beat of the music that plays in the corner. When the music picks up he becomes faster but disregards the actual beat to start spinning you around the room.

“That’s not how you dance this!” You remark without much meaning behind your words. “You’re going to get me drunk!”

“You can handle it. You love it!” He assumes right and goes faster around the room without that initial worry of being judged or carrying this tough and proper image.

Neither of you actually find a worry in the world, it’s just him and you in that moment, laughing, and unaware of the pair of grey eyes that follow you all around the room. People talk to him, and a commotion surrounds him but Cregan finds a way to keep watching you laugh with your brother as he takes you around the room.

He should feel somewhat upset that your brother is bringing this different kind of joy out of you that he never saw when it was just you and him, but his heart only fills with bliss as he sees you so overjoyed. He knew how much you missed your family when you were living in Winterfell, so how can he be upset and petty that you’re so drunk with bliss by your brother's company?

Only a fool would refuse you this joy.

“Princess!”

You come to a quick halt and give your attention to the one who seeks it; catching Ser Rolf, one of your greatest friends just past the door.

“Ser Rolf!” You greet once you know who has beckoned you, and let your brother go to rush to your friend.

“I heard you were here and I came as fast as I could,” he says and answers your curiosity as to where he’s been before you had the chance to ask. “I almost feared I missed you.”

You shake your head. “No, you got lucky. Come!” You pull him with you to return to your brother. “Ser Rolf, this is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.” You immediately introduce them.

“My Prince,” Ser Rolf greets him properly.

“Jace, this is one of my greatest friends from here, Ser Rolf,” you explain. “He went to my engagement tourney and played in my honor.”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “Well, I needed to show off my skills, and not let you Southerners forget how talented we can be.”

You smile at him and you both purposely leave out the other reason why he had gone.

“It's nice to finally meet you,” Ser Rolf directs at your brother. “Your sister often spoke fondly of you and the rest of your family.”

“Did she?” Jacaerys presses and flashes you a smug smirk. “When we return to our brothers I’m proudly going to use that over her head.”

Ser Rolf laughs and nudges you, and you roll your eyes.

“Do you mind if I steal your sister from you, My Prince?” Ser Rolf asks.

Said man shakes his head. “Not at all, go ahead, I need to step out anyway. I will be back.”

You offer him a comprehensive smile and watch him leave the hall before you face your friend. “Are you going to dance with me?”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “No. Unless it’s a command.”

You smile in amusement and shake your head. “Never to you.”

“Good, I may be swift with a sword, but I'm afraid I'm not a gifted dancer. My wife can attest to that,” he breathes out and points his hand away from the crowd of people dancing to walk away together.

“How is your family?” You ask.

Your friend looks at you and smiles sweetly for the first time tonight. “Good. My girl is a year old and a delight. You have a son, I heard.”

You clasp your hands together and nod. “Yes, Aerion. He’s four months old, and his father's pride.” You share now that you can share it with someone since so many details about your son felt wrong being shared with Cregan.

“About…the father,” Ser Rolf picks on that matter as he sits around the first table you see. “I hope my actions in that tournament did not get you in trouble. I saw him later that night at a feast after the tournament was over.”

You sit down first and sigh before you shake your head. “No. Do not worry…was he…” you trail off and glance at the ring Aemond gave you to fiddle with it. “…with anyone?”

You can feel Ser Rolf press his gaze on you, but you avoid it and wait, even if you shouldn’t considering who’s occupying your mind now too.

“No,” Ser Rolf answers hesitantly, making your heart skip a beat. “He was lurking in the corner watching over the other silver-haired Prince.”

You swallow back nervously and meet your friend's gaze to press him since he didn’t sound convincing. “Tell me, Rolf. I can take the truth. I mean look at me, I’m on opposite sides of this war.”

Ser Rolf quickly shakes his head and looks at you with a pitiful look. “I swear it, Princess. He was lurking the entire night. When his brother brought in women and tried to gift him one as an engagement present, he finally left.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod in comprehension, feeling a lot more assured now than before. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Of course.”

You feel it now…how much you’re starting to miss Aemond. Which is all so conflicting, but you admit it, you miss your husband, especially when it’s just you and him. That’s when he lets his guard down and lets out this person he keeps within; this sweet, affectionate, and amusing person that knows how to love you in the way you want to be loved, and knows the deepest parts of you, while he lets you know his.

He doesn’t hide his love for you in public, he's not overly affectionate but he makes it known that you’re all his and he’s all yours. And perhaps that makes you a little too attached to one another, but you take pride in it and never feel alone.

But…

Yes, there’s a but when you’re in Winterfell, when Cregan is close, and when he comes to mind. You can’t let Cregan go. The love you shared was so consuming, it was full of passion, it was exciting, and it had so much to give that no matter what, you could never get enough of one another.

But that's it isn't it? Was. You need to let go.

“How are you…holding up?” Ser Rolf breaks you from your troubled mind and only makes you confused. “With…you know…” he trails off and points to the side.

You follow his line of gaze and realize that he’s referring to Cregan.

“Rolf,” you warn him, making him laugh.

“He’s finally smiling,” he makes matters worse and makes you smile down at the table while your stupid heart skips a beat.

“He hasn’t been with anyone,” Ser Rolf clarifies and you snap your eyes at him and kick his shin.

“Stop.”

Rolf smirks and rubs his wounded area, while your eyes wander to the man you’re talking about, and you see him leaving the hall.

You almost find it in you to follow him out, but what will that bring? Nothing but temptation. You did good before when it was just him and you, but the stars are out, and the snow blankets the ground, it will feel like one of those nights when you would admire the sky in each other's embrace, and you’ll probably lose it, so you stay put and keep talking to your friend while also watching for your brother.

Eventually, more of Cregan's friends join Ser Rolf and you, but as much as you enjoy their company you can’t rest easy without knowing about your brother. He left a while ago and hasn’t returned. He would’ve told you if he went to bed, but he hasn’t. He said he needed to step out and hasn’t returned.

Maybe he froze out there since all he’s used to is a chill—but more seriously you should go check on him.

You stand up and just as you’re going to excuse yourself you catch your brother walking inside in front of Cregan.

They approach the table and you want to ask about your brother's whereabouts, but Cregan interjects. “I've decided we could take him hunting tomorrow morning and have lunch there, so he can know some of the North’s wilderness.”

You look at your brother and he gives you an assuring nod. And considering Cregan hasn’t given you an answer you have no choice but to accept. “Very well then.”

“I might’ve overshared with your brother just now,” Cregan continues to direct at you as you step back and sit back down.

“No, no,” Jacaerys shakes his head. “He glorified.”

You cross your leg over the other and press them. “What?”

Cregan glances at your brother and then looks back at you. “I might have praised your archery skills on dragonback.”

You smile at Cregan and pass your brother a cocky look. “It’s true. I am an excellent shot on Dragonback, but I cannot take all the credit, Astraea helps me when she flies. I think Lord Stark is just too in awe of the dragon itself.”

Cregan huffs and points his chin at you. “You are being too humble. You deserve the praise, not anyone can hit the target while moving, especially while flying. And you like to stand, which, that alone deserves its own praise.”

You shake your head. “You flatter me too much.”

“But I do suppose the same cannot be said about your traps. She almost caught her own leg once,” he shares a bit too amused. “Arra caught her in time.”

You shake your head. “It was not my fault,” you rebuttal. “You were distracting me. Hunting is done in silence and you distracted me.”

Cregan scoffs. “Are we talking about the same day?” He teases. “You are remembering wrong. I did not do such a thing.”

You touch your chest and slowly get up. “Lord Stark, are you calling me a liar?”

He shakes his head. “Admit it, you could have used help.”

You inhale deeply and nod. “Only if you admit you spoiled our bait for that fishing evening on your name day.”

Cregan parts his lips but he can’t deny you so he presses his lips together and nods slowly, causing you to nod in return, and share a mutual agreement to your questions through shared glances that you don’t break. There in the middle of your friends and brother, you look at each other as if it’s only you and him in that hall, in this world entirely. You exist only for each other.

Until the reminder tears it all down and pulls you back into reality. “Sister why don’t you sing us a song,” Jacaerys exposes you.

“What?” You gasp and ignore all the looks you get.

Jacaerys nods. “It seems fitting. It’s still early, I think it would be nice for you to fill the hall with your song.”

You blink repeatedly and shake your head quickly hoping he’ll get the hint, but he does the opposite as if purposely torturing you. “Wait…you have not sung here?”

You stay quiet and spare a glance at Cregan who is too amused by what’s going on.

“Wow…” Jacaerys trails off to chuckle before he faces the crowd of your friends and Cregan. “That is why she is called the Siren of Driftmark.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and groan.

“I thought you said it was because you were a good swimmer,” Ser Rolf points out.

You shake your head. “No,” you grumble.

Jacaerys moves over to you to grab your shoulder and shake you gently. “She’s really good. She sings all the time,” he praises you. “She just sang the other day when we got to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head and feign a smile. “No, no, my brother is being too nice. He’s exaggerating.” You laugh and then turn to your brother to shoot him a burning glare. “You’re exaggerating,” you sneer at him through gritted teeth.

Jacaerys chuckles and pushes you forward. “Sing us a song. Come on!”

You share a breathless chuckle and turn on your heels to point back at your brother. “I would not want you to cry,” you reveal and glance at the crowd. “When he was a boy he would hide at the back of the crowd so no one would see him cry when I sang.”

Jacaerys doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being flustered, he just smiles, and Cregan steps in.

“Come on, prove your name, princess.”

You pass him a glare and sigh deeply.

“Just one,” Cregan insists with a sweet and intrigued look that really makes it hard to say no to.

“Fine…” you give him brugrudgly. “But…I’ll sing a Sea Shanty. One father liked to sing with us, Jacaerys, so you can sing with me.” You smirk.

Your brother is quick though and shakes his head. “No, no, anyone happy enough can sing a Sea Shanty. Sing a different song.”

“You’ll be surprised not everyone can,” you murmur and stare at your brother with a piercing glare but don’t argue now. You’ll get nowhere, so you begin to step away from the crowd. “Only if you do it,” you protest and turn back to your brother.

“No,” he snaps.

“Do what?” Ser Rolf probes.

You grab your brother's arm and he gives your friend the answer. “Our father would present her to the crowd as if she was a famous singer before she sang.”

You nod eagerly and shake him, but he shakes his head to deny you of such a pleasure.

“I’ll do it,” Ser Rolf volunteers and takes you with him, but leaves you at the side as he runs to the center and steals everyone’s attention.

“Can I get everyone’s attention please! Tonight we have a special guest blessing this hall with her song! May I present the Siren of Driftmark!” He shouts and you don’t shy away or protest now, you run to the center, and bow to the crowd while you spread your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.

“Hello, Winterfell!” You address the crowd and stand tall without a hint of smugness or your nose in the air to show your royal status, you show off a charm that hasn’t been seen in this hall and gains all the wavering attention to you, as if you were born to lead the masses. “Now, now I know what you may be wondering! Can she really sing, she’s never proved that to us! But,” you laugh softly. “I promise that I at least will not make your ears bleed.”

The crowd laughs and a warm look grows on the serious Lord’s face.

“This song goes to my brother who accompanies me this time around,” you let it be known so you don’t share all the attention. “And of course to your Lord Stark. Thank you for hosting us tonight, my friend.”

You flash him a smile and he nods gently in return, unable to keep his eyes off as you whisper to the band in the corner. He follows your every step with a curiosity that grows only as you clear your throat, take in the crowd that’s gathered in the hall, and draw out a deep breath, because after you part your lips and start to sing softly for all the crowd to hear, all he knows is complete awe as you grow louder and more enchanting with your song.

You become one with yourself and it makes it impossible for anyone to turn away, all the attention is on you as if you were a real-life siren. Yet no matter how many eyes watch you, how surprised and amazed everyone is, and how that prides you, all your attention falls on one man who only watches you with awe, because in this hall it’s just you and him once again.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Fishing has never been your strength, you enjoy the quality time when you go with someone, but besides that, you aren’t patient enough to wait for a fish to take the bait.

It’s why as you watch the blue fish in murky waters you make sure to stay out of the water as you slowly pick up your bow, and align your arrow, hoping it won’t hear you and swim off somehow.

Albeit the fish with blue scales moves, making you hold your breath and wait…

Good thing it just moves under the sunbeam that casts in the water. Now though, you do feel guilty for trying to kill it, it’s so beautiful, its scales glimmer a deep blue against the sun like the prettiest gems are stuck to it.

Yet a fish is all it is.

Before you can shoot though, the fish swims away quickly. “Damn, damn,” you hiss and move your aim along with its hasty movements to not let it get out of sight. And just before it can escape into the shallow river, you let the arrow go and luckily shoot the fish right through its eye.

“Haha,” you celebrate to yourself and throw your bow aside to pull your fur cloak off and leave it on the giant rock so it doesn't get wet when you step into the water.

“Oh,” you gasp at the icy touch and rush to grab the fish on the tips of your feet whilst letting out quick ‘oh’s at the cold touch of the water.

However, before you can attempt to turn and run out of the water you catch a branch snap behind you and stiffen.

There's only two people it can be, but you’re still so nervous that the Greens are going to find you that your mind panics and quickly makes you reach for your dagger around your belt.

When you hold the handle you slowly peer back and gasp when you just see Cregan. “Gods,” you breathe out and let the dagger go. “You startled me.”

Cregan finally walks out of the tree line and puts his hands up. “Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt your moment. Forgive me.”

You laugh nervously and walk out of the water with relief, and your trophy in hand.

“You’ve been on edge lately,” he points out as he watches you trade your trophy for your cloak.

You sigh. “With this impending war, my husband and his family have been insistent on getting me and Aerion back to King's Landing, that I fear they’ll be in every corner I turn,” you share as you hang your cloak around your shoulders.

Cregan drops his head and nods gently. “Well, no Greens will reach you here. You have my word.”

He looks up and you meet his gaze and offer him a gentle and thankful smile before you grab your arrow from the rock and show off your prize. “I promised my little brother Joffrey we would go fishing, but I think this way is more effective, do you not think?”

Cregan gets closer and tilts his head to the side to shrug. “Can’t say it’ll be called fishing if that’s the way you go.”

You scoff and flick your wrist to brush him off. “Sure it is, we will just use a bow and arrow to catch our fish. I don’t want to wait hours to get one on a hook.”

Cregan huffs and you take that as a challenge. “But I know fishing in the extreme is not for everyone.”

A faint smile breaks on his face and he remarks. “Who do you think you are talking to exactly?”

You shrug and pick up your bow to offer it to him. “Prove your skill, Lord Stark.”

Without further argument, Cregan takes the bow and narrows his gaze. “You know how much I hate it when you’re so formal with me,” he remarks.

You shoot him a simple teasing smile and let the bow go to fall by his side instead. “Alright there’s one right across from us,” you whisper as you hand him an arrow. “Quietly.”

Cregan aligns his arrow and tilts his head down toward you. “Who taught you to hunt?” He picks on your comment.

You lift your gaze, catching the gleam in his eyes, and giggle. His gaze lingers, threatening to drive your heart mad so you look down first and he follows your gaze to follow his prey. When he thinks he has the right angle to catch the fish he lets the arrow go, but the wooden weapon whizzes to the fish's side and only works to startle it away.

“Aha!” You blurt and grab his arm. “I told you. Skill!”

“Oh, hush you,” he brushes you off with a grin before he walks over to collect your arrow. “Oh, by the way, singing?! How come you never told me?”

You sit back on the giant rock and shrug. “One, because I was quite timid to sing to you,” you admit and make him smile at the ground. “And two…after my father died…I just lost my heart to sing. It did not feel right.”

Cregan steps out of the water and his smile fades to show his comprehension. “I understand,” he says quietly and puts your arrow bag in the leather holster.

“I would sing for my grandfather Viserys when I returned to the Red Keep, but I didn’t have a heart to sing until I had Aerion,” you muse as you miss your boy. “He made me find my voice again. And now he falls asleep to my song.”

“What a lucky lad,” Cregan says and steps toward. “You have a beautiful voice. I understand why you got your name.”

A warmth creeps on your cheeks and you smile at the rock beneath you. “Thank you,” you whisper. “And don’t take it as something I hid from you, you are just learning something new from me.”

He hums softly and adds. “It’s just a way to keep me on my toes, I respect that.”

You return his hum and blink to look over at him, catching his watchful gaze, and feeling at that moment a need to entrust him with something that’s been troubling you, something that didn’t satisfy you when you spoke about it to your grandmother.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask hesitantly. “If it makes you uncomfortable, tell me, all right?”

Cregan shifts in his stance and nods without hesitation. “It’s all right, go on,” he assures you to keep going.

You avert your gaze and fiddle with the ring that Aemond gifted you. “It’s just,” you breathe out and make sure Jacaerys isn’t approaching before you continue. “You’re the most loyal man I know. Your oaths are everything to you,” you tell him, making him slowly sit down beside you. “So can you tell me where my loyalties should lie? Should I return to my husband? Especially now that we have a child should I follow him blindly? Growing up, the Septa’s would plague me with how to be a good wife, Alicent makes indirect comments all the time, it's my job as a woman to be a loyal wife, but…” you trail off and look up at the sky and exhale shakily.

“I love my mother, I love my family, and I know she’s the one who belongs on the throne,” you continue to confide in him. “It was stolen from her, nothing will ever make me look at that differently. I will follow her rule, but…Aemond is my husband. He stands loyally on the other side, shouldn’t I stand by his side? Follow him blindly?” You ask from the depths of your torn heart and drop your gaze to look at Cregan with an aching look that wounds his heart.

“He might be your husband, and you may have a responsibility to him now that should come over your mother, but you still have your beliefs,” Cregan says with sincerity since he knows that all you need now is a friend, not a jealous ex-lover. “What you want still matters. And you know what you want to do, I hear it now, I see it with my own eyes. Don't betray yourself just because you don’t want to disappoint one or the other,” he reassures you softly and leans closer to you without actually touching your hand that’s pressed on the rock next to his, he doesn’t let his breath unfurl over your skin, or let his lips brush against your cheek. He just gets his face closer so you can feel his comfort.

“Would you do it?” You can’t help but ask. “Would you go against your wife if she was on opposite sides of a war?”

Cregan sighs deeply and doesn’t debate his answer, he nods, and you add something that pains him to hear because he knows what it really means. “Even if you loved her?”

Cregan swallows thickly but he doesn’t let his eyes fall, he nods stiffly. “If it was the right thing to do, yes. Even if it pained me.”

You drift your gaze away and nod, hoping you can beat the stinging in your throat, but tears fall from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It will be okay.”

You sniffle and meet his gaze to probe speechlessly.

Cregan understands your gesture and nods, making you offer him a gentle smile and lean towards him. “Thank you, Cregan. It really means a lot.”

“Of course,” he says with a caring look that works to assure the doubt and lift the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders since you found out what happened.

“Thank you,” you add much to his surprise and yours while letting yourself grab his hand. “For loving me.”

Cregan stares at you for a lingering moment with his eyebrows furrowing and unknotting with every emotion that runs through his mind and makes his heart race. “I would do it again, it was my honor,” he speaks softly.

Your bottom lip trembles but you don't cry, you let your head fall on his shoulder for a brief second to express the deep unspoken love that you’ll never actually be able to let go. It’ll forever be scarred in your soul.

And that’s all you could ask for in this world full of horrors. Even if there's no proper goodbye, and there’s so much left untouched, this moment is all you could ever want, it welcomes a comforting silence that brings a smile to your face as you both watch the serene environment.

“We should find your brother,” Cregan breaks the silence after a long moment of being selfish.

You hesitate for a moment but you slide off the rock and collect your stuff before you lead the way back into the forest.

“Do you…” Cregan starts to say while he helps you by carrying the fish you caught. “Still dream of flying to faraway places?”

You keep your eyes out for your brother and purse your lips together as you sigh. “Would you be disappointed if I said I did? Only sometimes though.”

Cregan chuckles. “No, of course not. I’m glad you still do. Where to?”

You suck in air and twirl around to face him as you walk back. “Maybe,” you breathe out and happily share what he wants to know. “Yi Ti. I was given this beautiful gem necklace from there and I’ve been completely enamored by the place ever since. It’s said princes live in solid gold houses.” You nod eagerly, making him scoff.

“My most favorite gowns are made of silks from Yi Ti,” you muse and turn back around on your heels. “Some I have yet to wear because I have been saving them. Hopefully, I get to wear one soon! Don’t worry though my feet are still on the ground,” you make sure to assure Cregan. “I have not forgotten what I learned here.”

You hear him hum before he mutters. “I’m quite curious about these expensive gowns.”

Your breath catches in surprise and you peer over to shoot him a pointed look. He responds by flashing you a charming smile that makes you roll your eyes and hold back your smile.

Thankfully in that next moment, you spot your brother in the distance and force all your focus on him.

Jacaerys doesn’t seem to spot you right away though, so after a quick and brilliant idea hits you you leave Cregan behind to sneak around Jacaerys. Once you get close and he’s made some distance from the tree you’re hiding behind, you slip out and avoid stepping on all the branches and dry leaves. When you’re close enough you bite back your smile and raise your hands to jump on his back, but much to your misfortune he’s too perceptive and ruins your plan. “I saw your foot behind the tree.”

You blow out air and drop your arms with a pout. Jacaerys turns and spots Cregan walking out of the shadows first before he faces you and shows off the rabbits he caught. “What did you catch?”

You frown deeper and point at the single fish, making him chuckle. “That’s all?! I thought you were some great hunter!”

You roll your eyes and sputter out an excuse. “Well, I did see some rabbits but I didn’t want to kill them, they were adorable.”

And you can’t say Cregan distracted you either, for the most part, you were just walking and taking in the sights you left behind last year.

“Uh-huh.” Jacaerys nods with a smug smile on his face. “Sure,” he quips. “You are such a girl.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off before you get ahead of the group and lead the way to a distant clearing where you’ll have lunch. “A few months back,” you share to fill the silence and avoid your previous topic. “I was at the market street and on our way back I ran into this Red priestess.”

“A witch,” Jacaerys corrects you, causing you to turn around and counter.

“No, a red priestess. Calling them witches is kind of mean.”

Jacaerys scoffs and turns to Cregan for support. “I say witches, what do you call them here, Lord Stark?”

Said man grabs his blade hooked on his belt and meets your brother's gaze with a hidden smugness behind his eyes. “Witches, but sometimes we call them pretenders, depending on the price.”

Jacaerys chuckles and you know they’re obviously just working against you so you choose to ignore the negativity and go on. “Anyway!” You exclaim and twirl back around. “She told me my future. She said…” you leave them with anticipation for a few seconds before you share what you were told. “I would have seven kids.”

“Gods,” Jacaerys murmurs.

“Mhmm.”

“Now,” Jacaerys cuts in and rushes over to fall by your side, leading Cregan to fall on your other side—“Who will give you all these children if your husband dies in this war?”

Without as much as thinking you turn to your brother and nudge his chest to make him think it’s something you planned when really you’re just teasing him. Kind of. “You. We could get married.”

Your brother's face falls and he immediately shakes his head and turns you down bluntly. “No. I would not marry you.”

“Oh right, there’s Baela,” you point out and grab your chin as you think deeply. “Well…I could take her. She’s quite terrifying, but yes,” you nod and look back at your brother. “I can take her in both a dragon fight and hand-to-hand combat…I think.”

Jacaerys' nose scrunches and he shakes his head again. “No, I would not marry you! You are…you.”

You look around confused and pick on that considering your house is known to marry within the family to keep the bloodlines pure. Aegon and Helaena are married.

“So?”

Jacaerys parts his lips but he can’t think of a strong argument that will beat the truth. Yet you do take a good look at Jacaerys and find an excuse. “You are right,” you mutter. “We could not, I do favor taller men, thus maybe...” you trail off to think, leaving Jacaerys offended by your bold comment.

“A Prince from Yi Ti with a house made of gold,” Cregan finishes for you, making you snap your eyes at him and smile slowly in amusement.

“Funny,” you hold back your laugh. “Very funny.”

He rolls his head down and hides his smile.

Gods laughing with him is so much better in person. He can be very funny in a serious way that only makes what he says or does that much funnier.

“She also let me see in the fire,” you continue to share more excitedly now. “And what I saw was a girl—”

“Wait, wait,” Jacaerys cuts you off and wipes away his smile. “Now when this priestess of yours talked to you, was she on the other side of this fire?”

You look away and bite your cheek before you lie by shaking your head as a response.

Albeit Cregan knows you well and points you out. “Liar.”

“Yes, fine!” You exclaim and gently nudge him away. “She was at the other side, but it was not her that I saw, it was a girl with silver hair,” you catch your brother's serious attention now. “She…stood on top of a mountain covered in snow, ashes, and death.”

Cregan’s own amusement falls and your brother doesn’t dare to tease you now, so you go on.

“All brought by…<A long winter,>,” you finish in High Valyrian to mirror the way the Red Priestess told you before you repeat in the common tongue. “A long winter.”

Both men look at you but one doesn’t look at you with disbelief, nor fear, he’s serious and deep in thought, while your brother lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head to try and deny what you shared.

“I believe it,” you defend yourself and what you saw in that fire because it was clear as day as if you were seeing a memory that hasn’t happened.

“I also believe what this old man said about Ice dragons living past the wall,” you tell your brother, and Cregan interjects right away.

“Old man Thomas is known for tall tales. There are things that are true, but what he says is not.”

You shrug. “He’s well-traveled, why wouldn’t it be true?” You rebuttal and lean towards him.

“Because,” Cregan argues and leans towards you. “He likes attention. And he’s drunk all the time.”

“A drunk man is less likely to lie, you know that because you don’t lie when you’re drunk.”

His lips twitch and before he can respond with something in his defense his eyes turn to your brother at your other side. You discreetly follow his line of gaze and catch your brother's attention so you play it off quickly.

“All I’m saying is I believe what I saw, it may not happen in our lifetime, but it’s in our future,”

A short silence follows that only works to make you grow nervous over what your brother might’ve just thought. But he thankfully brushes you off.

“Maybe but you probably got ripped off by a fake witch.”

Once again you choose to ignore this negativity spouted by your brother and instead drift your attention to lunch, and since Cregan was more in charge of guiding Jacaerys, he didn’t catch anything. All you have is the single fish you caught and the rabbits Jacaerys caught, but neither one of you wants to skin them, so you eat a small lunch and share the fish over a quite fun moment where you, unfortunately, don't receive an answer from Cregan, regarding what he’s willing to offer your mother.

You hoped he’d finally say it during supper, but supper came and passed, and nothing. That lack of response followed until the next two days too, leaving your brother quite impatient now.

“What have you told him?” Jacaerys greets you ever so warmly.

“What have I told who?” You pretend to act clueless while you pick a square cake from the tray and study it before you plop it into your mouth.

“Lord Stark,” he snaps.

You knew he was getting to that since you spotted him stomping over to you and Astraea, but you had hoped he wouldn’t get to it yet.

“It's been days and you said you would talk to him! We don’t have days to waste,” he remarks and spats out your name before going on to give you a mean reminder. “We need to leave and we have nothing.”

You don’t intend to sit up or fix your gaze on your brother, you keep yourself against your dragon's large arm and respond calmly. “He promised he would give us an answer—”

“When?” Jacaerys cuts you off and crouches down to take the tray of cake from you. “When?”

You drag your eyes up and nonchalantly answer. “He cannot pull the army out of his ass, Jacaerys. We have to wait, if he promised he would do something he is going to do it.”

Your brother rolls his eyes and turns away to let out a frustrated breath. “There's a difference between saying a promise and actually committing to it. I do not know how close you are or if you have actually talked to him, but you need to figure something out, that is why you are here.” He mutters.

You watch him knowing that he has a right to be annoyed, Lady Arryn gave you her answer quite quickly, and you’ve been in Winterfell for days but still haven’t received a word on what Cregan will give to support his Queen, but you also trust Cregan, you know he’s going to do what he says, you just need to wait.

“I’ll talk to him again,” you assure him. “If he doesn’t give anything then we’ll return home with his simple loyalty.”

Jacaerys rests his hand on his hip and lets out a deep breath. “All right, that sounds good.”

You sigh and nod, letting a silence linger for a moment before you lean forward. “Can I get those back?”

“What?” He breathes out and turns all dramatically with his cloak twirling with him.

“My cake pieces,” you point at the tray in his hand with your eyes.

Jacaerys passes you a judgmental look before he leans over and lets you take the tray he took.

“Aemond found me,” you let him know of the raven that came to you this morning. “He said ‘come home at once’. Shorter than the last one but still persistent.” You giggle.

Jacaerys walks over to sit next to you against a sleeping Astraea. “Will you?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

You take a cake piece and shake your head. “No…our mother belongs on that throne and I am going to stand by that,” you say confidently now that you know where you want to stand. “He can try to take me by force if he wants, but I am going to fight for her.”

Jacaerys looks over at you with a faint smile and nods in comprehension. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You mirror his smile and offer him a piece of cake. As he takes one a memory creeps in and your smile widens before you can tell it to him. “Do you remember a few years ago, when Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake?”

Midchew Jacaerys loses himself in thought before he snorts, spitting out pieces of cake, and causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Ew,” you grumble and he interjects abruptly.

“Yes! I remember he’s like you cannot be my sister anymore because you are selfish and you ate it all!” He mocks your younger brother.

You giggle and nod, but before you can add to that shared memory Astraea suddenly raises her head, bringing Jacaerys and you to a pause to look over; noticing none other than Cregan approaching.

When he’s near he bows his head and greets the both of you on the ground. “Good day, my princess, my prince.”

You smile at him and greet him for both Jacaerys and you. “Good day. It is nice to see your face today, we ate lunch and breakfast alone.”

Cregan bows his head again. “I am terribly sorry, I have been busy all day, I only barely got out.”

You remember his long days, on some terribly long ones, he wouldn't be let out until it was time to go to bed. You would usually meet him in his chambers on those days and just lay down enjoying each other's company. Today all you can do is look at each other as nothing but old friends.

“I hope your day has not been dull,” Cregan worries.

You shake your head. “No, we were just reminiscing about a day of our childhood when,” you snicker and go on. “Our little brother Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake.”

Jacaerys nods and continues the story for you. “We both knew there was more so she pretended to leave. Our mother came in a few moments later with more and Lucerys completely freaked,” Jacaerys laughs and stands up as if that would change the way he was telling it. “He started bawling and ran out to look for our sister.”

“When he found me,” you finish the story. “He’s like I am so sorry, I never meant what I said. Come back, do not leave us. You can have as much cake as you want!” You finish with a laugh and Jacaerys joins you.

“That sounds like quite a memory,” Cregan says and reaches out to pat your dragon's snout since she leans towards him with dilated eyes. “Did your mother say anything?”

You and Jacaerys stare at one another in search of the answer, but you can’t recall.

“Not that I remember,” you mention and look back at Cregan. “But it was quite a memory. Lucerys is a sweetheart.”

Cregan hums and Astraea groans softly in response to his touch.

“Oh, maybe you needed something, my Lord?” Jacaerys only asks now.

“Well,” Cregan sighs. “I only wanted to invite the both of you to Castle Black on the morrow so you could see the wall, My Prince. Just before you leave, that is.”

You and your brother share a hopeful look and even if Jacaerys was quite impatient to leave, now he accepts Cregan's invitation. “I have always wanted to see the wall. It would be a pleasure.”

“Good, we will leave at first light then.” Cregan lets you both know and leaves you hoping for a good response that will hopefully make your mother proud.

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A/N- Who’s the 2nd heart of fire? A new character we’re getting soon, or someone else

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me

[damn-stark]

Spoilers for chapter 13 of Moonlight

[damn-stark]

Chapter 1 Golden girl

Chapter 1 of Moonlight

A/N- The parallels between young Rhaenyra and y/n!! The parallels between young Rhaenyra and y/n!! Anyway, I really hope you guys like this new series. I'm really excited to share it with all of you!

Warning- Swearing, Aegon, FLUFF, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- 1x06

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

A lot of stuff is often restricted to you, like training with swords, sparring, strolling too far alone, and flying far and wide on dragonback. You’re often told what you can’t do and what you can do. You’re told how to behave. And the pressure is never as hard on the boys as it is on you. That’s why you find simple pleasures, and oftentimes they’re secret…at least until your mother figures it out.

Like now, for example, you’re told you can’t swim in the ocean without supervision, but you’re old, and you’re a stronger swimmer. You have confidence in yourself so you dive in the gleaming blue waters and swim blissfully.

You don’t swim too far down, but you swim deep enough to watch in awe as a school of fishes find themselves swimming around you.

You smile at the crabs that crawl away into hiding, you find comfort in the ocean waters embrace, and find yourself tempted when you spot a small spiked shell on the ocean floor.

You don’t know if you should keep your dragon worried and swim down to collect it or swim up to finally leave…

Hm.

Well your grandfather does like to keep what you collect, and you don’t find the necessity to catch your breath yet, so with some strong kicks, you swim down and snatch the shell.

After you secured it you finally decide to swim up to the surface, noticing your dragon halfway in the water as she anticipated your arrival.

“Relax,” you reassure her as you show off the shell. “I wasn’t gone long.”

You admire the shell now that you’re standing on firm sand and can’t help but smile as you admire all the delicate designs.

So intricate and amazing. How can something so small be made?

Your grandfather will be pleased.

“Come on,” you tell your dragon watching you carefully. “Let’s go to mother.”

First, though you dry yourself and shimmy on your dress you had taken off so it wouldn’t get wet. Your hair will—well it’ll dry enough when you’re in the air, so you leave it and quickly climb on your dragon, finding more peace in the calm sky on the back of your beautiful soulmate.

It’s really just perfect, that’s how you’d describe this moment, soaring the white fluffy clouds hundreds of feet off the ground. The chilly breeze sweeping past you with all its might, and the bright shining sun kissing your skin with its warm rays of light.

If you had the choice to just fly all your life without consequence it’s something you’d take it. No royal duties, no man to marry, just your dragon; Astraea, and you flying around the world. That’d be truly perfect.

Alas, much to your misfortune you have to get your head out of the clouds and descend back down to the ground. You have to hop off your dragons back and face life, and responsibilities.

“Princess,” one of your handmaidens interjects at the exact moment your feet hit the ground. “Your mother has given birth.”

You immediately grin with glee and don’t fret to approach the handmaiden whilst you take off your glove from the top of the fingertips with your teeth. “What is it?” You ask in a muffled voice.

“A boy,” the Handmaiden shares.

Another brother…tsk.

Well, he’s here now so there’s no use being upset by not having a sister. Yet again.

“What excellent news,” you rejoice, and peer back at your dragon with a soft smile

Astraea looks back at the same time so you meet her gaze and can’t help but only grin wider as you catch how the sunlight bounces off her purple scales.

Yet the joy is short-lived because you then hear your name uttered by an annoying individual. “Sweetling,” he purrs.

You sigh and roll your eyes to look at the boy, catching your uncle Aegon approaching the dragonpit with a stupid grin on his face.

“I hope your flight was a pleasant one,” he says as he keeps approaching you.

You feign a smile and nod. “It was,” you deadpan and quickly escape to your carriage that’s going to take you home. But first, you greet your other uncle. “Hello, Aemond.”

Unlike Aegon, Aemond isn’t much older than you, he just beats you by a year. And! He, unlike Aegon, is much nicer and respectful, making him your favorite.

“Hello,” Aemond greets you back with a shy wave.

You shoot him a genuine smile and then stop in your tracks to add, “you know, Astraea is almost big enough to saddle two. Perhaps when she is at the right size and you have yet to find a dragon, you can ride with me.”

Aegon scoffs beside his younger brother, but Aemond straightens up and lets his gaze linger before he sighs and responds. “We’ll see.”

You grin and nod. “We will. Now excuse me, I have to see my mother.” You take your first step up to your carriage, but Aegon takes his chance to cut in again.

“Perhaps later we can take a stroll around the gardens? Find ourselves down by the—”

“No Aegon,” you cut him off without shame and don’t even bother to look at him, you just walk into your carriage and slam the door shut.

Thereafter the carriage is ridden through the grande city that is your home, past buildings getting constructed, past workers, and people wandering the dirt streets. You pass visitors strolling through the streets, you pass by different shops that contain some of the same things or completely different things. You pass families that make you wonder what it would be like if you were like one of them, a civilian worried just about living, someone who does not need to question why it is that your younger brother Jacaerys gets to be your mother's heir and not you, her eldest child.

Is it really because you’re a woman? She is one too and she still is going to ascend the throne after your grandfather.

Your father says it’s because your mother doesn’t want to burden you with what she’s forced to now carry. But you don’t really believe it, who knows the truth as to why she didn’t choose you.

Because you’re simply not her favorite? Because you don’t look like your brothers? Because you don’t have brown hair like them, or white skin like theirs because yours more so matches your father's? Because your hair is white like his? And hers?

Why is what you ask yourself all the time.

Sometimes…you wish you would’ve been born a bastard, maybe then you would have inherited the throne.

Regardless, you never ask her, nor will you ever do so.

You never let her see your affliction either, you push it back, always. Like now for example, before you go see her you change out of your riding clothes and wear a lilac-colored gown; with that new change, pushing all your concerns away and putting on a smile that she likes to see on you before knocking on her door.

“Come in,” you hear her voice welcome you in.

You open the door and slowly poke your head inside, catching Ser Harwin inside handing the little newborn babe to your mother.

“Ah, my sweet,” your mother greets and immediately finds the difference in your hair. Yet she doesn’t comment on anything yet. She lets you beam at her and make a beeline toward her now holding the babe on the couch.

“Princess,” you hear Ser Harwin greet from behind you.

You pull your eyes away from the sleeping baby and throw him a mindless greeting. “Hello, Ser Harwin.” You then quickly focus back on your brother and greet him softly. “Hello, you.”

Your mother smiles softly and then looks up at you. “My sweet, meet your brother, Joffrey.”

What an unusual name for him, but he does look like a Joffrey, so you don’t question it.

“You wish to hold him?” She asks you.

You meet her gaze and nod before you reach over so she won’t strain herself, and carefully cradle him in your arms. “Hi,” you greet him again, this time in a softer voice. “I’m your sister.” You giggle softly and look over at your mother. “He’s so adorable and so small.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Smallest one out of your brothers, and you.”

You hum and shift around slowly, but keep your eyes on him, noticing the small brown hairs on his head. You then steal a glance up at the bulky knight watching you sway the babe and take note that Joffrey also inherited his features…making it another secret to keep.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” Ser Harwin interjects.

You keep quiet and hear your mother simply hum in response before he walks out of the room, leaving your mother, Joffrey, and you alone.

“Do you need anything mother?” You ask her and meet her gaze. “More water? Food? A pillow?”

Your mother shakes her head. “No, I’m quite content right now. Thank you.”

You take this time now to slowly sit down beside her and make sure to keep swaying the babe so he won't wake.

“You stink of dragon, and salt,” your mother points out. “I thought I told you that you couldn’t go swimming so far. No one can see you from so far.”

You pass her an assuring look and rebuttal. “Astraea is watching me.”

Your mother sighs deeply and shakes her head. “She may not be able to do anything if you drown in deep waters. I won’t be able to do anything if you drown so far away. The currents are strong.”

You bat your lashes so you can get your way. “But grandfather says some of the oldest things lie in the ocean. I just want to see.” You smile at her innocently. And since your mother doesn't have the energy to keep arguing she points out something else.

“I assume you were out flying as well?”

“Yes, but I finished my teachings early so I had time,” you immediately explain to her.

Your mother hums. “Well I hope so, the Septa always likes to complain that you never pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and meet hers. “Well maybe if she didn’t talk so slowly then I’d actually enjoy what she has to teach,” you counter, making your mother laugh.

“Yes, her voice is quite irritating, but I just want you to pay attention to your teachings, okay?” She says.

You let out a soft sigh and nod in agreement. “I’ll try, but if Astraea needs me I simply cannot refuse her.” You look back at your sleeping baby brother and feel your smile soften. “I cannot wait to have a babe of my own.”

“Really?” Your mother questions. “When I was your age all I wanted to do was fly, be with my friends, and dream. I hated the thought of having children.”

You smile as your interest piques and can't help but meet your mother's soft gaze. “Really?” You probe excitedly.

Your mother nods. “Yes, but that all changed when I found out I was having you,” she adds and gently nudges your arm.

You mirror her smile and turn to hand her back the babe so you can be on your feet once more. “Well, I do still want to fly around the world. That would be great,” you tell her and walk around her to stop behind her. “Discover new places. See new waters. Different people.” You draw out a soft breath and pick up her long silver-gold hair to begin braiding it in the way Queen Visenya would wear hers.

“That sounds nice,” your mother goes along with your silly dream. “Perhaps you’ll be like Princess Nymeria.”

The corner of your lips pull to a smirk.

“Yet,” your mother adds on. “How can you voyage the world without finishing any of your teachings? A sailor needs knowledge to read maps for example.”

You roll your eyes and feign a laugh. “Oh haha. Well, I can be like a pirate, or I could travel with my father and have him do all the work.”

Your mother chuckles and nods in agreement. “I bet he would like the idea of being out at sea.”

You hum softly, and then pause after you knit a strand of her hair with the other as you fall serious. “But really, what will I do? I mean…what will be of my life? Queen Alicent says I’m almost at the right age to be married off. Will I have to leave you and be matched to some pampered Lord who just locks me away?”

A deep breath escapes your mother as if ready with a response, but she remains quiet for a moment before she pats the empty space you had sat on before.

You, of course, don’t hesitate and let her hair fall on her back before you take the seat beside her once again.

“I know what it is to want to just hop on your dragon and fly off,” she begins to say whilst she shifts in her seat to try and be closer to you. “I understand what you feel. It’s normal to feel so, but I’ll tell you now something your grandmother Aemma told me when I was young.” She manages to cup your cheek, causing you to draw out a soft breath. “We have royal wombs you and I, my sweet, it is how we serve the realm.” She then presses her forehead against yours, making you smile softly and find comfort in her gesture.

“Besides, you are my daughter,” she adds with a growing smug smile. “You descend from the greatest line, you are the granddaughter of one of the greatest voyagers. I assure you that you won’t sit and do nothing, I promise.”

You mirror her smug smile and with all the trust in the world, you nod in comprehension.

“And,” she continues. “With luck, you won’t be sent far at all.”

You pull back and look at her with a pointed glare. “I don’t want to marry Aegon. I’d rather be sent to the wall than be married to him.”

Your mother chuckles and shakes her head. “Gods no,” she assures you, letting you let out a relieved sigh and lay your head on her shoulder.

“Someone else,” she gives your heart comfort. “I’ll find a match who deserves you, don’t worry,” she whispers and lays her head on yours. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you have a good life.”

——

*LATER*

Most nights, when rain doesn’t fall from the sky, when the clouds don’t cover the stars you like to sneak out of bed and climb up castle towers to watch the stars with the desire for more.

You like to feel the wind and pretend you’re far away, somewhere lost in the sky, or somewhere in the ocean. You like to breathe in the fresh air that hits the towers and watch those few people below walk the streets or just the simple castle grounds. There are some nights when Aemond joins you, not a lot, but it is always him and no one else.

And it seems that tonight is one of those nights.

“Aemond,” you call with glee.

Said boy carefully and quietly climbs up the roof to sit beside you.

“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” you point out.

Aemond shrugs softly. “I couldn't find sleep. I knew you’d be here so I thought I could at least pass time.”

You smile softly and nod in comprehension before you glance at the sky again. You sit in silence and find comfort in it, he's always someone that you can find comfort in. Without Baela and Rhaena here he's your only best friend, someone you can confide in since it’s different with your brothers since they are young—maybe once they’re older you can behave like friends too and not just like the squabbling siblings you are.

“Do you think,” you begin to ask him out of fear even after your mother's attempt at comfort. “I’ll be sent away?”

Aemond pulls his gaze away from the sky and looks at you whilst you keep your eyes on the stars.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

You sigh and blink to look down. “I mean…I’m almost at the age to get married. Since I won’t inherit the throne or Driftmark, I’ll probably be married off to someone far from here.”

Aemond nods and follows your line of gaze. He’s unable to find something to say for a moment, but it then occurs to him. “We could get married. That way you’d stay here.”

You drift your eyes to him and muster a small soft smile. “We could,” you whisper in relief and feel your smile widen at the thought, but it soon begins to fade as doubt once again overtakes you. “But if we don’t would you run away with me?”

Aemond hesitates and then shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “We have our duties here.”

Your smile completely disappears at his answer, and your gaze drops to your fiddling fingers. “I’d run away with you if you asked,” you mutter and rest your elbows on your knees to rest your chin on your palms. “We could ride Astraea and fly far away.”

“Be what?” Aemond queries.

You shrug. “Whoever we want,” you throw out as if it wasn't obvious. “Pirates. Rich lords. Dragon riders that discover new lands.”

Aemond scoffs. “I don’t have a dragon.”

You look over at him and nudge his arm. “You’ll have one. I know it. There are still many that are unclaimed, my mother says they rest at Dragonstone.”

Aemond meets your gaze and his lips tug to a smile. “If I asked you to fly me there would you?”

You smirk and nod. “Of course!” You sit up to stand on your feet. “Who’d be laughing then, huh?” You try to comfort his own insecurities. “Aegon. That’s who.”

You twirl around and then reach the top of the roof to begin balancing on it as you slowly walk on it. “There’s Sheepstealer, Greyghost, Silverwing, Vermithor, and the scariest of them all, Cannibal!” You exclaim and jump around, causing Aemond to reach his hands out in case you fell.

“Stop that,” he snaps at you while he follows behind you. “You’ll fall.”

You chuckle and turn around again to keep balancing on the top of the roof. “Who would you pick?” You ask.

Aemond hums for a second before he answers with slight excitement. “Vermithor, beside Vhagar, Vermithor is one the largest.”

You peer back and shoot him a smile. “Nice. I’d still win you in a race though.”

Aemond smirks. “Vermithor is larger, he has more experience as well.” He says smugly.

“But Astraea is smaller, not so heavy,” you quickly rebuttal. “So her weight wouldn’t slow her down.”

Aemond playfully rolls his eyes. “I guess we’ll see,” he plays along and then pushes you forward very gently, causing you to stop in your tracks to turn and try to push him, but he steps back with a laugh.

You giggle in response and try to move ahead, but at that moment you catch a glimpse of your father Laenor standing on a balcony below all alone.

“What is it?” Aemond asks as he notices your smile fall.

You lean your head forward to get a better view, catching your father reading a letter. “It’s my father,” you whisper.

Aemond carefully falls beside you and looks out as well to see what you’re seeing.

“Come on,” you urge Aemond and grab his hand to lead him back inside through the window you had climbed out of.

When you're in the safety of the hall you come to a stop and hold your breaths to listen for approaching servants or guards. When you hear no footsteps, or metal clinking against each other you breathe out, and then lead Aemond down the stairs. He makes sure not to let go so he won’t fall behind, or so he can quickly stop you if he hears someone approaching.

It’s only until you approach the door that leads out to the balcony your father is on that Aemond pulls his hand out of your grasp, causing you to turn and face him with a puzzled look.

“Go,” he encourages you. “I’ll go back to my chambers.”

Your eyebrows slowly furrow. “Are you sure? You could join us.” You let him know kindly.

Aemond shakes his head. “It’s okay, he’s your father.”

“My father won’t get us in trouble for being awake so late,” you try to assure him.

But Aemond remains insistent. “It’s quite alright. I’ll see you on the morrow.”

You don’t try and fight him anymore and nod in agreement.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, matching a small soft smile with his words.

You shoot him a sweet smile in return. “Goodnight, Aemond.” You then turn and join your father out on the balcony.

Albeit he doesn’t turn when he hears the door close, so you call out to him softly. “Father?”

Said man lifts his head and peers back. When he realizes it’s you he blinks in slight shock whilst a smile tugs on his lips. “What are you doing here? It's late.”

You make your way to him and shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. And I…saw you down here alone so I wanted to keep you company.”

Rather than countering with disapproval, your father begins to smile. “You were on the roofs weren’t you?” He knows you too well.

Still, you act shocked and clueless, but he sees through you.

“You gave it away when you said “down here”, and you’re fiddling with your fingers.”

You look down and catch your involuntary act and stop right away whilst you stop beside him against the railing.

“I hope you remember what your mother says about being up there,” your father continues with a more strict tone.

“Well,” you quip innocently. “She won’t know if she doesn’t find out.”

Your father scoffs in amusement as his smile widens. “Alright. As long as you're careful though. Okay?”

You rest your hands on the stone railing and nod. “Always,” you assure him.

He hums and then looks ahead, causing his smile to fall and your curiosity to heighten. “Are you okay, father?”

Said man blinks in disbelief at your question. You’ve worried about him before, you, perhaps more than the other children. And that can be because you’re older and understand more, or because you are his only legitimate child. Whatever the reason, you were the closest to him out of the other two kids.

“I just miss my sister,” your father admits.

You hum softly and look up to the starry sky. “I know,” you begin to add softly. “Perhaps it’s not the same, but I miss my cousins Baela and Rhaena too. And when I do, I find comfort in gazing at the sky. I watch the stars and the moon and know that even if they’re far away, we’re still close in some way because regardless of distance, we all look up at the same sky, we all live under the same stars.”

You flicker your eyes to your father and catch a gleam in his eyes while a tender smile paints his face.

“That’s good,” he says softly and reaches over to pat your shoulder. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

You mirror his smile and look up at the sky. He follows your line of gaze and smiles wider.

“Thank you,” he whispers to the stars.

You look over at him and offer him a sweet grin. “Of course. Now,” you roll out and lean back as you grip onto the railing. “Serious question.”

Your father scoffs softly and probes. “Okay. Share.”

“If I asked you to take me voyaging, would you?” You ask, and turn on your heels to face him excitedly.

“Voyaging?” He questions.

You nod eagerly. “Yes!” You exclaim. “Voyaging. You could teach me how to sail. I’ve asked my grandfather Corlys, but he says I should instead learn how to sew correctly.” You huff.

Your father chuckles softly. “You are terrible.”

You pout. “Well there are better things to do,” you grumble and roll your eyes. “Besides, the Septa is such a prude—Anway…we wouldn't even have to go far, just maybe across the narrow sea?” You bat your lashes so you can try and pursue him more effectively.

“Well,” your father sighs. “I don’t know how your mother would feel about that, but I can tell you one thing, I can teach you how to sail.”

Your eyes widen with joy. “Really?!” You lean forward and grab his arm. “You really mean it father?”

His smirk turns slightly smug and he nods. “I could.”

You squeal and turn to hook your arm around his. “And then you’d teach me how to wield a sword?”

Your father begins to walk you back inside whilst he answers. “Depends how well you master sailing.”

“Alright,” you nod. “Alright, I can accept that.”

“Can you accept going to bed?” Your father rebuttals with a joke. “The hour is late.”

“Hm, I suppose I could. So when will our first lesson be?” You press.

Your father meets your gaze and matches your smirk. “I’ll let you know.”

You smile and nod with contentment.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Soft thrashes echo around the courtyard as your brothers Lucerys and Jacaerys, and uncles Aegon and Aemond train against straw men.

You aren’t really allowed to be watching them, the Septa says that it’s a waste of time, “you’re a Princess.” she says.

Pft, it’s boring going to lessons, besides, you learn far more by watching the boys swing their swords. You like to memorize them and then mirror those same actions at night when you can practice with a wooden sword you stole.

“Soften your knees,” you hear Ser Criston tell Aemond. “Feet light. Keep your feet light and your hands heavy.”

You drop your eyes to Aemond’s feet and proceed to shift your own feet to mirror his stance. He then moves on so you look over at Aegon and watch him swing his sword, but he gets distracted by passing servants so you roll your eyes and focus on Jace.

However, you then get interrupted. “Princess, how are lessons today?”

You jump, and when you peer back you see the friendly face of Ser Harwin walking past you.

Luckily it's not the Septa.

“I suppose well,” you sigh and shrug. “Ser Criston as always picks favorites.”

The knight hums and stops to turn and face you hidden under the shadows. “As always,” Ser Harwin agrees. “Where are you meant to be really?”

You begin to smirk. “Going to study High Valyrian, but I know it well, so I chose to take the long way there.”

Ser Harwin chuckles softly. “Alright, well keep your head low, you know how Ser Criston gets.”

You shoot him a happy smile and nod eagerly. The knight then walks away and joins the men in the courtyard, leaving you in your hiding spot like always. He never minds you secretly watching from the shadows, he's nice that way. Ser Criston on the other hand, “this is no place for a lady. Go.”

He’s such a prude too, he’s also an asshole to your brothers, and to Ser Harwin. Sometimes you wish to just stick a metal sword through his throat so he can shut up.

“…Let’s see if you can touch me,” you hear that same man say as you focus back on the courtyard. “You and your brother.”

You snicker and lift your head up higher to get a better view as Aegon and Aemond begin to fight against Ser Criston. And yes even though he’s an asshole, he’s still an impressive swordsman, you’ve learned a lot from watching him.

It’s also funny seeing him beat Aegon and Aemond.

“Ah,” Ser Harwin interjects. “Weapons up boys. Give your enemies no quarter.”

Ser Criston notices Ser Harwin, and leaves Aemond and Aegon defeated to slowly make his way to Ser Harwin.

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention…Ser Criston.”

Right!

“You question my method of—”

“Ah, young lady there you are!”

Seven Hells!

You jump away from your spot and spin around to face your Septa striding towards you with discontent and judgment.

“I’ve just lost my way,” you lie and begin to head back inside before she can pull your ear. “I was heading to lessons.”

Her footsteps follow you and she quickly counters back immediately. “No, you’ll go to your mother, she’ll know about your wrongdoings.”

Thank the gods! She never punishes you like she tells the Septa she will.

“Hello there sweet niece!”

Seven Hells…

You narrow your gaze and frown with disgust before you look over your shoulder and shoot Aegon a scowl.

He chuckles like always because he thinks it’s some game.

As if.

“Young lady,” the Septa begins to scold you as she quickens her pace to reach you. “He is the prince and your uncle. That is rude, and not ladylike whatsoever. Turn around and greet him back.”

You draw in a deep and annoyed breath and stop in your tracks to turn around. He’s already looking at you and so is Aemond. “Good Morrow, uncle Aegon,” you greet him with a monotone voice.

Aegon snickers and Aemond joins in this time. You’d counter, but the Septa would only scold you again, so you pick up the side of your skirt to just turn on your heels and walk back inside.

Once you reach your mother's chambers you’re relieved to see her, but the Septa walks in and snitches.

“Princess Rhaenyra, I found the Princess at the training yard once again, watching the boys train instead of attending her lessons. Something must be done about her wild behavior, it is not ladylike.”

Since you have your back turned to her you begin to smirk with pride.

“Ah,” your mother answers, “I’m sorry, Septa. I’ll have a word with her immediately, thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.”

The Septa hums in agreement before she excuses herself and leaves, letting you swipe the book off the table to turn and walk over to your mother to give her a hello kiss on the cheek before you turn your attention to your one-day-old brother. “Good Morrow, Joffrey, it’s so nice to see you.”

“If anyone asks, say I…” your mother trails off as you sit by her and open the book. “I kept you from flying for a week.”

You giggle and nod as you turn the pages. “Okay.”

“How are they doing?” She refers to your brothers.

“Uh, Ser Criston as always ignores them, but Ser Harwin just joined them so they should finally begin to learn more,” you share. “How are you feeling?” You ask and look at her with concern.

Your mother glances at your brother wide awake and staring at her before she gives you an answer. “I’m quite in pain today, the milk is quite uncomfortable.”

You frown since you can’t do anything to help her. The only thing you can offer her are words and attempts at some kind of aid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Is there anything I can do?”

Your mother meets your gaze and begins to smile softly. “No.” She shakes her head. “I’m quite fine. The girls should be here soon.”

Regardless of what she said you put the book down and walk over to the small table by the door to pour some water for her.

“I was thinking,” your mother interjects. “How would you like to accompany me when I attend the small council meetings? You could serve wine, as I did once.”

You meet her gaze with a slightly shocked look. “Really?” You ask as you walk back to her. “You mean it?”

Your mother nods. “Of course. They’re quite dreadful sometimes, but you want to be more involved so that should help.”

Your smile widens as you turn giddy. “Well, I would really love that. I think it’s a swell idea. Thank you, mother.”

Your mother offers you a happy smile and watches you move a small table closer to her so it’s easier to grab the water while she’s holding Joffrey.

“Thank you, my sweet girl,” she thanks you and caresses your hand as you join her back on the couch. “Now, would you read to me? I wouldn’t like you to fall behind on your Valyrian.”

This time without fuss you open the book back up and begin reading the words written on the pages. There’s a lot you know already, it’s just some pronunciation that you can’t get right at times, but your mother does offer her support so it makes it easier.

Not so soon after albeit, the Wetnurse comes so she steals her attention away, and since the topic isn’t as attention seeking to you, you keep reading.

That is until one of her handmaidens walks in looking quite distressed. “Princess.”

You lower your book to your lap and listen intently.

“There’s been an incident in the yard. Ser Harwin got in a fight with Ser Criston after an argument broke.”

You swallow thickly and quickly snap your eyes to your mother, noticing her smile had fallen and her gaze lost its happy gleam.

“Okay, thank you,” your mother directs at her handmaiden before she stands up and hands Joffrey to the Wet Nurse. “Do as I said.”

The Wetnurse leaves and your mother turns to face you. “You can stay here if it pleases you, my sweet, I’ll be back,” she says.

Without questioning her antics you nod to assure her and choose to stay in her chambers as she leaves through a secret door she has in her room; one reason being you really didn’t want to go to your room, and two, well you're curious to know what happened.

However, you might have an idea as to what led to that fight. Ser Criston probably provoked Ser Harwin with insinuations about your brothers. That’s the only reason why you’d think Ser Harwin would risk his position and hit a member of the Kingsguard.

But then again, Ser Criston deserves to get hit, he’s a dick. Yes hitting him probably only adds fire to the rumors about your brothers and Ser Harwin, but no one knows how insufferable Ser Criston is to your brothers, you, or your mother. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to, his dirty looks, and his cold shoulder when he shows kindness to Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Queen Alicent is enough to let you know he doesn’t like either of you.

Who knows why?

Regardless, your mother returns shortly after with an even more glum look painted on her face, meaning she overheard nothing good.

“To ease the pain, Princess,” her handmaiden lets her know as she rinses the cloth.

Your mother remains quiet and lets the handmaiden help her, whilst she now breaks her silence to speak to you. “Why don’t you keep reading to me, yes? You were doing so good.”

“Okay.” You give in to do as she says without probing, even if you’re dying to know what she heard, and even as singing begins to echo out in the hall, getting louder and louder, and also recognizable as the people get closer.

The moment you know it’s your father and his…Paramour, singing, you pause and end up sharing a knowing glance with your mother before the doors open and your father stumbles in with Ser Qarl.

“My dear wife,” your father greets with a chuckle. “My beautiful daughter.”

You look over at the man and offer him a sweet smile, noticing that he in fact is drunk; you can tell by his happy smile and his unbuttoned coat.

“Princess,” Ser Qarl greets your mother and then looks over at you. “Princess.”

“Hello, Ser Qarl,” you greet back, and then leave your book as you stand up since going off by the hardened look on your mother's face, what follows seems private and unpleasant.

“Oh…I fell down,” your father interjects and then snickers.

Yeah, he’s incredibly drunk. Again.

“I’m going to check on my brothers,” you let your mother know before you press a kiss on her cheek.

“Okay,” she answers and returns a kiss to your cheek. You then walk over to the door and stop by your father.

“Bye father,” you say with a smile regardless of his current state.

“Oh you’re leaving,” he counters and grabs your arm. “Why don’t you stay?” He turns to face your mother and then looks at Ser Qarl. “You should have heard what she told me last night. It was the sweetest thing.”

You grab his arm to gently slide your arm from his grasp. “I’m going to check on the boys, father, really,” you cut him off and go on your tiptoes to press a peck on his cheek. “Goodbye.”

“I’ll see you later then, my darling,” he doesn’t argue—or he just doesn’t have the right mind right now to try. Which benefits you, he’s drunk, he gets quite annoying when he’s so drunk so it’s good he didn’t insist.

Yet the curiosity in you does want you to stay back and listen to what your mother was going to tell him—but no, you can’t. Besides, she probably would’ve told you to leave either way….

That doesn’t mean you can’t just snoop.

No, you can’t. You’ll know soon. You can’t give in to temptation even if it’s killing you. You can’t!

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“…It is Lord Blackwood’s contention, therefore, that the Brackens moved the boundary stones in the dead of the night and put their horses to graze in his field.”

Okay, yes, the excitement of accompanying your mother to these small council meetings has quickly washed away. All they do is talk and talk over insignificant matters.

“Why was this issue not brought before Lord Grover?” Queen Alicent asks. “Has he grown so feeble he cannot settle a quarrel over rocks?”

The Lords and others have stopped asking for wine halfway through this damned meeting, making for a dull wait.

“I’ve heard a tale that Lord Grover’s son now rules Riverrun in all but name,” a Lord adds.

“Well, he is also a Tully and this remains a Tully problem,” Alicent says.

“I would agree,” your grandfather interjects, letting Lord Tyland now cut in.

“If we may move on, my lords—”

“And yet,” your mother cuts him off, continuing with the previous matter. “The Brackens and the Blackwoods will use any excuse to spill each other's blood. So this dispute bears looking into. There will be countryfolk who know where the lines have been drawn for generations.”

“That is easy enough,” the Lord Hand agrees, causing Queen Alicent to scoff quietly in disagreement.

“Of course.” She shakes her head and takes a sip of wine with that same bitchy attitude she always bestows your mother, you, and your siblings. She doesn’t try to hide it either, making for yet someone else you dislike.

“Ser Tyland,” the Hand returns to his matter.

“Uh, we should address the latest developments in the Stepstones, my Lords.”

Your grandfather groans and comments with discontent. “Will we ever be shut of that blasted place?”

“If you ask me, I think the Blackwoods have the upper hand,” Lord Beesbury randomly cuts in with a topic already dealt with.

“We’ve moved on to the Stepstones, Lord Beesbury,” the Maester informs the old lord, causing you to look over at your mother to meet her gaze and share an amused look you quickly hide.

“And the Triarchy’s new alliance with Dorne,” Ser Tyland adds and makes sure to say it loud enough so Lord Beesbury can hear, only making you drop your head to hide your stifled smile.

“I was hoping our negotiations with Sunspear might persuade them to see reason,” your grandfather adds before coughing into his cloth. “To trust a Martell is to be disappointed.”

“And where, I wonder, is our Prince Daemon?” A lord asks. “Or I suppose I should call him King, as he styled himself when he won a battle there…once.”

You see the man smirk faintly as he fills with pride at his own comment only because the man he speaks of isn’t here. You’ve heard of his, uh, rash behavior, so you’d like to hear the Lord dare say the same thing with your uncle here.

He wouldn’t.

“…we have left it undefended,” you focus back on the conversation as your mother speaks. “There should’ve been fortifications built, watchtowers, a fleet of ships, a garrison of soldiers sent to hold our ground.”

“We cannot afford it,” Alicent counters. “Our coffers are great, but not infinite. We must consider the cost to our subjects.”

“I must agree—”

“The cost of war is greater,” your mother cuts Lord Beesbury off. “But we have been lax and the old monster now lifts its head.”

You drift your gaze to Alicent to wait for what she’d respond with, but a second of silence passes as she just glowers at your mother before she responds with ignorance. “Let us be finished.”

“Yes,” your grandfather breathes out with exhaustion, letting the other lords get up.

Albeit your mother stays seated and continues the meeting as everyone is out of their seats. “Wait. I wish to speak.”

You blink in confusion and focus on her as everyone except Alicent sits back down, and she continues.

“I have felt the…strife…” your mother begins to say. “Between our families of late, my Queen. And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that, we were friends.”

You glance at Alicent and see her expression has not softened whatsoever, she remains shooting glares and looking uninterested in what your mother has to say.

“My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me,” your mother adds, making you look down at your hands clasped together and sigh softly with…uneasiness. “I propose we betroth him to your daughter, Helaena. And my only daughter will inherit Dragonstone when I ascend the Throne…”

You blink and look over at your mother at the mention of your name, feeling your face slowly release the tension you began to have on your jaw.

“I propose we betroth her to your son, Aemond.” She offers in hopes for peace.

And at the sound of this news, finally, your interest is piqued, and a soft smile breaks on your face. Not only that but your grandfather glances over at you to share the same happiness with his smile.

“Ally ourselves,” your mother tries to further pursue the Queen. “Once and for all. Let them rule together.”

“A most judicious proposition,” your grandfather agrees with a smile.

Yet when you look over at Alicent, you don’t see that same joy.

“Additionally,” your mother goes on. “If Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs your son Aemond will have his choice of them…a symbol of our goodwill.”

Your smile widens as you feel glad for Aemond having more chances to bond with his own dragon.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent calls out with a serious tone.

You look over at Alicent and wait for what she has to say on the matter, but instead, she goes quiet and just watches your mother, causing you to follow her line of gaze and notice that your mother is leaking milk.

“Oh,” your mother says as she covers her breasts. “Seven Hells.”

You glance around to check if you have anything you could give her so she can cover up and avoid the stares from the men, but you have nothing to hand her. And that only makes you feel bad for her.

“My dear,” your grandfather interjects. “A dragon's egg is a handsome gift.”

“The King and I thank you for your offer and we will consider it duly.” Alicent bounces on after her husband. “You must rest now, husband.” She moves on to your grandfather's side, urging him to get up to finally end the meeting.

“Yes,” he agrees and gets up. Before he turns to walk away he stops before you and caresses your chin with a sweet smile on his face. “Have a pleasant day, darling.”

You beam at him and gently grasp his hand. “And you grandfather.”

Before he leaves and takes his hand away, you quickly take the shell from your pocket that you collected not so long ago and pass it to him.

When he feels what he’s now holding he pulls his hand away and glances at the delicate shell and chuckles softly. “Oh, why, what a wonderful surprise. Thank you.” He whispers excitedly and pats your shoulder before he’s whisked away, making the other lords scurry out after him, and ultimately leaving your mother and you to leave the room last.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention the proposal before my Sweet. Do you like it though?” She asks you as you walk with her to her chambers.

You turn your head to meet her gaze and nod, noticing she looks even more upset now than seconds ago. Her gaze also looks distant.

“Yes, I do,” you assure her so she can know that she at least got someone to agree with her. “Aemond and I are rather good friends. He’s very nice to me.”

Your mother blinks and focuses on you to offer you a faint smile. “Good, that makes me happy. You’ll make a good pair.”

You glance ahead and feel even more giddy at the thought of telling him, and feel especially more happy at the idea that you wouldn’t have to leave after all.

“Do you think the Queen will accept?” You can’t help but ask. “Grandfather seems quite content with the proposals.”

Your mother shrugs. “I hope she does, but we'll see.”

You hope she does, you really hope so.

“May I go tell him?” You blurt with a growing smile.

Your mother notices your joy and can’t help but smile, albeit you do notice it is a bit strained as her attention wavers between you and her thoughts. “Yes, go on, but remember it’s not official yet.”

You shoot her a beaming grin before you pick up your gowns skirt to run up the stairs and hurry to Aemond’s chambers where you know he’ll be at this time of day. Once you finally reach his quarters you knock once and don’t wait a second before you knock repeatedly until the moment the door opens and he’s there with an annoyed expression.

“I assumed it was you with that annoying knocking,” he remarks.

You beam at him and then grab his arm to pull him out of his chambers since you aren't allowed to be in his quarters alone. “Guess what?” You ask in a sing-song voice while you begin to walk down the hall.

Aemond sighs deeply. “You know I hate playing this game with you.”

You roll your eyes and ignore his comment to share the news. “I was at the small council meeting and received glorious news.”

Aemond finally gets his interest piqued and looks at you with a curious stare, whilst you begin to only smile wider.

“My mother proposed that we get married and rule Dragonstone,” you share giddily.

Aemond’s eyes slowly widen, and you notice he swallows thickly.

“Isn’t that great?” You probe and grab his hand. “That means I wouldn’t have to leave and we won’t have to be apart.”

Aemond’s gaze lingers on yours for a moment without any reaction whatsoever. It was beginning to discourage you, but he slowly begins to smile; it’s a faint gesture, but he does smile and you take it as a good sign.

“Yes,” he agrees softly. “That’s good news. What did my mother say?”

Your smile falters at that question, but you keep trying to remain hopeful. “She said she’d think about it. I hope she agrees. I don’t think I want to marry anyone else truthfully.” You look ahead and let his hand go to clasp yours.

“Yes,” Aemond comments. “Me neither.”

A heat grows on your cheeks, and you feel so flustered that you almost can’t talk, but you add softly. “Anyway, that’s all the worthwhile news I had to share. I hope your mother agrees.”

“Me too,” Aemond agrees, heightening your excitement and causing it to last all day.

It's such a bubbling excitement that you could hardly sleep. That's all that invaded your mind, that proposal and the hope that they’d accept so you wouldn't have to leave, and so you wouldn’t marry anyone else but your best friend.

However, as that excitement shone over you, a dark cloud soon lurked. Besides the pain you know your mother feels, there’s that dark stormy cloud that still looms over her, only now it’s far more unruly and out of control, causing your shining excitement to slowly dim.

Especially when she wouldn't let you leave as Ser Harwin came to her chambers to say his goodbyes before leaving for Harrenhal.

Your assumption was right, he did fight Ser Criston because of insinuations. And yes, it doesn’t prove anything, they could pass it as just a snap of emotions on Ser Harwin’s part, but he's leaving regardless.

“…be good to your mother and sister, lads,” you hear Ser Harwin tell both Lucerys and Jacaerys. “I’ll visit when I can.” His leather creaks as he stands up. “But that may be some time.”

Quick footsteps sound on the floor, causing you to look up from your book and catch Jacaerys approaching your mother.

“Jace,” she mutters as she begins to caress the back of his head.

Ser Harwin then follows after your brother with that same soft look he always seemed to have around them, your mother, and even you.

“I will return,” the Knight tells your brother before he lifts his chin. “I promise.”

Your brother nods, letting Ser Harwin part away to approach your mother, but as he does, you look back at your book and pretend to read since you can’t actually bring yourself to focus.

Silence follows for a moment before you hear a kiss and then sweet words that follow by the same man. “I will be a stranger when we meet again.”

More silence follows, causing you to slowly lift your eyes, noticing that Ser Harwin and your mother were just holding each other's gazes. It was a gleaming gaze from him, you can’t read hers since her back is facing you, but you did know she cared for him, so you imagine it's as hurt as his.

But even still them looking at each other with so much tenderness and longing makes you wish for something as passionate as what they had. You want someone to look at you like how Ser Harwin looks at your mother, soft and lovingly.

“Princess,” he bows his head softly before his eyes begin to drift past her shoulder to where you are, so you hastily pretend to be reading once more and let him approach you before you look up and act clueless.

“Farewell sweet Princess, we’ll see each other again someday. But until then, may you let no one change who you are.” He offers you the same sweet smile he had given your brothers, so you can't help but offer him a kind smile as well before a response.

“Farewell Ser Harwin, may your journey home be pleasant.”

The knight offers you one last smile before he turns to collect his stuff to finally leave once and for all. Once he makes it outside though, Jacaerys runs after Ser Harwin but comes to a stop just past the chamber doors. Your mother follows and they both watch the Knight walk away.

“We will exchange letters by raven,” your mother assures Jacaerys. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Why do I look different from my sister?” Jacaerys bluntly asks your mother, causing you to blink in disbelief and straighten up to keep listening. “Is Harwin Strong my father? Am I a bastard?”

Your mother looks back to check if Lucerys is listening, but he isn’t; he's too distracted by his own thing.

“You are a Targaryen,” your mother assures your brother. “Same as your sister. That’s all that matters.”

Jacaerys says nothing in return, he doesn’t look content with her response, but it lets your mother press a kiss on his forehead before urging him back inside and following shortly after.

And now that is dealt with you close your book and get up to try and leave. “May I take my leave, mother? I wanted to go out to the gardens with Helaena.”

Your mother's gaze snaps to you and she swallows thickly before she approaches you with an even darker cloud that begins to creep toward you now.

“I need to tell you something,” she says and grabs your shoulder before cupping your cheek. “We’re going to be leaving.”

Just like that the cloud fully looms over you now, basking you in its darkness and gloom. “What?” You gasp in disbelief.

“My sweet please,” she mutters quietly. “Make a good example for your brothers.”

You draw in a deep breath and only frown deeper.

“It’s for the best,” she tries to convince you without making too much of a fuss. “Our time here has come to an end.”

You shake your head. “But what of the proposals? Aemond?” You argue.

“If Alicent agrees then you’ll come back when you’re older, okay?” She tries to assure you. “You can always exchange letters.”

You let out a shaky sigh, and lose your gaze on the floor as you begin to bite the inside of your cheek. “And grandfather?” You ask.

Your mother lets out a soft sigh, it’s shaky, but she responds as best as she can. “We’ll send ravens. We’ll be better at Dragonstone.”

If this is going to happen, if you are going to leave here then there’s only one thing that can assure you. “Will we leave together?” You ask and slowly meet her gaze. “All of us? Even father?”

Your mother caresses your cheek and nods. “Of course. We’re all going home.”

Home.

It’s only home as long as your family is there with you. So as long as that’s intact then it’s okay. You’ll be happy to go home.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne

[damn-stark]

Chapter 3 Learn to join the dance

Chapter 3 of Moonlight

A/N- Are you guys enjoying it?

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff!, LONG CHAPTER, talks of death.

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

Episode- Before 1x08

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“Oh come on, damn thing.”

Footsteps approach, but they’re quiet and cautious, and you’re too busy trying to climb a wall to pay attention to your surroundings. It’s not until a voice cuts through the night breeze that you’re surprised by the unknown lurker.

“Excuse me…Princess?”

Seven Hells.

You slowly drag your foot off the wall and slowly peer back, noticing that it’s the same young man from the gate when you were brought in.

He's far more handsome from up close though…

“Do you require assistance?” He asks with his deep voice and a heavy northern accent.

“Perhaps,” you say cautiously, “could you help climb over the wall?”

The man glances to the side and then blinks and looks at you. “What for?” He probes. “Are you leaving already?”

Someone's nosy.

“Can you help me or not?” You press in annoyance.

The man unclasps his hands from behind him and slowly begins to walk towards you, whilst the corner of his lips seems to be twitching as if he wants to smile.

Is he finding your agony and distress amusing?

“Could I know why it is that you wish to leave? You just got here.”

You let out an annoyed sigh and pull your hood off considering it didn’t conceal you from onlookers. “No,” you quip and see him stop just a foot away from you.

“Let’s see,” he drags on. “Give me a good reason why you wish to leave and I will help you climb over the wall or I’ll even help you past the gate.” He suggests with amusement, making you roll your eyes and shake your head softly.

“I…” you pause as words begin to choke you up. Words you don’t want to share. “I want to go home, my mother is getting married,” you put it simply without unraveling the emotional spiral behind those simple words.

The guy holds your gaze for a second, he clasps his hands in front of him and then looks around as if his next words are around the castle grounds.

Can he see right through you? Is that why he’s quiet?

“Home?” He quotes and meets your gaze, letting you see how his dark eyes gleam against the firelight in the distance. “I’m afraid that’s not efficient.”

“Not—” You scoff in disbelief and turn around to shake your head and keep your cool.

Sure because finding out that Prince Daemon is now going to be your stepfather isn’t efficient? It should be, it’s weird.

Nevertheless, you don’t say that, you bite the inside of your cheek and look up at the sky. Albeit that turns out to be a mistake because it’s as if your father's face is painted within the stars.

“Fine,” you grumble and grab onto a stone and lift your foot to step on another peeking out. “I’ll do it myself.”

You climb only a step or two and then come sliding back down, making the guy snicker.

You snap your head back and pierce your glare into him. He catches the anger and annoyance and clears his throat and lifts his hands.

“I'm being serious princess, I will help if you tell me why it is you wish to leave this late.” He repeats his offer with a quick change in his expression that lets you know that he is being truthful.

But you don’t want to just unveil yourself to a stranger that just came up to you. Yet there is something about this guy's dark eyes, something that tells you to trust him, that lets you trust him in this place you think is so forsaken.

Yet you can’t utter the words.

“I…couldn’t go back home,” you blurt. “She—the Queen didn't let me turn back to go see him one last time, and now I never can because I was on my way here.” You exhale shakily and drop your head to hide your tears. “I don’t want to be here,” you add much to your surprise. “I don’t want to live far away from my mother and brothers, I…don’t want this royal burden on my shoulders, I don’t want to live with the Queen either, I want to be with my father…but I can’t because he’s dead.”

That’s the first time you’re saying that out loud, accepting to yourself that your father is gone. Really, truly gone forever.

The letter from your mother said it was Ser Qarl, his secret paramour, she didn’t say why, but you do know your father died burning. No one could recognize him, that’s how bad it was. He died and you weren’t there, the last time you saw him was on that stupid dock, now he's gone…and you couldn’t be with him.

“I don’t want to be a Princess,” you continue in a quivering voice. “I want to be free, not tied down. That’s why I want to leave. To get far away.”

The guy swallows thickly and blinks repeatedly before he parts his lips and very quietly shares sweet words. “I’m sorry.”

Besides your mother, he is the first person who’s said that to you. And it’s not like people don't know, that kind of news gets shared, they just don’t care. So hearing him say it makes your breath catch and your heart skip the gentlest beat.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The guy exhales softly and chooses to be sincere with you. “If it’s any consolation, my father would tell me that being a ruler, high born, a lord, whatever it is, it’s not a burden, it’s a responsibility. If you treat it as such then you’ll be good, if you don’t then you fail. Do you wish to be a failure Princess Velaryon?”

You sniffle and shake your head. “No,” you mutter.

The corner of his lips lift ever so slightly and he nods. “Good, now,” he breathes out and points his head back. “Come with me. I’ll show you how to look past that title you think of as a prison.”

You muster a smile and hesitate to follow. “Why should I trust you? I don’t know your name,” you remark.

The guy scoffs and flashes you a faint smile. “My name is Cregan.”

Your smile falls and you stand up straight as you immediately recognize his name. “Lord Stark,” you greet stiffly.

Cregan shakes his head. “I’m not a Lord yet,” he counters and pulls out his hand to offer it to you. “Come with me, Princess. Just because you’re a highborn lady doesn’t mean that you have to be miserable.”

You pull your hand out and reach for his, but hesitate even though you’re tempted and inspired by his words.

He notices your hesitation right away and quickly remarks. “Or do you wish to be miserable and brood?”

No, that would be a nightmare.

“All right,” you give in and place your hand on his, letting him walk you away from the wall and towards some dark corner of the castle. “Should I remind you that I have a dragon who can eat people?” You interject out of fear.

Cregan peers back and shows off a smirk. “Should I remind you to trust me?”

You hold his gaze for a moment until he turns to a door hidden behind moss, greenery, and leaves that leads outside the castle grounds and toward the woods.

“Can I ask how it is that you got that scar?” Cregan breaks the night's silence whilst he leads you towards the woods. “It looks fresh.”

You grip tighter onto him as you enter the darkness and quickly defend Aemond, “It was an accident,” you quickly defend Aemond. “I tried to stop a fight but I just got in the way and ended up getting hurt.”

He hums and nods.

“Where are you taking me?” You return the subject to what matters as you see nothing but a void of darkness.

“We’re not far,” he assures you. “Come. I promise it will be fun.”

“Is it hunting?” You just randomly share a thought that came to mind. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to hunt with a bow and arrow, but my Septa says that it’s not ladylike.” You share and roll your eyes in annoyance.

Cregan peers back and slightly narrows his eyes before he snorts. “Why would we go hunting at this time?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, it was a thought.”

Cregan chuckles. “Well if you wish to hunt owls then we could.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?” You press with a growing smile.

Cregan meets your gaze and stifles his laugh as he shakes his head, causing you to groan and push him away. He laughs harder and points ahead. This time you catch a dancing light in the distance, and as you get closer you notice people hanging around a fire, you hear their laughter and conversation and it all begins to excite you as well as get you a bit nervous.

Every time you’ve snuck out of bed at King's Landing, you could only go to the roofs, you never could be with anyone else besides Aemond, so this is a welcoming change, it seems more fun. However, it’s also because there’s people that you don't know that you grow nervous too and come to a stop, making Cregan come to a stop as well. “Are you sure it's fine I come?” You make sure to ask.

Cregan doesn’t hesitate to answer and nods. “Yes, it is, trust me. Come, meet my friends.”

You carefully follow behind him so they don’t notice you right away, but the further you walk out the more noticeable you get until there’s no shadows or any part of the shield guiding you that hides you. The firelight shines on you, your unique silver-white hair, your gown made from the finest lilac and deep blue colored silks and all smiles fall as all the bodies grow stiff and uncomfortable as it takes no time to recognize you.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” you immediately interject nervously and avert your gaze to announce your name and title, but end up trailing off to a pause.

“She’s with me,” Cregan fills your silence. “Let’s show her a good time, yes? She’s one of us now.”

Seven hells you hate feeling this way. It’s so stupid!

“Come,” Cregan motions you to him where he proceeds to introduce you to his friends who happen to all be just men around his age and yours. Which isn’t horrible, they remind you of your brothers, of Aemond, and even Aegon. Yes, even fucking Aegon!

They take some time, but soon grow comfortable around you and finally show their kind sides.

“Wine?” One of his friends named Rolf with the reddest head of hair asks.

You glance at the drink cautiously and slowly take it from his hand.

You’ve only drank it twice in your life; once because of Aegon, and the other because of your…father. You hated the taste both times.

And the third is no different.

“Yep,” you groan and crinkle your nose in disgust. “That’s still not good.”

The boys burst out laughing at your reaction and Rolf pokes at you. “Sorry, it’s not the fancy wine you’re used to Princess.”

You roll your eyes.

“You’ll grow to like it,” Cregan interjects a lot kinder. “Give it here, you can’t let it go to waste.” He motions for the cup, but you don’t pass it right away because it’s your cup. He wants to share your cup…

Well…

“You’ll drink it?” He presses.

Maybe sharing cups doesn’t hold the same meaning so far north, so you hand it to him and watch him sit right across from you, leaving the fire in between you, and leaving you uneasy because he’s so distant after he’s the one that brought you here and the only one you trust.

After all, this is a new land for you, undiscovered territory to your mind and very eyes. These are new people that make you grow shy, which isn't like you. You don't like it but you can’t help it. You can’t help feeling small for so long until suddenly you meet the only gaze you’re familiar with across the flames that dance in the middle.

His friends begin to tell ridiculous stories to try and impress you, but Cregan and you continue to just look at one another as if you’re the only ones there.

And it’s not until his friends grow drunker and begin to sing and dance that you get swept up by the moment and feel drunk yourself even if you had the single sip of wine. You smile and laugh, you clap along to their songs, and feel happy for the first time since learning of your father's passing.

“Come dance with me, princess,” Rolf asks.

You meet his green eyes and shake your head. “I can’t. I don’t know how to dance to these songs.”

He snorts. “Don’t you take dancing classes?”

You nod and he chuckles at the ground before he smiles brighter. “I’ll show you this dance then,” he tries to assure you.

You reach over for his hand but hesitate for a second until you remember what Cregan had just told you about living, and make yourself take Rolf’s hand.

The boy then takes no time tugging and spinning you around with him. He doesn’t fail to make you laugh and enjoy the night.

You didn’t want to stop dancing from there on out, but you grew tired quickly so you sat back down across Cregan. And once again you can’t help but meet his gaze, finding yourself feeling intrigued by him once again and that feeling is kind of exhilarating, your heart races again but now you also feel giddy. This time you offer him a soft smile as he sits across from you, and Cregan smiles back with a smile brighter than the flames.

——

*3 YEARS LATER*

Life in Winterfell hasn’t turned out to be as dull as you initially thought, or as bland as the stone walls that surround you. Especially with this mutiny happening.

“What's the meaning of this?” Lord Bennard asks as he takes a seat on the wooden throne at the end of the hall without hesitation and as if he didn't expect it. “Who called this meeting?” He presses with his black eyes searching the crowd before he finds his sons and the maester standing below the steps for an answer.

Murmurs spread around the room in confusion as the people gathered around the hall also don't know why they needed to be gathered around. You did albeit, you know the Lord's time on that throne has been long overdue. He knows that fact too, but he acts oblivious as he’s too driven by power.

“Me, I called the meeting uncle,” the answer interjects from the entrance, making the lord on the chair stiffen while the corner of your lips tug to a faint smirk, and your eyes drift to Cregan walking further in the hall wearing his silver armor, holding his great dark stealed Valyrian sword called Ice in hand, and wearing a stern expression that made his gray eyes brew like a powerful storm…and made your heart flutter.

He slowly stalks inside with an army of his men behind him, like a pack of wolves stalking their prey. His eyes then find you hidden amongst the crowd and your breath catches, but he doesn’t see that so you offer him a deeper smirk. And like always he doesn’t break that serious expression he carries, he never does in public, no.

Now that he’s older, as he’s ascending to his rightful place as Lord, he chooses to look stern to his people, but after years of living together and of being friends, you know him better, you make him smile in private.

“Your time as Lord has come to an end uncle. Stand down now,” Cregan booms out as he continues his path to his throne.

You follow him to the throne as you remain hidden within the crowd and never lose sight of his intimidating figure.

“I’m not dead yet boy,” Lord Bennard counters and digs his nails in the armrest.

You roll your eyes at his defiance, whilst you fold your arms over your chest as you continue to watch and judge the man.

Cregan raises his chin and stops as he reaches the bottom of the steps that lead to the throne his uncle sits on. “No, nor do I want you to meet such a fate out of respect for my father, your brother,” he argues. “But if you don’t give me what rightfully belongs to me then I will have no other choice but to show your sons what happens to traitors.”

Seeing this fight now actually makes you happy that you don’t have to inherit Driftmark, and makes you not even want to entertain the idea of fighting for the Throne that should have been passed to you. You’re fine now with what you’ll inherit.

“Stand down,” Cregan repeats and lifts his sword to point at his uncle, causing the Lord's sons to unsheath their own swords to point at Cregan.

“Stubborn man isn’t he?” Rolf whispers as he falls by you.

You keep your eyes on Cregan and hum softly. “Aren’t they all?” You remark. “But the old Lord is a coward, he wouldn’t dare fight Cregan.”

Rolf scoffs. “Who would? Only a fool.”

You smile softly in agreement and keep quiet to hear Cregan feign a chuckle. “I see,” he mutters and nods slowly. “Well. I won’t shed unnecessary blood, cousins. But if you, uncle, refuse to stand down then I have no choice, guards…arrest Bennard, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric Stark.”

The old and stubborn lord scoffs and shakes his head. “I am the Lord of this castle, stand down guards! And arrest Cregan and his friends! And lock Princess Velaryon in her chambers, this is no place for her.”

The guard appointed to you by your mother, and Rolf beside you pull out their swords, whilst you also reach for your hidden blade as the two guards loyal to Lord Bennard try to storm to you.

“Touch her,” Cregan counters immediately. “And I will cut all your hands off. She’s not yours to order around.”

The guards halt mid-way to you and look back at their Lord.

“Arrest my uncle,” Cregan repeats and puts his sword down.

The guards behind him break away from their spot and charge at Lord Bennard and his sons. The two guards try to fight back, but they easily get unarmed. The sons try to fight back too, but Cregan's look alone makes them stand down, leaving a clear path to Lord Bennard.

“I am sorry it had to come to this Uncle,” Cregan spats as he climbs the stairs and the guards pull Lord Bennard off the throne. “I hope you remember I showed you mercy.”

Lord Bennard gets yanked away with his sons, but he still finds a moment to argue out of spite. “This is what you call mercy? Having your uncle arrested?”

Cregan huffs. “Yes. If you wish to meet a different fate, speak now.”

Lord Bennard clenches his jaw and stops squirming. Without anything else to add the guards take him, his sons, and the guards away, leaving the room quiet as if everyone was holding their breath so they could focus on Cregan as he stops before the throne.

And now that no guards try to threaten you, you push through the crowd and stand at the front to watch Cregan as he touches the throne his father once sat on.

“Lord Cregan Stark!” You're the first one to cheer.

“Lord Cregan Stark!” Rolf follows by saying and then lifts his swords in the air.

“Lord Cregan Stark!” Some people echo before mirroring Rolf’s actions.

“Lord Cregan!” Others follow by saying, filling the room with support for the true Lord of Winterfell and the North, and making the man exhale deeply before he turns and sits on the throne once and for all with his chin high, and his expression serious and intimidating to spread fear to those who even entertain the idea of siding Lord Bennard. You, albeit grin regardless of his expression and clap your hands together out of joy.

Cregan hears you and quickly finds you first amongst the crowd, making his lips twitch to that rare smile he doesn’t let just anyone see, and you can’t help the heat that takes over your face; no matter how higher ranked you are, no matter how hidden you are, or what he is to you.

However, that slight, faintest smile you only saw vanishes, and his eyes dart to someone on the other side of the crowd. You follow his line of gaze and see him look at a young lady with beautiful long dark brown hair, with the most mesmerizing dark eyes, and the softest and palest skin.

She flashes him a flirty smile that makes your faint smile vanish and makes you lower your hands.

He quickly looks back at you again and swallows thickly. The young lady catches his wavered attention and searches for what his gaze fixated on and finds you, the princess, daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, The Realms Golden girl, the Siren of Driftmark, and the most beautiful rose the North possesses.

Yet when you feel her curious gaze and slowly lock eyes across the room she doesn’t seem discontent, or caught off guard. She might mask her displeasure well, but she smiles at you, while other feelings begin to infiltrate through you, a feeling so intense that it makes your stomach begin to twist with a bitter feeling, something venomous and new. Yet you can identify what it is exactly…

Maybe…jealousy?

Stupid and unnecessary jealousy.

The crush you have on Cregan is stupid, it grew when you were young and stupid and it will lead to nothing. Your friendship will remain as it is because he’s your friend and you’re promised to another, to Aemond, your best friend, and a man you’re…eager to marry—even if he stopped writing a year ago and no longer responds to any of your ravens.

You’re just a ward—no, you were a ward because that lady is no longer the Lady of the North, so you’ll be returning to King's Landing soon. Away from Cregan.

Your crush means nothing.

“Come,” Rolf cuts you off from your train of thought and the shattering of your illusions. “He’ll make oaths now in front of the Heart Tree.”

You flash Cregan a strained smile before you look away and exhale deeply, and frown.

He’s just a friend, the longing looks you share every night means nothing.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

That girl…who might she be? She seems familiar, it feels like you’ve seen her once or twice over the past three years, but your mind can’t fully recall.

Why did she smile at him like that? And why did he look so nervous about it?

Has he mentioned her before?

She's very pretty. She looks like a true Northerner, something you’re not.

She’s like him, you’re not.

But…he doesn't smile at her the way he smiles at you, and you don't mean smile with his lips so the entire North can see, you mean smile with his gray eyes that shine brighter when he finds you in the crowd of people, when you tell a particularly funny joke when you’re surrounded by others, or when he simply just looks at you.

And yes, you do see the way he looks at you, you pay attention to everything happening around you here in Winterfell, you have to because you’re not in the safety of your home after all, so you know well he looks at you in the way you always wanted to be looked at. He looks at you the way Ser Harwin looked at your mother all the time. You also feel the tension, you know you pass lingering looks with one another. But…it doesn’t matter because it has never been acted upon because it’s a stupid crush and he knows you’re promised to another.

That’s why she shouldn’t matter. Whoever she is.

You like Aemond, you love Aemond. Yes…

You draw out a deep sigh and gently stroke the barn cat on your lap, whilst your handmaidens help you prepare for bed. You then look away from the cat on your lap and look out the balcony to look at the starry sky, and it’s as you do that you notice something hidden in the shadows of the night, a single rare Blue Winter rose on the railing of your balcony, meaning only one thing, Cregan wants to talk tonight.

You smile regardless of your running thoughts just a few seconds ago and lift your head to address the girls. “All right girls that’s it for tonight, thank you and goodnight.”

You have no idea what it is they were doing, you weren’t paying attention, but it doesn’t matter.

“Are you sure?” One of your handmaidens double-checks.

You nod quickly as you put the cat down and push yourself up from the chair in front of the vanity to face them with a sweet innocent smile. “Goodnight ladies. See you on the Morrow.”

The three handmaidens share a puzzled look with one another, but they don’t fail to listen and do as you ask of them.

It’s only when their footsteps recede down the hall that you spin around on your heels and rush over to pull your cloak out of your closet. Usually, Cregan tells you to meet him beforehand, or he leaves the beautiful winter rose on your balcony earlier so you know to change out of your nightgown, but today was one of the times he didn’t inform you with time—Not like you actually care that you’re in your nightgown albeit. He doesn’t either.

Therefore, after you blow off some candles that light your quarters, you climb down the greenery that’s underneath your balcony and sneak away to your meeting spot with Cregan that's past the castle walls.

However, when you get where you need to be he’s not here…

He’s always here first.

Perhaps he just got caught up. He should be celebrating over his acesention anyway. You’ll wait for him…here in the dark woods…all alone.

You swallow thickly and scan the area with the inside of your cheek between your teeth.

Moments of pure silence pass before suddenly you're startled by twigs snapping behind you. When you immediately turn around you see nothing.

Its nothing! You exhale deeply out of relief.

However, just as that fear is passing, arms slap on your shoulders and a quiet “boo,” is said by your ear, causing you to jump and quickly spin around. That’s when you see Cregan. He was the one that scared you like a creep.

“What’s your problem,” you sneer and shove Cregan back as he bursts out laughing. “You frightened me!”

You reach over to push him back again, but he then catches your wrists and shakes his head. “I’m Lord Cregan now, you can’t do that,” he says quite quieter than usual.

You shoot him a glare and pull your arms away to counter back sassily. “And I’m a Princess, I outrank you, so I can do as I please, Lord Cregan,” you tease and curtsy.

Cregan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that,” he addresses your curtsy.

You chuckle and clasp your hands behind you while you pull your lips to a happy smile. “Now really, why aren’t you celebrating with your friends? I would have imagined you would be drinking now.”

Cregan flashes you a smile and quickly argues back. “I am celebrating with you, my friend.”

You hum and turn to walk deeper into the woods, causing Cregan to follow right beside you. “I suppose,” you interject a bit quieter but with none of that teasing tone he greeted you with.

“This might be our last night with each other.” You mention and lose your smile before drifting your eyes over to him, which ends up with you meeting his gaze right away since he is already looking at you. “With Lady Karstark no longer Lady of Winterfell, I have no place here, I’ll depart to King’s Landing shortly and live with the insufferable Queen.”

Cregan holds your gaze and without hesitation brings up an unheard-of plan, “or you can stay until you have to leave in two years. I am Lord, I can say the word and you’ll stay.”

You scoff and shake your head. “No, I won’t. You know why, you’re a man and I’m a woman, I can’t be your ward. Nor will I reduce myself to being your cupbearer.”

Cregan drops his gaze and doesn’t say anything on the matter, you don’t press him either. Instead, you smile at him and hook your arm around his. “I will say that being here has been good, it’s been the best years of my life. I’ve learned a lot.”

Cregan’s lips pull to a faint smile before he meets your gaze to share that soft look. “So are you saying you’d stay?” He queries.

You giggle and shrug. “Well, I do miss the warmth. And the ocean.”

Cregan chuckles. “I could take you to see the ocean. I could find hot springs for you so you’d be warm. Even lasso the sun and have it shine over the castle.”

You giggle softly and feel glad he can’t see how hot your face is burning.

“Or what?” He quips. “Do you still want to leave? Explore this world? Be free?”

He remembers.

“I have everything don’t I? I have wealth, I’m a Princess, I have a dragon.” You share a completely different mindset than what you had three years ago when you were both strangers.

“What else could I want?” You mutter.

If your younger self heard you now she’d be shocked and in disbelief. Mad too that your dreams were robbed from your hearts chamber.

“But?” Cregan presses. He knows you too well.

“But,” you add and look up at the sky. “Nothing…”

Your younger self need not worry because the part of you that wants to see the world, that wants to fly in the endless sky with your dragon still lives within you. You’re just learning to push her away. Slowly.

So regardless of that, Cregan keeps his gaze on you regardless of your answer, he watches as you admire the sky with a gleaming gaze. He knows you now, he knows that you still dream of being far, and he knows you want more, you have yet to learn what he’s been trying to teach you, to accept what you are, find what you want with what you have. Because it’s there, what you seek, you just need to learn to see it as he has. He can show you though.

“I want to show you something,” Cregan interjects, intriguing your curiosity.

“What?” You query with a giddy smile.

“Not here,” he says and stops to face you.

You begin to squint your gaze on him and he continues.

“It’s close. Albeit if we want to make it back by sunrise we…” he pauses and licks his lips. “We need to take your dragon.”

You grow even more intrigued now. “Astraea?” You probe with a giddy grin. “You want us to go on dragonback?”

Cregan hesitates but eventually nods. “It will be worth it.”

——

*LATER*

Perhaps this was a dream, Cregan riding on Astraea with you.

Perhaps you need to be more wary of why you keep flying further north, why in the distance is the notorious wall that keeps away the wildlings, and what lies further North.

Yet, even if it is a dream, it’s the most amazing dream you’ve had and one you never want to wake up from. For one, Cregan for some reason wants to ride behind you. Two, the big beautiful white moon glows against the dark night sky, and three, the sky from this part of this world seems endless like the sea. If you could, you'd just keep flying.

However, the moment you get close to the tall ice wall, Cregan tells you to land. You don't question him even if you should and just nudge the handles on the saddle down so Astraea can land on the ground.

Albeit just as your purple dragon tilts, Cregan interjects. “No, on the wall. Land on the wall if you can.”

You peer back at him to meet his gaze and show your doubt.

“Trust me,” he assures you.

You hesitate for a second before you exhale and nudge Astraea up, causing her to change course and instead swoop back up. When she lands on the wall, Cregan carefully climbs down first, and you hesitate to get down now, feeling all eagerness blown away by the sharp and icy that run so high up.

“Come on now,” Cregan encourages you.

You tighten your grip on the handles and narrow your gaze to share a quizzical look with Cregan. “What’s the meaning of this? Why have you flown with me? No one ever does. Why are we here?” You press with suspicion.

Cregan scoffs in amusement and just waves you down again. “Just climb down Princess you’ll see.”

You look down at the wall that stands probably thousands of feet from the ground and question if you really want to stand on it.

What if it just breaks? Or if something more horrible happens?

Yett…Cregan says to trust him, and you do, he won’t hurt you—you hope…what if he’s actually crazy?

Damn…

You let go of the handles and swing your foot over the saddle to climb down to the wall. “<Stay,>” you command Astraea in High Valyrian and then face the man who promised safety. “Now,” you add with a questioning look. “Tell me why you brought me here. Are we running away?”

You know it wasn’t a possibility, he cares too much about his people and his responsibility as Lord, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“No,” Cregan shakes his head.

You furrow your eyebrows and narrow your gaze further. “Then?” You press. “Why—”

“Just come,” he cuts you off and grabs your hand to pull you away from the safety of your dragon side to drag you with him towards the other edge of the wall.

“Cregan,” you call out in a shaky voice. “What are you doing? It’s too—”

“You fly a dragon, and said you climbed on the roofs of your castle,” he cuts you off again. “What’s the difference?”

You dig your heels into the ground to stop him from moving you and yank your arm away from his grasp so he won’t move you any closer. “What’s the difference?” You counter and throw your arms out. “My dragon keeps me safe, she wouldn’t let me fall! And the roofs curved! This-this is just flat! What if we slip? No.” You shake your head. “I won’t go closer.”

Cregan rolls his eyes and sighs before he stomps over to you. “I won’t let you fall,” he adds for assurance but it’s not so assuring. “I’ll be with you, grabbing you the entire time. I just want you to see what lies beyond the wall. I just want you to feel what you seek.”

Right away that fear begins to fade away and disbelief eases your hardened gaze but also brings curiosity that makes you approach him.

Cregan smiles softly at your willingness. “Close your eyes and don’t open until I tell you.” He tells you as he takes your hand.

Without a doubt, you shut your eyes and let him walk you further ahead. You trust him and don’t stop now, you just grip tighter onto him as the wind keeps trying to push you back.

He eventually brings you to stop and you want to open your eyes, but he stops you. “Not yet.”

You draw out a small and inpatient breath, but also begin to feel your heart race with how nervous you actually feel because of this anticipation he fills you with. He then proceeds to walk behind you without letting go, and you grab onto him as he slides his hand over to hold the other one so he can also grab your waist.

The touch makes your breath catch and tempts you to open your eyes to look at his hand on your wrist, but you keep strong and keep them closed, instead, you just think of his touch.

“Okay,” he whispers in your ear. “Open your eyes now.”

You do as he says and immediately gasp as you see the land that resides beyond the great ice wall, as you see how peaceful and hauntingly beautiful it all looks. You smile with awe as you see how the ice and snow glimmer, how tall the mountains stand, and how small the tall trees look from here.

Now that that land further north seems truly endless, yours and everything you’ve seen feels small in comparison.

Now as the wind tries to push you back all you can do is let your body go because Cregan is behind you, because at this very moment, you finally feel what you’ve sought for, freedom.

As the wind pushes you back, as you dangle off the ledge you feel free.

“Is it everything you've ever hoped for?” Cregan asks softly. “I know I truly can’t give you what your heart desires, but does this satisfy your desire?”

You nod softly and muse. “It does.”

Will that last though?

You'll see.

“You aren't trapped princess,” he adds. “Perhaps you’re not as free as you’d want to be, but you are free to do what you please because of your title as Princess. You just need to learn how to take control of it from your position.”

You hum softly and drift your gaze to the corner of your eyes to meet his gaze, noticing how insanely close you are now. You can feel his breath unfurl over your skin, and feel the warmth of his lips behind your ear.

“Will you show me?” You whisper unwarrantedly, your desire just took over. “Like you did now.”

Cregan glances at your lips and then meets your gaze and nods. “I can.” He assures you.

You smile softly, and then steal a glance at his lips. You let your gaze linger there for a second, whilst his own gaze lingers on your own lips, albeit he doesn’t look away like you do, he watches you move them to ask him a question. “What do you want? We always ask about me, but what about you? I mean besides wanting to be Lord, is there something else?”

Cregan lets out a soft breath and nods. “You,” he answers without a minute to think, causing you to gasp out of disbelief because you’re actually hearing him admit it.

This goes far beyond your wildest dreams. You can’t believe you’re hearing it, and you turn around without thinking about the ledge to look at him with that disbelief.

Cregan swiftly pulls you away from the ledge whilst he continues to explain it to your disbelieved heart. “I try, I try with all my might to stop thinking about you, but” he pauses and shakes his head. “I can’t. Ever since I met you I knew you were special, that you were meant to be mine. And I know you feel what I do, there’s no need denying it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head before you counter. “But you can’t. I’m promised to another.”

“And I’m to be married to someone else…”

What?

It’s that lady, isn’t it?

“Who?” You ask right away, letting your jealousy show.

Cregan swallows thickly and averts his gaze. “Lady Arra Norrey. My father made a promise to hers, one I can’t break. But she means nothing, we will perform our duties, but that’s it because I want you.” He tries to assure your worry whilst he reaches for your cheeks.

However, you push his hands away and shake your head.“I can't do that to her. I,” you scoff and turn away from him. “No matter how much I burn for you I can’t.”

Cregan’s breath catches at your confession, encouraging him to reach for your arm and pull you around to face him. “She knows. She knows. You won’t hurt her.”

And that smile she gave him? That nervous look he gave you?

“I saw it,” you blurt and push his arm away.

“Saw what, my darling?” He presses.

You draw in a deep breath. “Her smile,” you breathe out. “Will you tell me she feels nothing for you? Can you tell me that?” You ask and meet his gaze with tears forming in your eyes.

Cregan stays quiet for a moment before he shrugs. “I can’t control what she feels, but she knows, that’s all that matters. She’ll keep our secret.” He then reaches for your cheeks again and you let him cup them this time. “She’ll let you be her ward so you can stay.”

“Stay?” You repeat. “I won’t stay forever Cregan. I’m destined to leave two years from now. What then? We pretend like it never happened? How do you expect me to leave then?”

“Then we part ways,” he mutters. “You marry your prince, I stay here, at least I’ll be satisfied knowing I lived some of my life with you. Can’t you say the same? Isn’t that what you want? Freedom? Don’t torture me by leaving now.” He says beautiful words you never thought him capable of before he presses his forehead against yours and begins to caress your cheeks. “End my agony,” he continues to tug at your heart. “And be mine for however long we have.”

It’ll hurt far worse when you leave, knowing you’ll never see him again, but he makes your heart flutter, he fills you with happiness because he tries to give you what you want with what you have. He watches you the way you want to be looked at, he cares for you and makes you burn.

You want him and you want control of your own life, freedom. Going back to King's landing now will bring that to an end, Cregan is willing to give you that and so much more. The pain will be worth it.

“Okay,” you give in foolishly perhaps. “Okay. Let me be yours for however long we have.” You grin and glance at his lips whilst you cup his jaw.

Cregan beams at you and without hesitation, he pulls you in for your first kiss, for a deep and passionate kiss that sets you on fire.

The taste of his lips makes you melt into his hands. Once again you feel free, and now it’s with him.

.

.

.

.

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Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne

[damn-stark]

Currently writing chapter 9 of moonlight and it’s just Jacaerys and mc having the time of their lives in winterfell…

Spoilers :)

[damn-stark]

[damn-stark]

Moonlight chapter 11 spoilers!!

[damn-stark]

What did you think?!

Part 8 The never changing fate & The friends who never say goodbye

Chapter 8 of The Lion and The Dragon

A/N- I’m sorry to say but after this chapter I will put this story on hiatus since it follows the show plot line :( but there is small inquiring at the end so read the story and find out :)

Warning- Violence, blood, talks of baby stuff & death, fluff, Aegon, forced marriage, swearing, ANGST

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x fem!Lannister reader

Episode- 1x09 & 1x10

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

The early breeze was bitter, but soft as it traveled through the windows creaks. There was darkness as the last candle light was blown off, leaving hints of smoke in the air. There was an unshakable solemn silence, but that was quickly broken by the cry of the baby.

You slowly open your eyes to begin trying to get up and walk to the crying babe, but before you can even push yourself off the bed, Aemond gets up first to reach her. And it seems that at the mere sight of him Visenya goes quiet, Aemond proceeds to mumble something in Valyrian before he returns to the bed to lay the baby in between him and you.

When he lays back down you meet his gaze through the darkness and offer him a small smile before he cradles your cheek and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead. He then stays there close by you, close to Visenya, and keeps you both in his arms. You close your eyes as you’re in the comfort of his embrace to try and go back to sleep, but a knock then raps on the door.

When Aemond walks over to open the door for the early morning visitor, you hear a soft yet panicked voice. “Lady Y/N is needed for an urgent council meeting by her Majesty the Queen.”

The sun is not even out yet, what could have happened that it could not wait?

Regardless, you go, no matter how early it is, and it seems all the other Lords share the same confusion when they enter the meeting room.

“You my dear niece,” your uncle Tyland says as you both walk towards the table with the other Lords. “Do you happen to know the matter for this early meeting?”

You shake your head. “No,” you answer truthfully and notice Alicent already at her seat at the end of the table; her hair is down, and theirs this look in her eyes, a sad one that makes you feel pit in your stomach.

“Good morning,” you greet her softly once you reach her side.

Alicent looks up at you and tries to offer you the best faint smile she can muster. “Good morning, y/n. I am sorry for pulling you from your bed so early.”

You scoff softly and shake your head. “Do not worry, Visenya had just woken us up.”

“Well,” she sighs. “I am happy you could make it.”

You offer her a soft smile before grabbing the orbs and giving them to each Lord that takes his seat.

“What is it that could have not waited an hour?” Your uncle asks the council. “Was Dorne invaded?”

A silence follows briefly before it is broken by the Lord Hand. “The King is dead.”

You go rigid and feel your breath catch in your throat. That’s why Alicent had such a glum look, why this meeting was called so early.

It was inevitable, the King’s death, but it doesn’t mean it’s still not sad. Mostly because Aemond just lost his father. Sure he might have not been so great to Aemond, but the King was his father nonetheless, and he was the King.

Now….

Now everything is going to change.

“We grieve for Viserys the Peaceful,” the Hand continues to say. “Our sovereign…our friend…”

You drop your head and swallow thickly.

“…But he has left us a gift. With his last breath, he impressed upon the Queen his final wish: that his son Aegon…should succeed him as Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You slowly lift your head as you feel slight disbelief over this news.

It's like Aemond said, it was always the plan to make Aegon King over his sister, but one thing you knew, one thing a lot of people knew but chose to ignore is how much the King loved his first born daughter. He never changed the heir because of that same love, so why would he say that now? On his dying breath?

Did he really have some change of heart before the gods took him?

“Then we may proceed now with the full assurance of his blessing on our long laid plans,” your uncle interjects in the silence.

“Yes,” the Lord Hand answers and moves from his spot beside Alicent to walk to his seat. “There is much to be done as we've previously discussed. Now, there are two among the captains of the City Watch that remain loyal to Daemon, let us remove them. Lord Lannister.”

“The treasury is well in hand,” he answers, causing you to slightly squint your eyes in confusion since this is nothing you have heard discussed before—“the gold will be divided for safekeeping.”

“Let ravens be sent to our allies, Riverrun and Highgarden,” the Lord Hand adds.

“Am I to understand that members of the small council have been planning secretly to install my son without me?” Alicent finally asks as her own confusion and disbelief passes.

Lord Wylde at her side sighs and answers for her father. “My Queen, there was no need to sully you with darkling schemes.”

You scoff under your breath in defense for Alicent.

No need to sully her? If it’s her who has also wanted her son to be King? How pathetic of them. All of them.

“I will not have this,” Lord Beesbury interjects. “To hear that you are planning to replace the King’s chosen heir. With an imposter?”

“His firstborn son is hardly an imposter,” your uncle chimes in.

“Hundreds of Lords and landed Knights swore fealty to the Princess,” Lord Beesbury continues. As if that was going to change anyone’s mind.

“That was some twenty years ago,” your uncle argues. “Most of them now dead.”

He is right, but you also understand the old Lord's argument. Mayhaps if you had not been married to Aemond, you would have supported Princess Rhaenrya—it’s just to have a Woman on the throne? That would have been an actual dream come true, but alas you are faithful to your husband, to your new family, and to your old one, so you support them. Always.

“You heard the Lord Hand,” Lord Wylde adds. “Plot or no, the King changed his mind.”

At the sound of the comment Lord Beesbury stands up from his chair to make himself heard. “I am six-and-seventy years old, I have known Viserys longer than any of you who sit at this table. And I will not believe that he said this on his deathbed, alone, with only the-the boys mother as a witness.”

You scoff and step towards the table to narrow your gaze on the old man and then interject. “Lord Beesbury, are you calling your Queen a liar?”

Eyes snap to you, but quickly snap to the Lord to wait for what he would have to say in response.

“Th…this is seizure!” Lord Beesbury answers. “It is theft! It is treason! At the least, it is—”

“Mind your tongue, Lyman,” the Grand Maester cuts him off.

But to no avail.

“The King was well last night…”

You huff out softly and catch Ser Criston walk over behind the Lord as he continues with his ballsy accusations.

“…by all accounts. Which of you here can swear that he died of his own accord?” He asks.

You lift your head and continue to interject. “Who are you accusing of regicide Lord Beesbury?”

“Whether it was one of you, or all of you,” Lord Beesbury continues to throw out. “I care not. I will have no part—”

Before Lord Beesbury can finish Ser Criston approaches him and exclaims, “sit down!” Before he shoves the old Lord down to his seat, causing the man to hit his head against the table so hard that he instantly dies at impact.

You gasp softly and step back out of shock to what just happened, to what you just heard and saw.

And once the shock passes, Ser Harrold unsheathes his sword and points it to Ser Criston, before approaching him and making your uncle get out of his chair to get out of their way.

“Throw down your sword and remove your cloak, Ser Criston,” the Knight orders.

In response Ser Criston pulls out his sword and points to his Lord Commander.

“I am your Lord Commander, Ser Criston,” the Knight continues. “Cast down your sword.”

“I will not suffer insults to Her Grace the Queen,” Ser Criston argues.

“There was no insult to me, Ser Criston. Y-Put aside your blade,” Alicent interjects. And without a fault Ser Criston does so, letting the other Knight slowly put down his sword and return to his previous spot as he begins to protest.

“Has it come to this?”

“Lord Commander, enough,” the Lord Hand interjects, and the Knight doesn’t argue and puts away his blade, letting the Grand Maester now stand from his chair.

“Let us have Lord Beesbury removed,” he suggests.

“No,” the Lord Hand snaps. “The door remains shut until we finish our business.”

The Grand Maester meets the Hands gaze and doesn’t argue either, he sits back down and lets the meeting continue as it was before the incident.

“Storm's End is of concern,” your uncle interjects only once he has sat back down. “We may not assume the loyalty of Lord Borros.” He then meets your gaze and says, “but he does have a newborn son, the right proposal—”

“What of Rhaenyra?” Alicent cuts him off, and pulls your uncle's gaze away, but you continue to focus on your uncle, on his suggestion that you knew he meant to you with his shared look alone.

There is a s possiblity be could be referring to Helaena’s daughter, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze when he mentioned his concern and proposal. He…He wants to marry off Visenya, without even talking to you about it? She’s just a baby. She’s just a four month old baby. No. No.

No!

“You mean to imprison her?” You hear Alicent ask once you focus back on the meeting so as to not let your anger distract you right now.

“She and her family will be given the opportunity to publicly swear obeisance to the new King,” the Lord Hand explains to her, letting you in on who he was referring to right away; the Princess.

“She will never bend the knee,” Alicent argues. “Nor will Daemon, which you know.”

Her father goes silent and she sighs before grasping what you knew already.

“You plan to kill them?” Alicent asks, and no one answers. “And all of you accede to this?”

“Your father is correct, your Grace,” the Grand Maester interjects for everyone. “A living challenger invites battle and bloodshed.”

“It is unsavory, yes,” the Lord Hand chimes in. “But a sacrifice we must make to secure Aegon’s succession, and then there is Daemon to consider. The King wouldn’t wish for an unsavory—”

“The King did not wish for the murder of his daughter!” Alicent cuts him off angrily.

But he is right. As sad as it is to admit. It’s only if they’re dead that it can all happen right. But you know that they won’t go without a fight.

“He loved her. I will not have you deny this,” she continues.

“And yet—”

“One more word, and I will have you removed from this chamber and sent to the wall!” She cuts off Lord Wylde whilst she gets out of her chair, causing him to go quiet and for the room to fall in a tense silence for a brief moment before your uncle interrupts.

“What do you suggest, Your Grace?”

Alicent looks over at your uncle and just sighs in response, letting her father cut in. “Time is of the essence.”

Alicent continues not to answer, so her father continues.

“Lord Commander Westerling take your Knights to Dragonstone. Be quick and be clean.”

Yet the old Knight doesn’t leave or follow orders, he proceeds to take off his cloak and puts it on the table to resign, saying he has no place there until there is a King. However, you all knew he objected because of his loyalty, otherwise he would have done it and been faithful like Ser Criston. But alas he left with no other objection, nor an objection from anyone else.

The meeting then continued for a bit longer with talk about allies and more plans, nothing interested you more though than what your uncle tried to suggest before. He didn’t bring it up again, but you still thought back to it and hated the idea. Visenya was a baby, your baby, your only daughter she…

She can’t be matched already.

“Y/N…”

She’s just a baby…

“Y/N,” the Queen's voice breaks you from your train of thought as you walk out of the meeting room.

“Yes?” You probe and glance at her.

Alicent comes to a stop, and you mirror her action to then face her.

“Do not tell anyone besides Aemond what you heard in that chamber, all right?”

Without hesitation you nod. “Of course.”

She sighs and grabs your arm with one hand. “Please will you do me the favor of telling him? I will tell Helaena, but please tell Aemond.”

You nod softly in agreement. “I will,” you assure her. And before long you depart and go your separate ways.

The moment you get in your chambers, it’s still quiet, Aemond is awake and watching Visenya sleep in her crib. He likes to do that, watch her sleep just to make sure she’s breathing and safe. If he could he would watch her sleep for hours, that’s why he liked to have her sleep in your shared quarters, he said no one could keep her safer than him.

He’s a good father, it’s surprising and fascinating. Admirable too, considering he didn’t have such a good one.

“Aemond,” you make yourself known.

Said man turns around and meets you by the entrance of the room to grab your arms before cupping your cheek to stroke it gently. “What did the council want that could not wait?”

You slowly lower your gaze and sigh. And Aemond right away notices your conflict without having to be said anything.

“What is it?” He insists.

You slowly meet his gaze and frown deeper before grabbing his hand and pulling him out to the balcony. When you come to stop, Aemond keeps his gaze on you and waits patiently, but in concern.

“Aemond,” you finally manage to say and grab his arms. “It’s your father,” you continue slowly and quietly. “He passed away last night.”

Aemond stiffens and drops his gaze. You don’t add anything else, you give him time to process the news, you let him step back and turn to watch the sight of the town miles below the window, but stay there. You watch him grip onto the railing and drop his head, making long strands of his silver-white hair fall over his face.

Silence is such a common thing that it doesn’t usually bother you, you actually quite enjoy he’s not as loud as his brother is, or as loud as your siblings once were, you like his calm and soft spoken persona. But now? After giving him the news about his father, the long silence begins to unsettle you rather quickly even if you were willing to wait just seconds ago.

“Aemond,” you break the silence and grab his hand. “Talk to me.”

Said man let’s out a deep sigh and picks up his head. “My father…” he pauses and turns to face you. “He was never much of one to me or my siblings. No one could compare to his first born…” he pauses again and slowly meets your gaze, showing off a saddened look in his gaze. “Yet…” he trails off.

Your heartstrings churn at the sight of his look, at the sound of his soft voice, so you gently brush his hair back before caressing his cheeks and pulling him for an embrace. Aemond quickly returns the hug and balls the material of your dress in his hands, making you press a kiss on the side of his head before you squeeze him tighter.

“My mother,” he says and breaks the short silence. “Where is she?” He pulls away and grabs your arms to wait for an answer.

“With Helaena,” you tell him. “She was going to tell Helaena the news.”

He hums and breaks away to grab his eyepatch and tie his hair back, before going to Visenya and leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask him as you walk back inside.

Aemond looks up from the crib and nods, making you bring in the handmaidens so they can take Visenya to the children’s room before you follow Aemond to Helaena’s room.

“What else was said at the meeting?” Aemond asks.

You eye the people that pass by and whisper. “I will tell you when we reach your mother. I can not say now, but I can say one thing.” You slowly come to stop and clench your hands into fists. Aemond slowly comes to a stop and turns to face you with confusion.

“What is it?” He queries.

Your eyes fill with angry tears and you have to swallow back thickly before sharing the news. “My uncle made a suggestion today at the meeting regarding Visenya.”

Aemond blinks and clenches his jaw.

“He said that in order to secure The Baratheon’s alliance,” you continue. “We should make a proposal since Lord Borros has a newborn son. My uncle didn’t say if it would be Visenya or Jaehaera, but that’s what they want to do.”

Aemond sighs and closes the gap between you to grab one arm and hold your chin. “Visenya is a princess,” he says as if he can read your mind. “It will be her duty to be married off.”

You shake your head. “She’s just a baby,” you argue.

Aemond grabs your face with both hands and leans his face closer to yours. “She will not be a baby forever.”

“But,” you try to continue inputting but he shakes his head and cuts you off.

“No, my love, let us not discuss this here. Besides it has not been decided yet, it won’t be until we have a say in it.”

You drop your gaze and don’t say anything, you just look at the ground and sigh. He takes that as a sign to drop the conversation and pulls away to continue towards his sister's room. Of course you follow, and once you reach the room, both his sister and mother immediately look up at him in pity.

“I’ve heard,” Aemond says to his mother.

Alicent gets off her seat and walks up to Aemond, whilst you walk over to Helaena at the couch.

“There is a beast beneath the boards,” she says once you sit down beside her.

You hum softly and add, “I’m sorry about your father, Helaena.”

Said girl looks up from her stitching and meets your gaze with a soft smile. “Thank you,” she says. “Do you want to see my stitching?”

You nod and lean over as she shows off the spider she’s been stitching—-“that’s excellent,” you compliment her. “I like it. You have yet to show me how to stitch a spider.”

Helaena smiles at you and puts her things on her lap. “Soon I hope, if time is in our favor,” she says.

“Y/N,” Aemond calls.

You look over at him and he points to the door with his head, making you grab Helaena’s hands to end the short conversation. “We will speak later, yes?”

Helaena nods in agreement, so you get up and bid her a goodbye before you follow Aemond to his mothers quarters to privately discuss what was said, and what happened in the early morning meeting. All whilst Alicent waited for news on Aegon’s whereabouts.

It seems he hasn’t been seen anywhere in the castle, so Alicent sent Ser Criston to investigate, and you waited with Aemond until he heard some news. And it’s the wait that made you want to discuss with Aemond about what he put on hold earlier since Alicent was in the same room. But with all the tension that there was as they waited for news, bringing up your subject didn’t seem right yet.

So instead you choose to wait in silence with them, you let Aemond take your hand as you sit by the fireplace together.

“Mother,” Aemond speaks up in their wait.

Alicent hums so Aemond can continue.

“What is this I hear about Ser Tyland wanting to match one of the girls with Lord Borro’s son?”

Or it will be discussed now.

Alicent pushes herself off her chair, and from the corner of your eye you catch her gaze—“it was brought up,” she explains. “But, I cut him off with other matters before he could finish.”

Aemond hums. “Next time I want matters about my daughter discussed with both y/n and I present. Nothing will be decided without our consent,” he says, causing you to snap your gaze towards him in slight shock.

“Of course,” Alicent doesn’t hesitate to agree.

Aemond glances over and catches your stare. He then proceeds to lift your hand to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles. “<Do not worry,” he adds in Valyrian. “I will take care of it.>”

You let out a slow sigh and nod in comprehension.

Only seconds later there's a knock on the door before Ser Criston walks in.

“Prince Aegon’s not to be found within the castle walls. Your Grace,” Ser Criston announces as he enters. “Your father has sent Ser Erryk into the city to find him.”

“Ser Erryk knows Aegon. He has the advantage,” Alicent says before you hear her footsteps recede from where Aemond and you are. “I trust again to you, Ser Criston, and to your loyalty. Aegon must be found and he must be brought to me. The very fate of the Seven Kingdoms depends on it…”

Her voice trails off, but when you look back you see Alicent leaned in closer to Ser Criston. You try to make out what they’re saying, but Aemond then interjects.

“I’ll come with you,” he volunteers himself.

“That will not be my desire, Aemond,” his mother argues as she turns and approaches him as he gets up to meet her halfway. “If anything has happened—”

You get out of your chair and face them.

“Cole needs me, Mother,” Aemond counters. “Ser Erryk isn’t the only one who knows Aegon's doings.”

Alicent looks over at the Knight for reassurance. And you see him right away give it to her, letting Aemond turn to face you now.

“I need you, my love,” he says and walks over to grab your arms. “For whatever reason we cannot find him in the Street of Silk, I’ll need you and the information you receive from your…little birds.”

You smile with pride and gratitude. “Alright,” you assure him. “I'll take Ser Erwin with me then,”

Aemond clenches his jaw and drops his gaze as he hesitates.

“Unless you wish me to go alone,” you bring up. “I am more than happy to do so.”

Aemond’s eyes flicker up to you and he sighs. “Fine, take your Golden Knight.” He smirks. “Don’t let him get harmed,” he quips.

You grin. “I’ll keep him safe and I’ll find your brother,” you assure him even if losing Aegon wouldn’t be such a disgrace—“we will find him,” you say and look to Alicent. “I swear.”

Aemond pulls away and you both leave the room to go to your quarters and put on clothes that blend in more within the city. After you get Ser Erwin to agree, and you all begin to head out of the castle gates, there is one man who doesn’t seem so comforted by you tagging along.

“My Prince, are you sure you want your Lady Wife to come along?” Ser Criston interjects. “The city is a dangerous place.”

You scoff and Aemond immediately responds, “you need not worry, Ser Criston, you and I both know y/n is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Ser Criston doesn’t answer with anything, he just takes in what was said and accepts Aemond’s choice as the gates of the castle open, and let you all walk out.

Before you could go your separate ways albeit, Aemond stops to address you. “We’ll meet here once we find anything,” he informs you.

You nod. “Okay, be careful.”

Aemond hums and presses a kiss on your forehead before he turns and walks off with Ser Criston, leaving you with your Golden Knight.

“Where is it you’re going first, my Lady?” Ser Erwin asks.

You begin to lead him down the street and peer over at him. “Uhm, a tavern at Flea bottom. I have friends who work there.”

“Flea bottom?” He asks if you were just jestering.

You nod. “Yes. They work at the castle too, they’re the people who you pass by without taking a second glance. People who don’t call attention to themselves, and are forgotten.” You offer him a smirk and pull your hood further over your face the further you walk down the streets of Kings Landing.

And unfortunately much to your craving for some excitement, Ser Erwin and you make it to the tavern without trouble. It seems being seen accompanied by a man doesn’t invite the attention of disgusting men.

“You can sit,” you tell Ser Erwin as you take your hood off once you’re inside the tavern. “I won’t take long.”

Ser Erwin glances around and studies each dirt covered man and woman, every person with blades attached to their hips, and spots every gawking stare.

“I’m not so sure I feel comfortable with you by yourself,” he whispers.

You lean in closer to him and offer him a mischievous smirk before assuring him. “Do not worry, no one here will hurt me. Everyone in this tavern is my friend.” You step back. “Everyone here would take a sword for me Ser, they’re fellow tourney companions, friends from the castle, and associates.”

“Is that what we are?” You hear a familiar sweet voice cut in, in her thick Dornish accent. “You wound me, Lady Lion.”

Your lips turn to a happy grin and when you turn you see your friend, Yvette; her shiny mischievous smile, her alluring dark brown eyes, and her short wavy hair that still doesn’t go past her ears.

“You know exactly that’s not we are,” you tell her right away and leave Ser Erwin’s side to approach the bar and take her forearm as she takes yours.

Yvette snickers and nods. “I was just jesting.”

“Ser!” Someone exclaims beside you in a booming and graveling voice.

You look over and see a fellow Knight over the bar. “Hedge,” you greet with a smile.

“Have you come here with your Husband?” He asks excitedly.

You shake your head. “No, he's busy today. Actually I came here for something. Eyes and ears.”

“Aw, I hoped I’d meet the great Aemond Targaryen who lets his Highborn Lady Wife wield a sword—you have a dragon yet?”

You sigh. “No, only in my dreams.”

Hedge grabs his large wooden cup from the table and stands up seven feet tall, towering over everyone inside, and walking over to you to try and offer you his cup. “Drink?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m sorry Hedge, not today.”

“Are you with child again?” Yvette asks.

You glance at her and shake your head. “No, I am not.”

Yvette scoffs and grins down at the wooden surface. “I was about to say, it’s been four months, why so eager?”

You grin and shrug innocently. “Oh, you know, not eager but my paramour and I do like to keep busy and have fun.”

Yvette smirks and gets closer to you, whilst Hedge walks over to Ser Erwin as he continues to lurk behind you.

“Do not worry, little man, y/n here is…” his words trail off as he takes the Golden Knight off to the corner of the tavern.

“Someone was asking about you,” Yvette shares in a low voice.

You snap your eyes to her and narrow your gaze out of confusion. “Who?” You probe.

Yvette sighs. “Issa did not get a name. She only said that the man’s hair was silver-white. That it stood out even in the darkness of the night. Like moonlight she said.”

A Targaryen?

Couldn’t be Aemond he was with you the entire night, and he had no reason to. Aegon wouldn't bother to be so secretive, so…Daemon Targaryen.

He’s the only man with that hair description you can think of. Only one who made sense.

“What did he want? What did they tell him?”

Yvette shrugs. “I don’t know what he wanted. Issa cut the conversation short, you know we support you down here.”

You hum and offer her a faint smile. “I will have to thank her then.”

“What do you want then, hm? You said you need information,” Yvette finally investigates.

You sigh deeply and lean closer to her to share what you need. “I need to know if anyone has seen my dear Goodbrother Aegon. He’s gone missing. The…King is dead.”

Yvette holds your gaze for a moment before she lets out a deep breath and grabs a cup of ale to take a large swig. “To the King's memory. May the Gods give him peace.”

“Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret until it’s publicly announced.” You let her know.

Yvette nods in agreement and then shows off a half grin. “Prince Aegon has been seen around the streets. With the White Worm.” She snickers. “Even she and her little workers have grown to forget about what’s below them. Hm. Some of our friends have said that they saw her take him to the Sept. It seems the bastard wants to run away from his duties. I hoped they’d want him gone. Gods know what he’s done.”

You hum in agreement and pull out a heavy pouch of gold to hand it to her. “Thank you, I hope you can give everyone their portion….There’s also a bit more for you and your mother.” You offer her a smile, and Yvette grabs your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles before stroking your chin.

“Thank you my Sweetling. May the Gods bless you and your sweet little cub.”

You grin at her and press a kiss on her cheek before you pull away and offer her a nod. “I will see you soon enough,” you tell her.

“You better!” She exclaims. “I want to see that ass again.”

You smirk and meet Ser Erwin’s gaze to point to the door.

He understands your meaning and excuses himself from your friend Hedge.

“Leaving so soon, Ser,” Hedge shouts at you as Ser Erwin walks to you. “When will you compete again? The lads and I miss you!”

“Soon!” You throw out as Ser Erwin opens the door for you. “I promise you that!” You wave at your friend before putting on your hood again to head back to your meeting place.

“Ser,” you break your short silence once you’re a few feet away from the Tavern. “I hope my business here is kept just between you and I. I value my privacy and I would hate to lose your trust after a year together.”

Ser Erwin’s gaze lands on you, and from the corner of your eyes you can spot a certain sparkle. “Does your husband not know?”

“He is the only one who knows besides some other trusted few,” you let him know, and see him swallow thickly.

“Right,” he sighs. “Well, you can trust me, you know that.”

You smile at his comfort and pat his shoulder. “Thank you my friend. I hope I can repay your loyalty.”

“No need,” Ser Erwin continues to assure you. “It’s my honor. It really is.”

You smile softly and nod in comprehension, finding no need to argue with him since you know he’s only sincere. It’s why you continue down your path in silence, and once again, unfortunately, there’s no obstacles in the way.

Once you begin to reach your meeting point, you already spot Aemond and Ser Criston waiting for you. The moment Aemond spots you under your cloak, he breaks away from the Knight, and you break away from yours to meet each other halfway.

The moment he reaches you he grabs your shoulders and studies you first for any injuries before he meets your gaze, and cradles your cheeks. “‘Cause any trouble my love?”

You pout and shake your head. “No. Sadly. You?”

Aemond shakes his head. “No.”

You quirk your brow and hide your smirk that threatens to show. “Find anything?”

“No,” he deadpans. “You?”

You hold his gaze and begin to smirk before you lean over and whisper in his ear. “A little birdie told me they saw him being taken to the Sept by the White Worm.”

Aemond pulls back and grabs your face again to stare at you in awe for a moment before he grins at you and pulls you in for a deep kiss.

You snicker and don’t fret to kiss him back with more passion, making sure to bite his bottom lip before pulling away.

“I love you,” he tells you softly.

“I love you,” you mirror his words.

Aemond offers you one last smirk before he pulls away and begins to lead the way. “Come,” he tells the other two Knights. “My Lady Wife has found my brother.”

You side eye Ser Criston and join Aemond’s side to walk by him towards the Sept.

Luckily enough, the Sept is not far from Red Keep, so you all make it rather quickly. Yet, when you do reach the Sept, the twins are already there and with them is Aegon struggling to be let go.

The moment Aemond and Ser Criston notice they both run to the stairs, and Ser Erwin follows his fellow Knight, leaving you behind to wait.

Some words are exchanged from the top of the stairs, before Aegon suddenly shoves Ser Erryk back and snakes out of his grasp to run the opposite way of where Aemond is waiting by the flight of stairs, forcing to rush down to follow. Whilst Ser Criston and Ser Erwin stay behind to fight against Ser Erryk.

When Aegon reaches the bottom he breaks into a sprint ahead, not catching any glimpse of you until it’s too late and he’s too close. He tries to swerve, but you grab him by his arm and shove him back to Aemond as he charges at Aegon.

Aemond then tackles Aegon to the ground, but Aegon resists some. He doesn’t actually manage to fight, he just tries to struggle against his brother's hold, but fails and gets dragged back by his foot. And unsurprisingly enough Aegon begins to laugh.

“I was hoping you disappeared,” Aemond tells Aegon.

“Is our father truly dead?” Aegon asks as he continues trying to push Aemond off.

“And they’re going to make you King,” Aemond mutters.

Without hesitation Aegon pulls his head back and sucks in his cheeks before spitting at Aemond’s eye, causing him to exclaim and fall back and let Aegon go.

Aegon tries to run then, but Aemond catches him right away.

“No!” Aegon exclaims as Aemond pulls him off the ground. “Let me go! No, let me go! Let me go! Brother!” Aegon yells and continues to squirm. “Let me go! I have no wish to rule! No taste for duty! I’m not suited.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Aemond retorts, and Aegon manages to turn around and face Aemond.

“You let me go,” Aegon continues to try and sway Aemond as he grabs his face. “I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found.” Aegon pants and waits for Aemond’s response as he stays quiet, as if debating his proposal.

Nevertheless, Ser Criston approaches Aegon and cuts off any opportunity for an answer. “The Queen awaits.” Ser Criston grabs Aegon by the shoulder before pulling him off Aemond and dragging him back to the castle. Ser Erwin follows them when he sees you’re not moving, leaving Aemond and you behind as he lingers there for a brief second before he looks away from where his brother was and meets your gaze.

“Let’s go,” you break the silence.

“Was it a mistake?” He asks.

You sigh and close the gap between you. “Perhaps,” you can’t lie. “But this was not for you, but for her. Your mother.”

Aemond holds your gaze and hums in agreement.

——

*LATER*

“Tell me,” Aegon mutters with food in his mouth. “Sweet Goodsister...”

You pick a sleeping Visenya off Aemond’s arms and glance at Aegon sitting around the table.

“Have you ever dreamed of being Queen?”

You gently rock the baby girl in your arms as you slowly make your way to her crib and give him the honest truth. “Perhaps once when I was a child, but I have never really dreamt of it. I…” you pause and carefully place Visenya down, making sure to stroke her cheek so she could not wake up. “…I had other dreams,” you continue.

“Like?” Aegon probes.

You sigh and slowly turn away from Visenya to face Aegon’s back as he keeps eating. “Like becoming a warrior like Queen Visenya. I wished to wear ringmail, wield my own sword…” you sigh and walk towards your rack of dresses that you needed to choose from for tomorrow's coronation. “While also being a decent Lady.”

Aegon hums, and you can feel his stare as you get in his pherial view. “Well,” he says. “You’re halfway there—“ he stuffs his mouth and adds a muffled snicker. “You’re just missing the title.”

You scoff and pull out a dark black dress that in certain light seems dark green. The sleeves were long and parted in the middle so skin would show, and the sleeves hung off your shoulders. While the neckline was deep, and around the lining of it was embroidered by a golden dragon. The tail of the dress was long, but not long enough that you’d be tripping over it or have someone else do so.

There were more; red ones, green, more black ones, but the one you have in your hand called your attention, and well…it coordinated with Aemond’s outfit for tomorrow.

“I like that one,” Aegon comments.

You side-eye him and catch him smiling from ear to ear.

“Watch your tongue Aegon, I can have you locked in my closet all night.” You remark and walk over to hang the dress in your closet. “Then again it seems you’re accustomed to confined spaces so, it might feel like home.” You smirk.

Aegon chuckles. “Such a sharp little tongue,” he counters. “I like it.”

You roll your eyes.

“Aegon,” Aemond warns.

You hear a shuffle before you hear Aegon scoff and laugh. “What?” He retorts. “I am only jesting with her. She knows that. You know that. I swear I have never looked at your wife in such a manner brother.” He snickers.

“No,” you scoff and walk out the closet. “But you did look at Nyra like that.”

Aegon turns back and nods. “Nyra…Nyra,” he clicks tongue. “I liked her. It was a shame she had to go.”

You let out a deep annoyed sigh and make your way to Aemond’s chair.

“Anyway,” Aegon comments. “I’m just saying, sharp tongues make for great Queens. At least…” he pauses and takes a long sip of water since Aemond made sure to have the wine taken away. “That’s what I think. If you don’t take anyone’s shit then people will not dare cross you. They will respect you.”

You prop your arms on the chair and let your hands hang off the head of the chair. “You think?” You entertain him.

“Yes,” Aegon agrees and pushes his chair back to stand up. “I mean I know I would. I’d rejoice in having a Queen like you. I mean,” he begins to laugh and walks over to the fireplace so he could be closer to Aemond. “The way you so quickly got ready to fight Baela. Did you see it, Aemond?”

Aemond turns his head and looks at his brother. “Partially.”

Aegon snorts and stifles his laugh before he points at you. “Well you should have seen her, she was ready to join you in the fight, it’s a damn shame Rhaena held Baela off. It would have made for a great girl fight.”

Aemond scoffs. “It would not have been a fair fight. Y/N would have embarrassed Baela. She might have a dragon and a quick temper, but y/n has the training, she would have dragged Baela without breaking a sweat.”

You smile and gush whilst you squeeze his shoulder as a speechless thank you.

Aegon scoffs and nods. “See…such fiery makes a great trait for leadership.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “We will not let you leave Aegon. You are to stay here and be crowned at dawn. That’s what your mother said.”

Aegon lets out a deep sigh and sits down. “So what?” He grumbles. “I’m going to be treated like a child until then?”

“Maybe if you stopped behaving like one you would be in your own quarters now, so,” you comment and step back from Aemond’s chair.

Aegon sinks in his chair and lets the room fall silent.

At least it was silent for a bit until Visenya began to cry. “It's okay, I’ll get her,” Aemond says before he stands from his chair and walks to Visenya to pick her up.

And right away, once in the comfort of her fathers arms, Visenya's cries begin to silence until there’s nothing but the whispers of your voice as you approach her and Aemond.

“Did you have a nightmare?” You smile at the baby girl as she rubs her eyes. You then rest your head on Aemond’s shoulder whilst you gently rub his back. “<Don’t worry Little Delight, your father is going to slay all those scary monsters.>” You comfort her in Valyrian and gently stroke her cheek with your finger.

Aemond’s lips tug to a faint smirk before he presses a kiss on your forehead.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“People of Kings Landing, today is the saddest of days our beloved King Viserys the Peaceful…is dead.” Lord Otto announces to the audience of people all crowded in the Dragon pit to watch Aegon’s ceremony. “But it is also the most joyous of days for as his spirit left us he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon should succeed him.”

The crowd murmurs at the sound of the announcement moments before clapping in acceptance. However, the sound of marching Knights then cut off the short sound of celebration as they marched and lined up towards the stage.

“Halt!” One of them orders loudly, and every single one does as they’re told. “Turn!”

Trumpets then begin to sound and the announcer continues. “Present…arms!”

The sound of the trumpets goes quiet, and murmurs fill the room until there at the other side of the line of Knights is Aegon walking out. He’s slow with his steps, and as he passes every pair of Knights, they lower their blades.

“It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this a new day for our city,” the Lord Hand continues to shout as Aegon approaches. “A new day for our realm. A new King to lead us!”

Once Aegon reaches the stage, you let out a small breath and watch as his mother presses a kiss on his forehead. She proceeds to lead him back to make him get on his knees so the Septon can approach him now.

“May the warrior give him courage.” The Septon spoke as rubs oil on Aegon’s forehead. “May the Smith lend him strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom.” The Septon finishes and hands back the oil to hand Ser Criston the Crown of Aegon the Conqueror.

Once the Knight approaches Aegon, you clench your jaw.

“The crown of the Conqueror passed down through generations!” Ser Criston shouts and carefully places the crown on Aegon’s head, making you lower your head and sigh.

“Let the Seven bear witness; Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne!”

There’s a moment of silence, and you lift your head to once again look over at Aegon, catching him standing up now with the crown on his head. And as the silence continues to linger, with not even the crowd murmuring, Aegon glances at each one of his family members as if looking for their comfort or showing off; and each one of them bows their heads when gazes meet.

When he meets your gaze as you stand beside Aemond, you offer Aegon a faint smirk before bowing your head.

Once he finally looks away the Septon finally exclaims, “all hail His Grace Aegon. Second of his name. King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm!”

Aegon partially turns to face the silenced crowd, and the bells toll.

“Aegon the King!” Ser Criston shouts, and finally the silence breaks as a slow clapter ensues before the people erupt in excited cheer, and louder clapping.

Aegon finally seems to break from his brooding demeanor and begins to be swayed by the support. Yet it makes you uneasy. He is family and your support is on his side, but honestly, you would rather see Aemond, or even Helaena rule. It’s disappointing really that Aegon is King.

Alas, as you clasp your hands tightly together and watch the cheering crowd, suddenly the ground beneath them erupts, making you gasp, and making Aemond instantly pull you and Helaena behind him.

Screaming breaks within the cloud of dust and then a loud dragon roar tunes it all out.

Once your own shock slightly passes, and you make sure your uncle standing behind you is fine, you grab tighter onto Aemond’s arm and look over it, managing to catch a glimpse of a red dragon and Lady Rhaenys within the cloud of dust.

She’s….

Oh...

Oh!

Your eyes widen from shock before they snap to Helaena as you remember what she had been telling you recently, “there’s a beast beneath the boards.” That’s…them, the Dragon Meleys and Lady Rhaenys.

Helaena was right, she was mumbling this incident before it happened. And all this time no one tried to understand, you didn’t.

“Open the doors!” Lord Otto exclaims. “Open the doors!”

The dragon then begins to approach closer, causing your breath to catch and your heart to pound faster, whilst Aemond steps back so you can get further away from the approaching dragon since she was unpredictable. Since she wasn’t Vhagar who’d keep you safe by Aemond’s demand, and Vhagar wasn’t here to defend him.

And as Meleys only gets closer, Aemond can only pull you further behind him before the dragon opens its mouth and lets out a loud and deafening screech that’s so powerful that it makes Aemond’s hair blow back. You on the other hand press your face against his back and grab onto him tightly as you expect the worst, as you expect flames to come out and burn everything down.

Yet, the dragon then goes quiet and flames don’t scorch a thing or melt everyone in front of her to nothing but a pile of bones. As you slowly look up you see Lady Rhaenys and her dragon turn before charging out of the dragon pit and flying off, leaving nothing behind but the disbelief that filled the room.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

There was once a desire, a deep longing to return home once. As ignored as your father left you, as alone as you felt amongst your step-sisters, that desire to return was still deeply implanted. As time passed and the relationships you had developed, as you grew to love the husband you were forced to marry, now….now there wasn’t anything you wanted more but to stay home, with him and Visenya. That’s all.

Because as long as you had them then everything felt fine, you were happy and comforted. Safe. But now they want to take her. They want to take Visenya from you, from Aemond. They want to offer her up like livestock. All for what? For a war for some King that doesn’t deserve the title?

It can’t, they can’t take her; not from you, not from her home. Now like how they took you.

Yet….while you made your way to the council meeting, Alicent comes out of the hall you needed to turn to and immediately calls out your name as if it’s you who she had been searching for.

“Y/N.”

You slow down your pace and let her walk beside you as you’re determined to march in the room and demand every pompous Lord gathered around the table to change their word.

“Before you storm in there let us talk,” she says and grabs your arm to pull you aside to some empty room.

“What about?” You probe and glance back at the wooden door. “Aemond is waiting for me at the council meeting.”

He chose to leave earlier because of some excuse that his grandfather needed to talk to him privately. So he left you behind.

Alicent nods. “Yes. I know. We will go in a moment, let us talk first.”

You sigh and clasp your hands together in front of you. “All right.”

Alicent swallows thickly and walks over to a small round table to take a seat on one of the wooden chairs. You’re hesitant as you see that she seems to want to take her time, but time isn’t going to speed up faster if you stay up, so you let out a small breath and fix the chair beside her to be able to face her.

“Is everything okay?” You ask softly.

Alicent nods. “Yes, everything is fine…I just wanted to discuss what we will be discussing about in today's meeting.”

Oh. It should've been predictable.

You scoff and blink to watch your hands as you twist your ring around. “Did…Aemond send you to talk to me?”

Alicent sighs, and when you look at her, her lips form to a small frown. “No…he wanted to talk to you himself, but I thought that maybe it would be better if we talked.”

You drop your gaze and gently bite your lip before you huff out of your nose and jump to what this conversation is about. “Visenya is a baby. She is only four months old….” You let out a small shaky breath, and clench your jaw so you could fight back your tears.

“She’s my baby and they want to offer her away…” you pause and sniffle. “I don’t want them to take her away.”

Alicent let’s out a soft breath before you feel her hand on yours. “I know,” she whispers. “I know exactly how you feel….”

You lift your gaze and meet hers.

“…I am a mother too. I too have a daughter who was once as small as baby Visenya,” she continues. “I swear to you I know your grievance…but…you have to understand that Visenya is a Princess with Dragon Blood in her. She is a High Born Lady with Lannister Blood. She has duties that she must follow, as you did once too. As you still do.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I know that but I cannot fathom being apart from her, marrying her off to some stranger. To someone who might hurt her.”

Alicent scoffs softly as if it’s amusing. “I don't think you need to worry about her getting hurt, she already has a dragon born to her,” she tries to assure you. “With time I am sure both you and Aemond will teach her to wield a blade even if people are against it.”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile over her words.

“She will be fierce just like her namesake, like her mother.” Alicent smiles. “And if it’s a stranger you’re worried about…Aemond and you were once strangers, and look at you now, you’re both inseparable. My son loves you. I could have not asked for a better Gooddaughter. So maybe that’s what awaits for Visenya too. If not she will be a Lady of her own home. A mighty one at that.”

Alicent lifts your hands and cradles them tighter, she leans forward to be closer, whilst you stay quiet and listen to her every word.

“She will be promised a good life, and she will not leave until she comes of age, years from now,” Alicent continues. “Aemond will not let that little girl out of her sight so young, you know that. And…think of the advantage this match could bring. This alliance might be what keeps your family safe, and bring the power we need to fight what could come.”

No one could protect her more fiercely than you and Aemond, but…

“If you do not have a desire to fight for Aegon,” she says in a whisper. “Then do it for the love you harbor for my son, for my granddaughter.”

…she’s right. About it all. Even if it pains every muscle in your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble and drop your head. “I just want to keep my daughter safe….that’s all I want.” Tears escape past your eyes, but you quickly pull your hand from Alicents grasp to wipe them off.

“I understand,” Alicent interjects before she wraps you in an embrace. “I do.”

You’re caught off guard a bit by her embrace, but once the surprise passes you wrap your arms around her and sink in her arms.

She lets you stay for a moment, she lingers in the embrace as well and doesn’t pull back until a knock raps on the door. When it’s relieved who was at the door, a servant announces that The Hand is demanding her presence at the meeting, so…you both go.

You both head towards your previous destination, to the chamber full of men, all of them already lost in conversation without having the manners to wait for Alicent. They only pause once she walks in because of courtesy, but if she had been someone else, if you had walked in alone that same courtesy would have not been shared.

Albeit you must exclude Aemond from your judgment, he was sitting amongst them but was quiet, only listening to what had been discussed, and only in attendance because Visenya was going to be talked about, otherwise he wouldn’t have shown.

Then again…war is an unavoidable thing so he might be attending these meetings more often.

“We were just discussing the alliances in our midst,” Lord Otto shares once Alicent takes her seat; this time beside Aegon since he was now the head of these meetings.

You on the other hand take your spot behind her, just like how it was in every meeting since she asked you to accompany her.

Yet today there was another wine fetcher in the room, and beside Aemond was one empty seat.

“Please,” Aegon interjects with a smug smile. “Take a seat, My Lady.”

You blink in confusion and look to Alicent, who offers you a faint smile, and then to Aemond, who offers you a single assuring nod before he stands up to wait for you to take your seat.

You’re hesitant at first though and slowly approach your seat before you sit and get pushed in, joining everyone around the table this time. As one of them.

“From now on,” Aegon continues, and pulls your still slightly shocked gaze to him. “I want you to be apart of these meetings as one of my advisors. You and my brother.”

Even after all the teasing? All the banter? All the discreet side eyes and dirty glares? You? A woman?

“Thank you,” you tell Aegon in disbelief. “Truly. I am honored.”

Aegon smirks before he leans back and drinks from his cup of wine, letting the previous conversation continue.

“The houses that will stand with Rhaenyra if need be are The Starks; they’re loyal to their oaths,” Lord Otto shares. “House Arryn because of the blood they share, and of course House Velayron.”

“That leaves House HighGarden, House Tully, House Greyjoy, and House Baratheon,” Lord Wylde continues for her father.

“We will send a raven to each House, remind them of their oaths to the Crown, and tell them to pledge loyalty to Aegon,” Lord Otto says.

“Perhaps along with our message to Storms End, we can send a proposal. Lord Borros has children, all free to marry after all,” your uncle suggests. Once again. “I’m afraid Prince Jaehaerys is too young to marry his daughters, that leaves his newborn son.”

You lower your gaze and clench your jaw as you know where this is headed.

“I suggest we offer to match my niece, Princess Visenya,” your uncle continues; and you feel his stare on you. “She carries Targaryen blood as well as Lannister blood, it’s a far worthy match.”

You slowly look up and meet his gaze for a brief second; with no anger, no happiness, just…sadness and acceptance.

“Yes,” the Lord Hand agrees. “Borros won’t turn down the offer. Especially not when it’s known the princess already has bonded to her dragon.”

Alicent turns her head and looks between Aemond and you. “Aemond, y/n, what do you think?” She asks.

Aemond and you share a gaze that you both understand without needing to speak since he knew his mother had convinced you already.

“Yes,” you interject for the both of you, feeling Aemond’s gaze on you. “I agree, we should offer to match Visenya to Lord Borros' son. It should be an honor to him to receive such a highly valuable match. Besides, it would secure his alliance with Aegon.”

Aemond hums in agreement, and as you keep your hands on your lap, you suddenly feel his warm and soft hand hold yours. When you look over at him his gaze is already on you, making you smile softly in relief.

“We will go and give him the proposal in person,” Aemond adds and looks back to the members of the council without even thinking twice, or even asking about letting you accompany him.

“Yes,” his grandfather nods in agreement. “That would work excellently in our favor, it would show we value their allegiance. Aegon?”

All eyes go to him, and he slowly lowers his cup from his lips and hums before speaking, “yes, that would be great. Go, the both of you, it will be more favoring that way.”

You let out a small sigh and look between all of them, and feign a smirk. “Thank you,” you say out of courtesy. “We will not let you down.”

——

For him. For her.

You sigh and look up at the grand tower on the rock by the water. Just like Casterly Rock.

Except here the sun didn’t shine brightly, clouds covered the sky and made the day look like night. Wind thrashed violently, and the rocks that surrounded the castle seem sharper, violent.

This is Visenya’s future. This one tower.

“Oh gods,” you murmur as you walk away from Vhagar. “<This is where my daughter is going to live?” You comment in Valyrian in case there was anyone lurking nearby.

“<It’s so depressing,” Aemond adds to the judgment as well. “Perhaps her dragon will eat her betrothed in due time.>”

You hum along, and once you walk undercover Aemond stops you. “<It’s you who once told me not to let your emotions get the best of you, no?”>

You drop your gaze and slowly turn to face him.

He closes the gap that’s left between you and caresses your chin before he cradles your cheeks. “<I love our daughter, you really think I want to marry her off to some Baratheon dimwit? No. But this is what is best. It is our duty, as it will be hers. We cannot let our emotions blind us.>”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile, and you simply nod in comprehension. Aemond holds your gaze and offers you a faint smirk before he steals a kiss from you.

When you pull apart you smile faintly at him before stroking his lips with your thumb as you hold his gaze. He proceeds to smirk and looks at you up and down before he leans in and whispers.

“<You look fucking beautiful in your riding outfit.>”

You grin and bat your lashes. “<Do I?>” You probe sweetly.

He hums.

You glance at his lips before you grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for a deep tender kiss. Aemond grabs your face with both hands and kisses you back with more passion.

“Come on,” you say between breaths. “We shan't keep the Lord waiting.”

Aemond kisses you one more time before he meets your gaze and agrees, letting you both pull away completely and continue towards the castle gates.

Once upon them, guards come out and don’t ask who you are, they notice Aemond’s silver-white hair, his eyepatch, and step aside and open the doors to let you walk inside the cold and dimly lit castle. The moment you stride inside the Maester meets you.

“Prince Aemond,” he greets and bows his head. “Lady Lannister, welcome to Storms End. Lord Borros is waiting inside.” The man stands up straight and turns to walk the both of you to the grande hall.

And as mentioned the grand Lord Borros was already sat upon his chair, four dark haired women stood at the side, his own council stood close by, and all their eyes landed on you the moment the guard stepped up to announce your entrance.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen, son of Late King Viserys, and his Lady wife, Y/N Lannister!”

Aemond and you stride towards the Lord with confidence, without falter.

“Lord Borros,” you break the silence once you stop in front of the stairs. “Thank you for receiving us in your home on such short notice.”

Lord Borros hums and lifts his chin. “I am quite curious as to why I have the honor of receiving you today, so out with it.”

How kind.

“We are here as envoys for King Aegon,” Aemond says. “As you well know, my father passed, and in his last breaths he wished for his firstborn son to be named King. Your King. Now, hm,” he sighs and clasps his hands behind him. “It seems Rhaenyra Targaryen wants to usurp my brother's title.”

“And what?” Lord Borros quips.

You scoff. “King Aegon wants you to pledge loyalty to him, he hopes you could give your swords and bannermen to ally with him if it’s a war Princess Rhaenyra wants.” You continue for Aemond. “In exchange…” you breathe out. “We offer a proposal, when our daughter Visenya Targaryen comes of age, she shall marry your son. Let us join our houses Lord Borros.”

Lord Borros let’s out a deep breath and scoffs as he smirks. “So the Lion bows to the Stag, here I thought the day would never come. What would your father say?” He chuckles.

You scoff, and feign a soft smile. “It was my father and uncle who suggested it. So I’ll say they are quite honored, Lord Borros.”

“Hm.” He shifts in his seat and glances at Aemond. “What keeps me from accepting an alliance with the Princess if she bothers to show?”

Aemond clears his throat and steps forward. “Whatever it is you need. But I do hope you know, with our pact comes no…dishonesty,” he snickers. “When our children come of age, my daughter will be accompanied by a dragon. When they have children of their own, our grandchildren will each have one of their own. And is there no greater glory than joining three grand houses?”

You keep your eyes on the Lord and see him glance at his people for a brief moment before looking back at you.

“All right, I will accept the King's proposal, I will give my swords and bannermen, and accept the match between my son and your daughter.”

Both Aemond and you smirk, and you nod and add, “thank you, Lord Borros.”

“Did you bring the babe with you?” Lord Borros asks. “My wife might be curious to meet our daughter to be.”

You shake your head and can’t help but smile at the thought of her. “No, unfortunately. Visenya is home. Perhaps we can return another time so the children can meet.”

He scoffs, and changes the subject to matters of money and dates, and doesn’t let you even say a peep, he makes Aemond talk the entire time. Actually you’re quite lucky he actually even addressed you today and didn't just view you as Aemond’s accessory.

Regardless as they talked, sometime later an announcement then cuts them off. “Prince Lucerys Velaryon.”

You turn around and see the boy alone, surrounded by Baratheon Knights. Aemond also turns before slowly walking to your side to look over at his nephew, as he looks at him…with shock

“Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen,” the Knight continues.

Thunder claps in the sky and breaks Lucerys from his stupor. “Lord Borros, I brought you a message from my mother, the Queen.”

Aemond and you share a judgemental look over the boy's words.

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros says. “Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.” He proceeds to chuckle alone before finally questioning the boy's intentions. “What’s your mothers message?”

Lucerys puts out the scroll in his hand so the Knight can take it to his Lord. And once the Knight walks off, Lucerys glances over at Aemond again, as if he’s afraid your husband will just disappear to then attack him.

“Where’s the bloody maester?!” Lord Borros exclaims.

And in the wait, you see Lucerys hold his swords handle before looking ahead again as he waits.

“Remind me of my fathers oath,” Lord Borros says. “King Aegon at least came with an offer, my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” he glances over at Aemond and you, causing you both to show off a sly smirk as Lucerys looks and pieces together what the offer was, who you were matching together.

“If I do as your mother bids,” Lord Borros continues. “Which one of my daughters will you wed? Boy.”

“My Lord,” Lucerys interjects. “I am not free to marry, I'm already betrothed.”

“So you come with empty hands,” Lord Borros says. “Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Without any falter Lucerys responds, “I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord.”

Aemond sighs, and Lucerys turns to begin heading out. Yet, Aemond then stops him. “Wait. My Lord Strong.”

You glance at Aemond out of surprise and slight confusion, but don’t show it when you return your gaze to Lucerys as he turns and walks back.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?” Aemond throws out.

“I will not fight you,” Lucerys tells him. “I came as a messenger, not a warrior.”

“Fight will be little challenge,” Aemond counters. “No.” He then surprises you by pulling off his eyepatch and showing off the sapphire underneath it. “I want you to put out your eye. As payment for mine.”

You stiffen at his threat and take a step closer to Aemond.

“One will serve,” Aemond continues without breaking eye contact, whilst he pulls back his coat to unsheath his dagger and throw it at the boy's feet. “I will not blind you. Mm.” He smacks his lips. “Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

Lucerys looks down at the blade before slowly looking back at Aemond, and snapping back, “no.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor,” Aemond rebuttals, making Lord Borros interject as he senses the tension rising.

“Not here.”

However, Aemond then charges at the boy as he exclaims out, “give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!” He picks his blade off the ground and Lucerys pulls out his as Aemond continues to charge at him.

“Aemond,” you exclaim and step forward. “Not here! Not in this hall.”

Without hesitation Aemond comes to a halt a few feet away from Lucerys.

“Prince Lucerys came as an envoy to Lord Borros,” you remind him. “Not as a warrior.”

“I will not have bloodshed beneath my roof,” Lord Borros interjects. “Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Lucerys sheaths his sword and the Knights then accompany him out, letting Aemond flip his sword around in his hand before putting it away.

Yet you don’t feel at ease, you know him, you can read him now. You know this wasn’t going to stop him.

“Our apologies,” you say outloud and turn to face the Lord. “Lord Borros.”

Said man sits back down and releases a deep breath.

“We must go now,” Aemond adds. “Thank you for your loyalty. I hope we return in time so our children may meet.” Aemond turns around without adding more, and you turn after him to match his quick stride out of the castle.

“Aemond,” you call out, but to no avail. You step out into the rain and call to him again, but he continues to storm over to Vhagar. “Aemond!”

Said man stops just under the archway and turns to face you right in front of him. “Stay here,” he says and grabs your arms. “I will return.” He presses a kiss on your forehead and steps back.

“What will you do?” You ask before he can turn. “Take me with you.”

He sighs and holds your gaze. “No, my love, this is something I must do alone. I can not fathom the thought of you getting hurt—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Never,” he scoffs with a playful smirk. “Just a small…jest, is all.”

You clench your jaw and huff out. “Don’t let your emotions cloud you, Aemond.”

Said man smiles and reaches you again to caress your chin before kissing you once more. “I’ll be back for you,” he assures you.

“All right,” you whisper and watch him walk to Vhagar.

From the top of the dragon Aemond looks at you one more time before he makes the she-dragon fly off high into the sky. You watch them quickly disappear into the thick storm clouds, in the sheets of rain that fell down, and between the clapping thunder.

You wait for them in the same spot he left you at and watch the sky without daring to look away out of fear. You initially thought it was because of what Aemond could do, but you quickly know that the fear is for his life.

Lucerys might not be willing to fight, but the dragons tell a different story, they don’t follow those same rules their masters do. So yes, you fear for Aemond’s life because losing him now…would be like death.

So the longer you wait, the harder you feel your heart pound, the more you fidget with each ring on your finger, the more you worry grows. Until, finally there, coming down from within the clouds is Vhagar. She comes down and lands as close as she can get, but Aemond doesn’t get down, so you climb up.

Once you reach the top, he doesn’t meet your gaze, he lets you sit in your spot behind him without even saying a word. He just keeps his gaze downcasted , and his lips formed to a pursing frown.

He doesn’t seem hurt, neither does Vhagar, so this was something else. Something else made him quieter than he was already, something else made him frown and upset.

“Are you okay?” You try to ask.

Aemond nods stiffly and then makes Vhagar fly away. And the entire flight back home was painfully quiet. Aemond didn’t speak a word about what happened between him and Lucerys, nor did you ask him in that moment. Not even when you planted your feet back on the ground. You were going to give him his time, let him talk when he wanted to.

In the meanwhile you did talk to Vhagar.

“<You are such a good lady,>” you tell the dragon as you caress the side of her face as she leans in your touch.

“Y/N,” Aemond murmurs, making you pat Vhagar one last time before turning to face Aemond.

And that’s when you finally see it, read the emotions in his gaze.

His eye is wide. He looks baffled, but deeper than that he looks scared. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, to see him so upset.

“What is it?” You ask as you get close to him.

Aemond swallows thickly and lets out a deep sigh. “It was…Vhagar, she ate Lucerys.”

Everything in you goes rigid; your thoughts, your muscles. All you feel is disbelief, worry for what was to come from the council when they knew. Yet when you can begin to progress what Aemond said, you blink repeatedly and let out a deep breath before you close the gap between you and grab his arms.

“Okay. That’s—we will deal with it together.”

Aemond’s eye begins to cloud with a tear, and his frown seems to deepen.

“We will have to send her away,” he blurts out, referring to only one person; Visenya.

He was referring to her. Little baby Visenya.

Once again you go rigid, this time denial begins to infiltrate, as well as anger.

“She…” his words trail off as your eyes fall to the ground and you repeatedly blink in disbelief, as you swallow down his words, as you gather your thoughts.

It just he couldn’t send her away. Not her. She couldn’t leave—she needs you. She’s just a baby. She needs him. You need her. She can’t leave.

“No,” you cut him off and blink to meet his gaze. “No,” you repeat. “No!” You shove his hands off you and shoot him a burning glare. “You said she would stay! She isn’t supposed to leave me yet! She—-”

“They will demand blood for blood,” Aemond interrupts you and grabs your arms now. “Justice for what I did.”

You shake your head. “She’s a baby! She’s just a little baby! If they come for her I will kill all of them.”

Aemond sighs and grabs your face now. “Y/N. Listen to me. She cannot stay here, I will not let her stay here and risk having something happen to her. I will not allow it,”

Tears cloud your eyes as you grab onto his hands. “Then protect her. You can do it. I have friends, you’re skillful, just please don’t make me send her away.”

“My love,” he whispers softly. “My love, that is not enough. It pains me too, having to send our daughter away, but she will be safer—”

“No,” you cut him off as tears stream down your cheeks. “No place is safer than with us.”

Aemond let’s out a deep breath and doesn’t agree or get assured, he keeps his frown on, he stays looking sad. He doesn’t come up with a different plan.

“It will be with someone we can trust with our lives, someone who won’t be swayed by money or power. Someone loyal. Someone who can and will protect her with their life.” He says instead. “She cannot stay at Casterly Rock. No matter how many men your father has. She cannot go with my brother Daeron, she needs to go with someone no one will suspect.”

You slide your hands off his, drop your head and sniffle.

You know he’s right, you know it deep in your heart, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Y/N,” he says and lifts your head so you can meet his gaze. “You—”

“I know,” you cry, “I know someone. I know…I know people, but please she’s our baby, she needs us.” You grab his face in hopes that would sway him away from his already made up mind.

“I know.” He nods. “I know. But if something happens to her because she stays here, I will never forgive myself. If I lose her I won’t be able to endure it because she is blood of my blood, because she is my delight, our daughter. So send for them, those people you trust.”

You cover your mouth and clutch onto your stomach before stepping away from him and turning around to give him your back.

“Y/N,” he whispers, “I need you to understand. Say you do.”

You let out a stifled cry and then turn back around to face him with a faltering scowl.

Yet you can’t hold it, you can’t be mad or blame him. So you drop your head and let him approach you again to cradle your face and wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“Tell me,” he says.

You let out a shaky breath and meet his gaze. “Ser Robert,” you reveal the first person, and only person who you can fully trust without a fault to protect your daughter with his life.

“And…Nyra.” She may have chosen Aegon a year ago, she might’ve been sent home because of it, but if there’s anyone you trust to take care of Visenya, to trust to not let her forget you or Aemond, it’s her. The girl who never stopped being your friend.

“I’ll summon them,” you whisper.

Aemond nods in agreement before he leans his face closer. “She will take her dragon as well. It may be a hatchling, but it will grow, it can protect her too in time.”

You draw in a deep breath and nod slowly before sighing.

Aemond then caresses your cheeks before pressing a kiss on your head and pulling you in for a tight, comforting embrace.

“Do not worry my love,” he begins to assure you confidently.

You hug him back, clutch onto him so he wouldn't go. Like if your life depends on it.

“…we will kill them all so we can be together again,” he continues, making you pull back to face him.

“You swear?” You ask him as you hold his gaze.

He smirks and presses a kiss on your forehead one more time before he presses his forehead against yours and assures you, “we will kill them all.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- since I will put this on hiatus, maybe I can write a few side stories like the baby’s first kick, stuff like that??? Yes??

Tagged: @winter-soldier-101 @whateverooooooo @xcharlottemikaelsonx @blue-serendipityy @aistheamazing @lawlerek @hydrationqueensworld @out-of-life @claudie-080102 @ameagrice @stargaryenx @joniinoj

[damn-stark]

It’s up again and now there’s a new scene in there!!

Chapter 4 Snow on the beach

Chapter 4 of Moonlight

Chapter 4 Snow on the Beach

A/N- last full Cregan chapter, now onto Aemond, let’s see if he can beat Lord Stark

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF!, Talks of blood and death, suggestive nfsw, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- Before 1x08

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*127 AC*

“…we’re hoping for a girl, so if the gods are generous you will have that sister you always wanted, wouldn’t that be great?

Daemon also hopes for the babe to be a girl. He said maybe you could choose a name, would you like that? I think it’s a marvelous idea, please write your ideas.”

A girl? Your mother is hoping for a girl again?

Maybe it’s because you’re far away from her and you haven't seen her in four years, but the idea of her having another daughter besides you makes you feel bitter with jealousy.

Is that cruel to feel?

“Anyway, I’m glad you have made friends with Lady Arra, I hate the thought of you being alone so far away. Tell me is she kind? It’s okay to admit if she’s rude and a bitch—”

You snicker softly at your mother's words regardless of your previous feelings.

“—it’ll stay between us. But if you don’t feel comfortable telling your mother then tell your cousins or your brothers. They won’t tell, trust me, Jacaerys never wants to show me what you write to each other now, but, it makes me glad that you share a bond regardless of distance. I know he misses you as I do, my Sweet.

I love you so much.

Love always, your mother, Rhaenyra.”

You put the letter down on the desk and simply smile softly. You don’t cry anymore when you read her letters.

The first two years that's all you could do, cry as you read what your mother, grandmother, brothers, and even what your cousins wrote. You just longed to be by their side again, you missed them terribly. But when your rendezvous with Cregan changed to secret forbidden romantic nights, you stopped crying at night and when you read the letters from home.

Now albeit you feel like starting crying again. Is it stupid to feel jealous about her having another daughter? Is it foolish to feel like you’ll be replaced?

You’re so far away, and you’ll always be far away because of your marriage to Aemond, so having another daughter will cure that longing to have you with her. Having another daughter also means she’ll replace you because it’s a daughter shared with the man she’s in love with, not someone she married out of political gain, not someone who had different preferences. She’ll be the apple of your mother's eye, of their eye—

No! No, it’s stupid, you’re being stupid. Your mother loves you, she’ll never do such a terrible thing.

Albeit…before, when she was with Ser Harwin hoping for another girl you didn't fill you with jealousy then because at least you had your father; he wasn’t always available, but he was there, he loved you too. He’s gone now though, so if she does replace you you’ll have no one.

——

*4 FEW YEARS BACK*

“All right, now…” he trails off and glances around the ship, you follow his line of gaze to see what he’d point to, but he then turns around and points at something else completely. “…that. What do we call that and what’s its use?”

You squint your eyes on the large spar that extends forward from the ship's vessel prow and think back to what he and Ser Qarl have taught you whilst on your way to Dragonstone.

Out of all the things you’ve learned, it takes time to come up with the answer right away, but it then comes to mind. “It’s the bowsprit!” You clap with excitement. “And it prevents the ship from…uh, being submerged in water when the waters are rough!”

“Yes!” Your father exclaims. “Yes! Good job.”

You skip forward and then speak to Ser Qarl. “I’ve thought of a scenario, all right, Ser Qarl.”

Said man leans his arm against a barrel and scoffs in amusement before he softly throws his chin up to gesture you to share what he asked of you a while ago. Something you thought of with a lot of precaution.

“I’m on deck, and then whoa, I get attacked,” you tell him as you clasp your hands back and walk towards the quarter-deck. “Pirates are coming on the ship, my crew is getting hurt, so then I run forward, use my blade to cut the main yard, and swing across the deck to save them, and myself.” You finish proudly and spin around to face both men with a smile. “Huh? Is that good?”

Ser Qarl and your father share a glance and break into a chuckle, making your smile falter. They think it’s stupid, don’t they?

You knew it! It’s too dramatic and childish.

“That’s…” your father clears his throat and walks over to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “That’s a great plan, darling, well thought out.”

You look up at him with uncertainty and probe. “Really?”

He shoots you a grin and nods. “Yes, really.”

“You’ll make a fine sailor,” Ser Qarl compliments. “Probably one better than your father.”

You're quick to please so once again you can’t help but bring back your smile to your features.

“Yes,” your father agrees. “You will. You’ll make a legendary sailor.”

——

*NOW*

“See! That’s how you do it!” Cregan exclaims and flashes a smile as he admires how the arrow impales exactly at the center of the makeshift target. “Let’s see you best that.”

What if he wants to replace you, Prince Daemon?

He has daughters, but those are his own, what if for some reason he just wants to replace you?

Cregan calls your name, but you don't answer or look his way. Instead, you stay lost in your mind and think that it’s unbelievable that your mother would want to replace you. She loves you, all of you, in fact, she was often advised that she not be so affectionate towards any of you, especially towards your brothers, so she wouldn’t just replace you.

No?

Cregan calls for you again and this time touches your shoulder, snapping you from your messy thoughts raveld in your brain.

“Yes?” You query and meet his curious grey eyes.

Cregan blinks and then points at the target with his eyes. “It’s your turn darling,” he says and quickly looks back at you to study you.

Albeit before he catches anything, you pick up your bow and an arrow to then go stand where Cregan was. You exhale softly to try and forget what you were thinking of while you shift your feet and lift your arms. You get the arrow in position and get ready to shoot it, but hands then fall on your arms, making your breath catch and your gaze drift to the corner of your eyes to look at Cregan behind you.

“Relax your bow arm,” he advises softly as he holds your gaze the entire time.

You can’t help but smile and stare at his lips.

“You did hear me?” He asks.

You relax your bow arm like he said and nod.

“Just making sure. You’re not looking at me in the eyes,” he teases.

You laugh softly and slowly meet his gaze with a playful smirk. He snickers and then steals a quick peck from your lips before he stands back.

You flash him a giddy grin before you look back at the makeshift target and draw out a soft exhale again before letting the arrow fly.

Albeit the arrow whizzes past the target clung onto a thin tree.

“I see,” Cregan stifles his laugh and crosses his arms over his chest. “That was terrible.”

You sigh and lower your arm to stand back without meeting his gaze—your mind is just too lost.

“Your teacher must not be so good, you missed the target. You’re usually good,” he continues to tease.

You drop your arms and huff. “The tree is too thin,” you throw out the first complaint that comes to mind.

“The target isn’t the problem,” Cregan points out honestly. “When we go hunting the prey is moving. At battle, the target is moving as well. This. this is easy.”

“I won’t use a bow and arrow,” you remark and briefly meet his gaze. “I’ll have a sword in battle, and Astraea.”

Since you glance up as if you could see Astraea overhead you miss the way Cregan watches you and sees right through your troubled mind right away.

“The target isn’t the problem,” he repeats and leans his equipment against the tree behind him to approach you. “What’s wrong? What troubles you?” He asks softly and takes the stuff from your hands to put it by his.

You know you’ll sound like a total whiner, a spoiled brat most likely. He’s more humble than most of the people at Kings Landing, so he probably won’t agree, but all these thoughts are overflowing your mind and they’re beginning to drown you, you can’t hold back anymore. Besides he is your best friend, and your…paramour? Partner?

No that sounds too official, you aren’t. Paramour sounds right—he’s your secret paramour. He should know what troubles you.

“It’s,” you begin to share and sigh deeply. “It’s my mother. She’s with child again.”

He hums and just like you predicted he responds nicely which contradicts your frown and gleaming eyes. “That’s great news, I’m happy for you….” He trails off as he notices your reaction and backtracks. “Is it not great news?”

You mindlessly grab the pendant your grandmother had given you and mutter. “They’re hoping for a girl, again. Aegon came out as a boy so they’re hoping for a girl this time…to replace me.”

Cregan sighs and shakes his head as he looks at you as if you’re mad. “What? Darling, why would you think that?”

Tears fall out of your eyes as you’re overwhelmed with sorrow you can’t surpass. “Because,” your voice quivers. You can’t even look at Cregan in the eyes or else you’ll just feel a worse anguish in your heart. “Unlike Aegon and this new baby, they’ll have soon, I wasn’t made out of love. My parents had a duty to commit, not Prince Daemon and my mother. They love each other, their kids are made out of love. She wants to replace me with a daughter she wasn’t forced to have. A different daughter that…” you trail off and shake your head whilst you wipe the tears that manage to break out. “…that’s not like me.”

Cregan sighs softly and closes the gap between the two of you with an embrace. “Oh my darling girl,” he says as he begins to caress your back. “That’s the most maddest thing I’ve heard.”

Now that you’re in his embrace, as his comforting smell filters into your nose you can no longer hold back your tears, you cry softly as you hug him.

“I may not know your mother, but from what you’ve told me, it seems she loves you,” he assures you. “She’d never replace you. Never. Who would replace a woman like you?” He asks and pulls back to cup your cheeks. “It’s like if you had a daughter already, wouldn't you want another if the gods were generous enough?”

Well, when he puts it that way.

“I suppose I would,” you whisper.

Cregan offers you a faint smile and nods. “See? You just miss your mother, that’s all. Besides you’re her eldest, you’re special to her, you always will be no matter who comes along.” He assures you while he wipes your tears away before he leans in and presses a gentle kiss on your lips and on your forehead.

“You’ll always be my favorite girl regardless.” he finishes saying to lift your spirits.

And you can't help it, you slowly begin to smile before you steal a lingering kiss that he takes over and deepens. When you pull back you lean your forehead against his and wipe his lips with your thumb.

“Thank you, Cregan,” you whisper with your heart beginning to race as words just run up your throat. “I don’t know how I’d survive being so far away without you.”

The corner of his lips tug to a soft smile. “I’m the one that should be thankful,” he whispers against your lips. “The gods put you in my life and saved me from this loneliness I was bestowed with.”

Your entire face burns and you can’t help but flash him a blissful beaming grin before slamming your lips against his. Right away Cregan slides his hands to the sides of your head and begins to push you back against the tree, whilst your hands travel to the back of his neck, and your nails dig into his skin.

Driven by passion Cregan then begins to slide his hands down, letting them linger on your breasts before he tears open the top part of your dress, making you gasp. Yet your disbelief is short-lived because you then give in and unbuckle his shirt.

Albeit, soon thereafter he forces himself away and lets his head hang low as if suddenly troubled. You try to ease his stress by grabbing his face and reaching for more but he stops you. “Who would I be if I made you mine?” He mumbles between pants. “I can’t.”

Your smile softens as you're quick to reassure him. “You won’t dishonor yourself or me because I love you.”

Cregan holds your gaze in disbelief but can’t help his smile from spreading on his face. “We said we wouldn't fall in love.” He reminds you of your ultimatum.

You sigh. “I couldn’t resist myself, not when you’re the very breath in my lungs. Without you, I can’t breathe.”

It might be foolish to say, no it is stupid since you won’t marry, but it’s a truth you can’t hide. Not from him, not when he’s driven you too madly in love. And especially not when he grins so tenderly for you.

“If that’s so then I can finally relieve myself of this weight I’ve been carrying for too long and say that I love you too,” he confesses with a sense of relief as if he had been forced to hold it all back.

And you knew it’s a bad idea, you told yourself you wouldn’t give in to such passionate temptations, but you’re a woman pushed away from the mother who could teach her the reality, you remember her loving passionately and freely and you can’t help but live by those terms and smile at the man before you before you feed your forbidden passion by stealing a kiss.

“Give me the privilege of giving me your maidenhead then,” he whispers against your lips and steals the very breath from your lungs—“give me the privilege of being mine. Only mine.”

You meet his gaze and never think about Aemond, he doesn’t cross your mind when you’re with Cregan. He should be the very thing that stops you, but he's left you alone, so neither you nor Cregan think of the consequences of what could happen, you’re too driven by lust, passion, and by love.

“As long as you are mine,” you whisper impatiently as you pull his shirt off.

Cregan smirks and nods. “From this day until the end of my days,” he whispers happily against your lips as he holds your gaze and nothing else.

——

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

“You know when I was a little girl I used to be scared of the North,” you tell Cregan while you admire a flame dancing on a candle on your end table.

“Why’s that?” He asks with some amusement playing in his tone.

You snicker and peer back at him with a smirk. “The servants' children said that giant spiders roamed the snowy lands and that northern men were big, brutish, and stole women from the homes of their husbands.”

Cregan pulls his hand away from your bare hip and you can practically hear those dark eyebrows furrow while those pink pouted lips only crease to a frown.

When you churn your head you’re proven right when you see him looking at you with a pointed look. “They say that?” He presses as if those people had personally offended him.

Your smirks turns to a teasing smile and you nod. “A lot of people like to make up reality when they don’t know it.”

Cregan grumbles and turns to lie on his back and look at the canopy overhead. You ache for more of his gentle but rough fingers so you turn and tangle your legs with his while you place your hand on his chest.

“Did you ever imagine you’d love a brutish man?” Cregan asks and almost sounds deeply serious.

You snicker and tease him. “Do I? Or did this man take me from my quarters and make me his?”

Cregan blinks and turns his head down with a smile he can’t help but flash at you. “Maybe it’s you who has cast a spell on me. I heard that the Valyrians were blood sorcerers.”

You giggle and sigh longingly. “I wish I could do such a thing, but the practice is forbidden and lost in your family, unfortunately. My natural beauty is the only thing that took you under a spell.”

Cregan blesses your ears with a hearty chuckle before he flips swiftly and captures you under him. You bite your cheeks to not yelp out of excitement and alert a servant or a guard.

“That is indeed true,” he flatters you and leans down to capture your lips in his. “You have a bewitching beauty.”

You grin and hook your arms around his neck to keep him close. “Oh, I like that.” You coo. “It makes me sound frightening.”

He hums and averts his gaze before interjecting. “No not bewitching then. Enchanting.”

Your smile softens and you can’t help but look at him softly as if he had just made you fall in love with his words alone.

“Tell me,” he continues to fill the comforting silence. “What else did you think of when you were young? More fake stories about northern men?”

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “Well,” you part your lips and sigh deeply as you think back to several years worth of thoughts, casting a long silence.

Cregan doesn’t mind the silence though, he liked to watch you in the silence like an admirer watches art they find fascinating; he never could get enough of the beauty before him. He even liked to admire you while you parted your lips.

“Without getting too depressing—”

Yet you don’t get to finish because the door handle suddenly clicks before the door bursts open, leaving you no time to attempt to hide, only leaving a second for Cregan to flip himself off you.

Nevertheless, the intruder happens to be Arra, Cregan’s wife, and your closest friend.

It turns out that Arra didn’t turn out to be the concern you worried she’d be, unexpectedly she turned out to be a good friend even if you do love her husband. Sure it took time to become friends mostly because you pushed away the possibility out of your fear that she hated you, but she doesn’t.

It also turns out that her preferences are different, she enjoys the company of women, mainly that of her handmaiden. She just put on an act that day Cregan became Lord to fool the masses. Which is a relief, you probably wouldn't be able to handle the guilt if she actually loved him.

“Arra,” Cregan hisses and pulls the furs over you to cover up your bare chest.

“Forgive me,” she mutters as she quickly closes the door behind her before she waltzs in and throws herself next to you on the bed. “I grew bored listening to all the maester had to tell me so I pretended I needed to talk to my husband.”

One would think you would be appalled that she’s lying next to Cregan and you with nothing on but the furs keeping you warm, but, well in your time together, as you’ve grown closer it’s just something you do and don’t question. For one, Arra says she finds no romantic interest in Cregan, and he’s her husband under the old gods, secondly, she jokes that she’s basically married to you too because of how much Cregan loves you, so it’s just like partners being in bed with one another; arra says.

As for Cregan and you, well, you’ve grown accustomed to it, and to keep up appearances you’ve chosen to find a taste for it.

“It’s one of the dreading days isn’t it?” You query Arra knowingly. “That’s why I pretend Astraea needs tending to. They don’t bother me when I say I’m with her.”

Arra rolls her eyes and Cregan frowns at the canopy—“I really detest that I have to suffer through the Maesters dreadful lectures without you. You’re my ward, you're meant to suffer with me.”

You snicker. “I suffered through enough of them with the previous Lady, and I will have to suffer through worse lectures in Kings Landing, I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”

Arra snaps her head to you, and you meet her gaze and you both break into laughter.

“You know we were in a conversation,” Cregan cuts in quite annoyed that your precious moments were so rudely interrupted.

You don’t mind Arra barging and find it as an excuse to see Cregan later so you drag her in your conversation. “He asked me what I would think about when I was young.”

Arra hums curiously and fixes herself to get comfortable, much to Cregan’s protest.

“Well,” you finally share your long-awaited response. “When my head wasn't literally in the clouds or fantasizing about my desires, I would often think about my future. Who I would marry, where I would go, what would happen to me, and who I wanted to be.”

A silence lingers where both Arra and Cregan think about what you said and why someone young would have to think about something so serious so early on. They both grew curious about who it is you wanted to be before a future was chosen for you, but Cregan beats Arra to the question.

“Who is that you wanted to be?”

You sigh dreamily and rest your head on his shoulder first before you tell the tale you were forced to leave behind along with your childhood. “Besides wanting to be a sailor, or an explorer, or a singer, I wanted to be Queen, a kind one like great, great grandmother Queen Alyssane, and my ancestor Queen Rhaenys.”

“Queen?” Arra probes between a joke and a serious demeanor.

You nod softly. “I was the eldest, I thought it was my right, but well…” you trail off and leave it untouched because they know why your dreams weren’t granted. Albeit you do defend yourself. “Not that I resent my brother, I never have, I kept dreaming after that dream was crushed.” You smile softly and that assures Cregan that he can poke at you now.

“What is it you wanted after that? To be a pirate? Isn’t that something you asked to be?”

You laugh and nod against his chest, letting him wrap his arm around your head to press you against him. “Yes well, besides that I dreamt of things I could never be, things I no longer crave because…my feet around on the ground now, and because when I think about tomorrow I see the people I love beside me.”

Another silence follows and this time it’s not so tense, it’s comforting and full of sweet bliss. Arra breaks it and what she shares doesn’t bring tension. “I was in crisis when I was young because I learned I fancied women, and then I hated the fact that I would have to marry a man.”

“I wanted to meet a giant that I thought lived far north,” Cregan shares and right away Arra and you share a knowing look because compared to Arra and you, that was such a sweet and weightless response. He doesn’t seem to understand what his response meant though, so when Arra and you start laughing he’s just left puzzled.

“What is it? I’m being serious, aren’t you?”

——

*128 AC*

Screams fill the room while the sour metallic smell of blood begins to filter the room.

“Come on my Lady push! The babe is almost out!” The midwife instructs Arra.

Albeit Arra throws her head back and shakes her head. “I can’t,” she cries out shakily. “I can’t! It hurts! Please don’t make me go on, please,” she begs with streams of tears mixing with the thick beads of sweat that bathe her face.

“Arra,” you mumble and lean over to grab her jaw and tilt her head to the side so she can meet your gaze. “Arra, I know it hurts, I know, but you have to keep going for your babe. If you don’t then they’ll die,” you share the harsh truth so she can get inspired. “The pain is almost over. I promise.”

Seeing and hearing her in pain is something you don’t want to witness, you know the possibility of her outcome and it frightens you; not for selfish reasons, but rather because she’s your friend, your best friend and you know how cruel childbirth can be and she doesn’t deserve to suffer.

You want to be back to when it was just Cregan, you, and her, simple and serene times. Days when you’d sit under the old weirwood tree with her, and her lady paramour, Genevieve, and sing a sweet song to the babe still growing in her belly.

“Something,” she stammers as she holds your gaze. “Something feels wrong.”

You look up to meet the gaze of her handmaiden and lover and mirror a concerned look before you look at the abnormal amount of blood that is pooling around her.

“We won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Genevieve assures her even if you’re both starting to know the cruel truth.

“Promise,” she continues to say in a way that doesn’t involve the others but doesn’t give away that her words are coming solely from her own aching heart.

“Push, my Lady, push!” They instruct again, and she listens, she puts as much effort as she can into delivering the babe that Cregan and her managed to make. However, she loses too much blood as the babe struggles to come out of her.

Arra doesn't even get to meet her son, she took her last breath as he cried for the first time, and your own heart wept at the realization.

But how does that compare to when you tell Cregan?

He didn’t love her, it’s true, but he did care for her. She was his best friend since childhood, a close confidant, and his wife. He’ll be so heartbroken and you dread seeing more of his sorrow, he was already so distressed when she began to bleed more than normal. He had to leave the room at that moment—Which in turn becomes an issue though because now no one can find him.

Albeit, you know where he is. It’s obvious too. It’s the only place he can think of going to at such a desperate moment. The Godswood.

“Cregan,” you call out as you see him sitting on a tree trunk by the red-leafed Heart tree.

Said man looks up with gleaming eyes. You don't hesitate to approach him and crouch down in front of him. “It’s a boy,” you share with a faint smile but with melancholy, he doesn't miss but ignores, Cregan actually smiles at the ground and murmurs.

“Rickon.”

You take his hands in yours and lose your smile as the dread of sharing the news begins to choke you, threatening you not to speak. Albeit he looks up at you and sees right through you again; he sees the tears stains on your cheeks, and the new tears that begin to form, and he knows he can no longer ignore the truth.

“No,” he mutters and shakes his head. “No, it cannot be true.”

You sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Cregan drops his head to hide his sorrow from you. After all these years he still hides his anguish, but now he doesn’t put on a brave face and then hides away in his chambers, now he lets you see his vulnerability. He lets you comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat and begin to caress his back. “I’m sorry.”

Cregan drops his head on your shoulder, letting you slide your hands around his neck so you can gently caress him and accompany him in his grief. You wish you could stay like that for a while longer, but you can't be caught being so affectionate so when the others found him you could go on pretending.

You learned to get better at pretending. In the first year of your secret relationship, you were almost caught doing things friends shouldn't do too many times, luckily it didn’t happen and a scandal didn’t spread…all because of Arra, she offered her aide then, she taught you how to be very discreet. Well, you were sneaky before, but you would get caught before, and because of her you didn’t and won’t. She helped you a lot and now she's gone with nothing left to her but her bones, and baby Rickon.

However, how can a child stop your departure? You had made the excuse when the five years were up that you wanted to wait for Arra to give birth, and the Queen granted it, but now?

Now Arra’s gone and the babe is here, meaning you will leave soon. You’ll leave Cregan...

That's what hurts too, knowing that with Arra’s death, your time here has also come to an end. You’ll have to leave and face…Aemond.

Seven hells.

You exhale deeply and fall on your bed now that you are in your semi-sheer white nightgown. All the walls that surround you that you once thought dull and bland, and the ceiling above you that you hated looking at when you first got here will soon change for you. This freedom you have here will soon change to a never-ending pester. And the people are somewhat nice, they're certainly a lot nicer now than they were the first year, they’re not racist anymore, but soon you’ll be surrounded by creeps like…Aegon.

Albeit creeps like him exist even here at Winterfell so that won’t change that much—The silence at night though, that will change and you’ll miss it too…

“Damn,” you grumble. “Maybe they should catch us together. It’ll be a bit of a scandal, but what of it?” You groan and sit up to push yourself off the end of your bed and walk to your balcony.

Perhaps the coldness is the one thing you won’t miss, but the silence? The tranquility? Cregan? You will miss him the most…

You sigh deeply again and fold your arms over the railing to rest your chin on your hands as you admire the empty street below. You let the silence linger for a moment before you begin to laugh quietly to yourself.

Once upon a time when you lived in Kings Landing, you’d look down at the streets below just past your window, and you'd see the calamity of everyday life and wish to be amongst it, now you’ve found peace here and wish to stay here in this castle amongst the tranquility. Have you grown, or have you forced yourself to make peace with your life?

You don’t know, so you sigh again and turn your head to the side, in that moment catching the rare blue winter rose in the corner of your railing.

A smile spreads on your lips and you rush over to pick it up, finding a small scroll around the stem. When you open it you see a small sentence; “meet me in my quarters.”

That’s bold of him, but you don’t argue, you’ve found ways to sneak to him. You use the same methods now with no hesitation and find yourself in his quarters, but find him looking out his own balcony. When you make sure no one is approaching you break your silence.

“Cregan?” You call out carefully, finding his still behavior odd.

Said man turns and you quickly add on. “Are you all right?”

The corner of his lips twitch to a slight smile. “Rickon is the most precious thing ever.” He begins to walk to you, and you don’t fail to head towards him as well—“You have to meet him.”

You smile. “I have. Albeit our meeting was cut short. He looks like you though.”

“You think?” He asks softly.

You nod as you meet right in the middle of his room. He takes no time to be sweet and grab your hands to wrap them with his warm ones.

“Baby Rickon makes me think of…our own children.” He makes your heart skip a beat before it begins to race. His words are absurd, you can’t be man and wife, but hearing him say those words makes it seem like a possibility.

“Hair white as snow, kind eyes like yours,” he says and cups your cheek. “Mighty children born of ice and fire.”

You can’t help but let your smile widen, and lose your mind in the impossible for a moment. You come down from that dream and face a truth he doesn’t want to see. However, instead of breaking his delusions, you let him dream because of his grief.

“How are you doing Cregan?” You ask and avoid the topic. “Be honest.”

Said man averts his gaze and lets your hands fall before he then wanders to the side of his bed to take a seat. “I,” he interjects but pauses and drops his head.

Now that racing heart you felt slows down and sinks as you see the anguish he was trying not to show. You approach him and sink down beside him on his bed.

“I feel as if I could have done more,” he reveals and looks up to meet your gaze, letting you see the tears that gleam over his eyes. “I know I didn’t love her as I possibly should have, but she was still my friend, and she died and I couldn’t stop it.”

You shake your head and press your hand on the side of his neck to caress him gently. “It wasn’t your fault,” you comfort him. “You did not do this. What happened to Arra unfortunately is normal. There was no preventing it. It was simply the Gods will. I’m sorry.”

Cregan swallows thickly and drifts his gaze away again, letting you press his head against your chest to be able to embrace him and keep him close to your heart.

“Now what you can do to honor her memory is be Rickon’s father,” you add quietly. “He’ll need you, Cregan.”

Cregan pulls away and faces you with tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t know how to be a father.”

“Who is?” You counter softly. “We don’t spend our lives training to be parents. You’ll struggle, everyone does, but you’ll know one step at a time as life moves on. Be the father yours was to you,” you try to assure him as you cup his jaw.

Cregan holds your gaze for a lingering minute, his lips part and his gaze softens. He doesn’t say anything for a moment that seems to go on for eternity, but then, just as you were growing insecure about what you said, he smiles before he steals a kiss from you.

“See,” he breaks his silence and grabs your cheeks. “This is why I love you. This is why you’d make a great Lady of Winterfell. Your kindness can melt the coldness that surrounds this land.”

You scoff softly and drop your eyes whilst you push his hands away and stand up off the bed. He lays down and watches you pace away.

“I’d also make a good Lady because I am stubborn, a good ruler needs that,” you play along, making him chuckle. However, you end your amusement fast and grow serious.

“But you truly can’t say that,” you mutter and grab the pillar of his bed to spin around and begin to walk to the other side. “You can’t say those things to me.” You remind him sharply.

“If I put a babe in your belly they’ll send you back to me,” he suddenly blurts, causing you to stop just as you reach the other side of the bed to stare at him in disbelief.

“You’ll have no choice but to be my wife and Lady,” he adds the fire, but regardless of the heat that basks your face you pretend to be bothered and grab a pillow off his bed to throw at him. Albeit Cregan catches it and snickers.

“My darling love,” he adds and then flips on his bed to crawl towards you. “Is that not your wish? Your greatest desire? I can put one in you now. Have you back with me in 60 days. ”

“Cregan,” you mumble and sigh with sadness knowing it’s not something that can happen. “You’d know what would happen if you did. Aemond would come after you, my family would too.”

Cregan sits up on his knees before he grabs your hand and suddenly yanks you towards him on the bed, making you yelp as you grab onto his shoulders.

“What?” He counters. “You don't think I can fight him?” He snickers and cups your face. “I’d do it. I’d fight every fucking man in this world if it meant making you my wife.”

It’s these words that only add to your ache about leaving, that only makes you swoon that much more for a man you can’t have.

“I have to—”

“Quiet,” he interrupts you and covers your mouth, making you let out a muffled scoff and twist your face to demonstrate your discontent. “Don’t say it,” he says, knowing that you were going to tell him you had to leave. “Just lay with me tonight.” He pulls his hand away from your mouth and pulls you down with him so you can lie right next to him on his bed.

You debate on dwelling on the matter, but if these are your last moments, then you want to appreciate them, so you don’t bring up your fate and just let him gently stroke your exposed back with his fingers. You snuggle against his warm chest and embrace him, you don’t think about anything but him in the comforting silence that blankets the two of you.

It’s stupid of you, but you love him.

——

*A COUPLE DAYS LATER*

Tonight is the last night you’ll ever spend together. Tonight is the last night you’ll see his beautiful face basked by the moon's soft light, tonight is the last night you’ll touch his lips, laugh, and hear his sweet voice pour in your ear like honey. Tonight is the last night you’ll be embraced by his warmth, it’s the last time you’ll have his smell filter in your nose, it’s the last time you'll hear him laugh, and see his smile painted on his features.

Tonight is the last night you can be lovers before you have to act as mere strangers passing through the night. And he’s making the most of it, acting as if nothing is going to happen. You try to act as clueless as him, but the thoughts keep coming back.

“Cregan,” you call out as he keeps walking deeper in the woods. “It’s far enough, and It’s cold, perhaps we should go to your quarters.”

Cregan peers back briefly and flashes you an assuring smile. “Not much further, just catch up.” He waves you over, forcing you to pick up your pace in the fresh snow that blankets the ground tonight. However, you come to a quick stop at the same time Cregan does when a wolf's howl breaks out from very close by; or at least that’s what it seems, maybe it’s your sudden fear that makes you hear it.

“Cregan,” you whisper sharply and approach quickly to clutch onto his arm. “Let’s go back to our usual spot, come on. These aren’t our grounds.” You look out to the depths of the woods to see if you’d find a pair of glowing eyes.

“These are my grounds,” Cregan corrects you and reaches for your hand. “Come let’s get closer.” He tugs you further, but you instantly yank him back.

“Are you mad?” You argue in panic and slight judgment. “There can be a pack of wolves out there.”

Cregan scoffs and grabs both of your hands to pull you towards him and counter. “And you have a dragon, don’t be frightened.”

“Astraea wouldn’t bite our faces off and shred us apart with her teeth,” you counter back louder. “The wolves will, and Astraea can only get here so fast.”

Cregan shoots you a smirk, just a simple smirk before he lets your hands fall to run ahead without you.

“Cregan?!” You shout as you stay put and watch as he reaches the top of the small hill before you lose his figure past some trees. “Cregan, don’t leave me alone!”

Seven hells!

Fucking man…

You squint your gaze and take a step forward, but don’t catch a glimpse of him. You just hear the sound of a wolf howling again, causing your heart to skip a beat before it starts to race as your fear heightens. “Cregan!” You call out for him again. “Don’t jest with me!”

You take another cautious step forward and stick your neck out, but still nothing.

Alas then, from the deafening silence, there’s a scream that comes from Cregan up ahead.

The wolf got him!

Rather than being hesitant, you pick up your dress's skirt and run where you saw him disappear to even if there’s a wolf close by.

“Cregan?!” You cry out desperately and proceed to come to a stop when you don’t see him or a wolf. “Cregan?!” You grab onto the tree and turn your head from side to side, however, it’s at that exact moment that hands slap against your shoulders and a quiet “boo,” is whispered in your ear, causing you to yelp and spin around hastily.

And there in the shadows is Cregan, his gray eyes reflecting his joy, while his smile shines just as bright as the stars and the moon before his evil laugh fills the silence.

“Why would you do that?!” You remark with anger before you try to shove him back. However, he catches your wrists in time.

Yet Cregan’s feet aren’t planted against the ground well, and the force you put behind your hit is strong, so he loses balance and falls backward, taking you along with him since he refuses to let go. When he hits the ground you scramble to get up, but the hill you fall on is steep, so you accidentally tumble and take him with you down the snow-covered hill.

He of course laughs the entire way down, but you find no amusement in what happened considering he had you worried sick.

“You are cruel,” you grumble the moment you stop rolling and fall on him. “You are a cruel man.”

You try to move to the side, but he grabs your hands and tugs you back down against him.

“It was only a jest, my love,” he coos and grabs your face. “I just wanted to see something.”

You shoot him a glare and shake your head. “What? How bad I can get a heart attack? I thought you got hurt.”

“And you came running, I’m honored,” he counters with a smirk before he pulls you in for a kiss. Albeit you pull away and smack his chest.

“It wasn’t funny, I was worried,” you mumble with a pout and turn your head away.

Cregan finds this more amusing so he lifts his head and tries to steal kisses from you, but you keep pushing him away and turning your head. When he finally has enough of you turning away he presses his hand against your back to flip you over with ease so he can be on top of you.

“Don’t be angry with me,” he whispers. “It’s funny, laugh.”

You hold his gaze and feign a laugh, causing him to roll his eyes.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” You ask and lift your arms to grab his biceps. “Maybe that will change my mood?”

Cregan smiles softly and caresses your cheek. “I’m more than content staying right here, I love the view.” He tries to prolong this moment with sweet words that work to make you swoon.

“Well,” you whisper reluctantly. “My view isn’t terrible either…but my ass is getting wet.”

Cregan feigns concern. “Really? Let me see.”

“Pft,” you blow out and slide your hands down his arms to grab his hands.

“Come then,” he stops messing around and keeps your hand warm under his grasp as he pulls you with him. “Let me show you the world.”

No matter the impending doom, your grin widens and that fear vanishes completely, leaving only curiosity and glee where sorrow should be. Once you arrive at where he wanted to go you immediately know you should’ve known better because this place isn’t new, you’ve been on the hill that overlooks Winterfell before. Many times actually it’s his favorite spot after all.

Regardless, the castle from higher ground is truly a beautiful sight with all the glimmering torch lights, and the moonlight dancing on the snow around the ancient grounds.

“Sit,” he demands as he extends his cloak over the ground. “This way you won’t have to get your pretty ass wet.”

You meet his gaze and snicker as you sit, letting him lie down in front of you so he can rest his head on your lap.

“I’ll miss Winterfell,” you mention as you look at the castle below while you stroke his arm. “In a month's time, it’s back to, “yes your Grace, no your Grace”. Locked towers. The insufferable Ser Criston Cole who thinks he’s high and mighty, and my fucking uncle Aegon.” You groan in frustration.

“I can go beat him bloody,” Cregan offers.

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I can handle him. Maybe show him a thing or two as well,” you say smugly, making Cregan smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he says.

You smile down at him and lean down to steal a kiss from his pink lips, but he doesn't fail to ruin the moment.

“If that place is such torture, then stay,” he doesn’t suggest, or persuade you, he’s demanding now.

“All your things are already here. I only need to ask your mother for your hand.”

Your smile drops, and you avert your gaze, not wanting to entertain this further. You want this to be a good last night.

“I may not be ecstatic to return to King's Landing, but I have to go see my grandfather the King, he’s clinging onto life,” you find an excuse that doesn’t involve Aemond just yet. “I miss my family. I want to see my mother soon after I arrive. As well as my brothers, my cousins, all my family who I miss terribly.” You don’t excuse yourself this time, it’s all coming from your heart's desire. You've been apart for so long and can’t really fathom another year without seeing them.

You only wish you could see your father Laenor too.

“You’ll see them at your wedding to your prince,” Cregan grumbles. “Speak the truth, you want to return to him.”

You swallow back the lump forming in your throat and then look down at him with your face contorted in slight annoyance and shock. “No,” you argue back right away to assure him. “No, Aemond…he’s a stranger to me now. We’re betrothed, he was my best friend, but he stopped sending ravens, he stopped caring. He means nothing more than a stranger does.”

Cregan sits up and turns to face you. “Then stay,” he insists. “If he truly is a stranger then stay with me. Marry me. Don’t leave me in agony.”

You sigh deeply and shake your head with a pitiful look on your face. “You know I can’t do that, it’s not that simple,” you argue for his sake and yours.

Cregan however, clenches his jaw and huffs out before adding to his argument. “I told you I’d fight him. I’ll fight everyone that comes in my way.”

You can’t let his words affect you now, no matter how fast it makes your heart race, or how hot your face burns as you grow flustered.

“We’ve kissed, we’ve laid together, you are mine,” he presses passionately. “I’ll kill him to prove it.”

“No,” you quickly rebuttal, causing him to stiffen and furrow his eyebrows as he starts to believe the opposite of what you try to tell him.

“He has the oldest dragon,” you press so he can listen to reason, while you grab Cregan's arms to keep him close. “He’d kill you first. And if he does then…” you trail off and scoff. “Then what will become of me without you?”

Cregan pushes your hands away and stands up with a scowl twisted on his face. “I don’t care because I hate the idea of him touching you, of him kissing you the way I kiss you. I fill with rage knowing he’ll be inside you.”

Your body begins to burn with desire at his words, at the sound of his jealousy, but you don’t let him tempt you, you just stand up and let him grab your cheeks.

“I don’t want him to see you smile, or-or feel your comfort,” Cregan continues to recite beautiful words. “He hurt you already,” he whispers and traces the scar on your face that Aemond accidentally left you with. “I just want you to be mine.”

You shiver at his gentle touch, you crave for more, but you still push him away. “If that’s so then…” you pause and let out a shaky sigh as your eyes fill with tears and that lump of emotions returns to crawl up your throat. “…I wish we had never become friends. I wish we had never met, or loved each other the way we do—”

“Don’t say that,” he cuts you off and approaches you, but you step back.

“I don’t want to be the bane of your existence Cregan,” you finish saying with tears rolling down your cheeks. “I told you before, that night we revealed ourselves to one another for the first time. And you,” you point. “You were okay with it. You knew what was going to happen. You know I’m stubborn, you knew nothing was going to change my fate.” You stifle your whimper and drop your head.

“Look at me,” he says sternly, making you lift your gaze to meet his gray eyes that brew like the angriest storm.

“I’d rather die tomorrow than spend a century without knowing you,” he says, making your breath catch. “You will never be the bane of my existence. Never. Forgive me.”

He approaches you and you let him this time. “But I just don’t understand why you want to marry the prince. Do you not love me?”

You nod and cup his jaw to assure him. “I love you. I just…” you hesitate. “I'm just afraid of losing you. If you win a fight for my hand, Aemond won't stop there, and I can’t even breathe with the thought of living my life without you. Sure we’ll be far from one another, but I’ll be content knowing your heart is beating, and that we are living under the same sky,” you whisper and lower one hand to press it against his chest to feel his heartbeat. “That we share the same sun, that we look at the same moon and stars.”

You offer him a sad smile and he admires it while he swallows thickly, and lingers there stiffly for a moment before he suddenly pulls you in for a deep and passionate kiss that is cut too short.

“So be it then,” he gives in as he pulls away. “I’ll let you go without a fight. I’ll ache for you every day, I’ll love you from afar and want nothing but happiness for you, my sweet love,” he tries to assure you in the way you want to be assured even if the words he says are like bile in his mouth. He presses his forehead against yours and begins to caress your face while he smiles softly at you. “If I hear that he hurt you I’ll march down there and kill him.”

You chuckle and feel tears stream down your cheeks. “Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll write to you every week. Don’t forget me.”

Cregan shakes his head and scoffs. “Don’t speak madness woman, I’d never forget you. I’ll write back every week. And if you don’t get married 6 months from now I will go to your mother personally and ask for your hand.”

You beam at him and nod, knowing that you’ll be married by then. “All right. Okay. I like the sound of that.”

Cregan pulls his head back to take in the sight of your face he thinks is so enchantingly beautiful for a lingering moment before he slams his lips on yours to kiss you again with more passion before he can’t ever again.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

No matter how much you keep telling yourself it was going to happen, nothing could actually prepare you for leaving Cregan and Winterfell. You couldn't even sleep a wink or eat knowing that your life was going to change again.

All your friends, Cregan, and every aspect of this life as you know it is going to become nothing but good memories. Which is very hilarious considering you dreaded coming five years ago; now you don’t want to part from it. Or him.

“Farewell, my friend,” you tell Rolf who is now a Knight, and now stands a foot over you; he was small when you first met.

“Farewell, Princess, may our paths cross again,” he redirects sweetly with a friendly smile.

You draw in a small shaky breath and nod before you step forward and surprise him with an embrace. “If you ever find yourself at King’s Landing come find me, just say you want to talk to me.” You tell him softly.

Rolf tightens his arms around you and assures you. “Of course, Princess.”

You linger in the embrace for a moment longer hoping to drag on this interaction because once you part away the last person to say goodbye to is Cregan.

But no matter how much you fight it, the inevitable is already upon you. There was no avoiding it.

“Farewell, Lord Stark,” you say softly as if you were no more than friends, you don’t even hide your tears even if they’re really for the lover you’re leaving behind and can’t kiss one last time, or tell him how much you love him.

“Thank you for letting me stay, for making Winterfell my home.”

Cregan clenches his fist to resist himself from comforting you, from kissing you, and forcing you to stay. He holds himself back even if it pains him.

“Farewell,” he puts in a simple word with that stern voice he uses when he’s amongst his people. “…Sweet Princess.”

He steps forward as he holds your gaze and reaches his hand out to ask for yours. You know what he wants and don’t hesitate to give him your gloveless hand.

When your warm flesh touches his, he carefully embraces your hand with his and then pulls it towards his lips to press a friendly kiss on your knuckles.

You shiver at the feeling of his wet lips but continue to hold his gaze as if nothing. You let your hand linger in his and push yourself to add more to your final farewell. “Write, I’ll be far but it doesn’t mean we still can’t maintain our friendship.” You smile and slowly pull your hand away to clasp it in front of you again.

“I will,” he assures you and then looks away for the first time since he’s walked you to your carriage to look back at one of the servants and give him a nod.

��I have something for you,” Cregan adds and meets your gaze again, piquing your curiosity. “A farewell present from me and Rickon.”

You slowly begin to grin and look at the servant who falls beside him and hands him a small wooden crate.

“I know how much you love these feline creatures so I want you to take one home,” he continues while motioning you closer with his eyes. When you’re a few inches away you look into the crate and see a small but chunky balled-up dark gray kitten.

“Oh,” you muse and open the crate to carefully take it out. “Hello, my beautiful friend.”

“It’s a piece of Winterfell to take with you,” Cregan interjects as he admires you comforting the kitten.

“Don’t worry, Astraea won’t eat you,” you assure the kitten. “You’ll be friends, won’t you, Wolf?” You give the gray kitten a name that reminds you of Cregan’s gray eyes. You then blink and look over at Cregan with a beaming grin. “Thank you, Lord Stark. I love the gift. I shall love it, cherish it, and always keep it safe.” You exhale deeply and let your handmaidens take the crate as you step back towards your carriage that will take you to the harbor.

“Farwell once again,” you keep longing the interaction as much as you can.

“Farewell, Princess,” Cregan says one more time using your birth name and your old family name while he also clenches his hands into fists again.

You hope he’ll keep interjecting with more but this time he doesn’t ask for your hand, he doesn’t hand you another present, this time it’s time to leave, thus, after one last lingering look you turn and walk to the carriage with tears forming in your eyes. Once you reach the steps, however, Cregan is there beside you, you meet his dark gray eyes for one last time and give him your hand again to let him cup it and help you up the two steps.

Before you can walk inside and close the door in front of him though, you linger there, you hold his comforting gaze even as Astraea lets out a soft cry in the distance. Neither of you want to pull away, but you have to, you have to leave, so you pull away first and walk in. You let the coach close the door before Cregan and minimize your view of his beautiful face.

The coach doesn’t take long to depart from that spot it was stationed at after that, he doesn’t know about your aching hearts, he doesn’t know to slow down so you could look at Cregan’s gray eyes and his pale face through the little gaps designed on the window for longer than a glimpse. The coach races out, making Cregan’s figure disappear before your very eyes, and letting you see snow, endless blankets of snow.

You want to cry badly, but you can’t, you don’t want to give anything away, so you hold onto your kitten, Wolf, and let Astraea express your hidden sadness with her melancholy song as she follows the carriage.

Now onto the stranger who was once your best friend, but who is still your betrothed, Aemond.

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Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans

[damn-stark]

ITS UP Y’ALL SORRY FOR THE DELAY I CANT SELECT ALL ON MOBILE SO I HAD TO DO IT ALL ON A COMPUTER, ANYWAY ITS UP!!

Minor editing changes

Chapter 1 Golden girl

Chapter 1 of Moonlight

A/N- The parallels between young Rhaenyra and y/n!! The parallels between young Rhaenyra and y/n!! Anyway, I really hope you guys like this new series. I'm really excited to share it with all of you!

Warning- Swearing, Aegon, FLUFF, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- 1x06

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

A lot of stuff is often restricted to you, like training with swords, sparring, strolling too far alone, and flying far and wide on dragonback. You’re often told what you can’t do and what you can do. You’re told how to behave. And the pressure is never as hard on the boys as it is on you. That’s why you find simple pleasures, and oftentimes they’re secret…at least until your mother figures it out.

Like now, for example, you’re told you can’t swim in the ocean without supervision, but you’re old, and you’re a stronger swimmer. You have confidence in yourself so you dive in the gleaming blue waters and swim blissfully.

You don’t swim too far down, but you swim deep enough to watch in awe as a school of fishes find themselves swimming around you.

You smile at the crabs that crawl away into hiding, you find comfort in the ocean waters embrace, and find yourself tempted when you spot a small spiked shell on the ocean floor.

You don’t know if you should keep your dragon worried and swim down to collect it or swim up to finally leave…

Hm.

Well your grandfather does like to keep what you collect, and you don’t find the necessity to catch your breath yet, so with some strong kicks, you swim down and snatch the shell.

After you secured it you finally decide to swim up to the surface, noticing your dragon halfway in the water as she anticipated your arrival.

“Relax,” you reassure her as you show off the shell. “I wasn’t gone long.”

You admire the shell now that you’re standing on firm sand and can’t help but smile as you admire all the delicate designs.

So intricate and amazing. How can something so small be made?

Your grandfather will be pleased.

“Come on,” you tell your dragon watching you carefully. “Let’s go to mother.”

First, though you dry yourself and shimmy on your dress you had taken off so it wouldn’t get wet. Your hair will—well it’ll dry enough when you’re in the air, so you leave it and quickly climb on your dragon, finding more peace in the calm sky on the back of your beautiful soulmate.

It’s really just perfect, that’s how you’d describe this moment, soaring the white fluffy clouds hundreds of feet off the ground. The chilly breeze sweeping past you with all its might, and the bright shining sun kissing your skin with its warm rays of light.

If you had the choice to just fly all your life without consequence it’s something you’d take it. No royal duties, no man to marry, just your dragon; Astraea, and you flying around the world. That’d be truly perfect.

Alas, much to your misfortune you have to get your head out of the clouds and descend back down to the ground. You have to hop off your dragons back and face life, and responsibilities.

“Princess,” one of your handmaidens interjects at the exact moment your feet hit the ground. “Your mother has given birth.”

You immediately grin with glee and don’t fret to approach the handmaiden whilst you take off your glove from the top of the fingertips with your teeth. “What is it?” You ask in a muffled voice.

“A boy,” the Handmaiden shares.

Another brother…tsk.

Well, he’s here now so there’s no use being upset by not having a sister. Yet again.

“What excellent news,” you rejoice, and peer back at your dragon with a soft smile

Astraea looks back at the same time so you meet her gaze and can’t help but only grin wider as you catch how the sunlight bounces off her purple scales.

Yet the joy is short-lived because you then hear your name uttered by an annoying individual. “Sweetling,” he purrs.

You sigh and roll your eyes to look at the boy, catching your uncle Aegon approaching the dragonpit with a stupid grin on his face.

“I hope your flight was a pleasant one,” he says as he keeps approaching you.

You feign a smile and nod. “It was,” you deadpan and quickly escape to your carriage that’s going to take you home. But first, you greet your other uncle. “Hello, Aemond.”

Unlike Aegon, Aemond isn’t much older than you, he just beats you by a year. And! He, unlike Aegon, is much nicer and respectful, making him your favorite.

“Hello,” Aemond greets you back with a shy wave.

You shoot him a genuine smile and then stop in your tracks to add, “you know, Astraea is almost big enough to saddle two. Perhaps when she is at the right size and you have yet to find a dragon, you can ride with me.”

Aegon scoffs beside his younger brother, but Aemond straightens up and lets his gaze linger before he sighs and responds. “We’ll see.”

You grin and nod. “We will. Now excuse me, I have to see my mother.” You take your first step up to your carriage, but Aegon takes his chance to cut in again.

“Perhaps later we can take a stroll around the gardens? Find ourselves down by the—”

“No Aegon,” you cut him off without shame and don’t even bother to look at him, you just walk into your carriage and slam the door shut.

Thereafter the carriage is ridden through the grande city that is your home, past buildings getting constructed, past workers, and people wandering the dirt streets. You pass visitors strolling through the streets, you pass by different shops that contain some of the same things or completely different things. You pass families that make you wonder what it would be like if you were like one of them, a civilian worried just about living, someone who does not need to question why it is that your younger brother Jacaerys gets to be your mother's heir and not you, her eldest child.

Is it really because you’re a woman? She is one too and she still is going to ascend the throne after your grandfather.

Your father says it’s because your mother doesn’t want to burden you with what she’s forced to now carry. But you don’t really believe it, who knows the truth as to why she didn’t choose you.

Because you’re simply not her favorite? Because you don’t look like your brothers? Because you don’t have brown hair like them, or white skin like theirs because yours more so matches your father's? Because your hair is white like his? And hers?

Why is what you ask yourself all the time.

Sometimes…you wish you would’ve been born a bastard, maybe then you would have inherited the throne.

Regardless, you never ask her, nor will you ever do so.

You never let her see your affliction either, you push it back, always. Like now for example, before you go see her you change out of your riding clothes and wear a lilac-colored gown; with that new change, pushing all your concerns away and putting on a smile that she likes to see on you before knocking on her door.

“Come in,” you hear her voice welcome you in.

You open the door and slowly poke your head inside, catching Ser Harwin inside handing the little newborn babe to your mother.

“Ah, my sweet,” your mother greets and immediately finds the difference in your hair. Yet she doesn’t comment on anything yet. She lets you beam at her and make a beeline toward her now holding the babe on the couch.

“Princess,” you hear Ser Harwin greet from behind you.

You pull your eyes away from the sleeping baby and throw him a mindless greeting. “Hello, Ser Harwin.” You then quickly focus back on your brother and greet him softly. “Hello, you.”

Your mother smiles softly and then looks up at you. “My sweet, meet your brother, Joffrey.”

What an unusual name for him, but he does look like a Joffrey, so you don’t question it.

“You wish to hold him?” She asks you.

You meet her gaze and nod before you reach over so she won’t strain herself, and carefully cradle him in your arms. “Hi,” you greet him again, this time in a softer voice. “I’m your sister.” You giggle softly and look over at your mother. “He’s so adorable and so small.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Smallest one out of your brothers, and you.”

You hum and shift around slowly, but keep your eyes on him, noticing the small brown hairs on his head. You then steal a glance up at the bulky knight watching you sway the babe and take note that Joffrey also inherited his features…making it another secret to keep.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” Ser Harwin interjects.

You keep quiet and hear your mother simply hum in response before he walks out of the room, leaving your mother, Joffrey, and you alone.

“Do you need anything mother?” You ask her and meet her gaze. “More water? Food? A pillow?”

Your mother shakes her head. “No, I’m quite content right now. Thank you.”

You take this time now to slowly sit down beside her and make sure to keep swaying the babe so he won't wake.

“You stink of dragon, and salt,” your mother points out. “I thought I told you that you couldn’t go swimming so far. No one can see you from so far.”

You pass her an assuring look and rebuttal. “Astraea is watching me.”

Your mother sighs deeply and shakes her head. “She may not be able to do anything if you drown in deep waters. I won’t be able to do anything if you drown so far away. The currents are strong.”

You bat your lashes so you can get your way. “But grandfather says some of the oldest things lie in the ocean. I just want to see.” You smile at her innocently. And since your mother doesn't have the energy to keep arguing she points out something else.

“I assume you were out flying as well?”

“Yes, but I finished my teachings early so I had time,” you immediately explain to her.

Your mother hums. “Well I hope so, the Septa always likes to complain that you never pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and meet hers. “Well maybe if she didn’t talk so slowly then I’d actually enjoy what she has to teach,” you counter, making your mother laugh.

“Yes, her voice is quite irritating, but I just want you to pay attention to your teachings, okay?” She says.

You let out a soft sigh and nod in agreement. “I’ll try, but if Astraea needs me I simply cannot refuse her.” You look back at your sleeping baby brother and feel your smile soften. “I cannot wait to have a babe of my own.”

“Really?” Your mother questions. “When I was your age all I wanted to do was fly, be with my friends, and dream. I hated the thought of having children.”

You smile as your interest piques and can't help but meet your mother's soft gaze. “Really?” You probe excitedly.

Your mother nods. “Yes, but that all changed when I found out I was having you,” she adds and gently nudges your arm.

You mirror her smile and turn to hand her back the babe so you can be on your feet once more. “Well, I do still want to fly around the world. That would be great,” you tell her and walk around her to stop behind her. “Discover new places. See new waters. Different people.” You draw out a soft breath and pick up her long silver-gold hair to begin braiding it in the way Queen Visenya would wear hers.

“That sounds nice,” your mother goes along with your silly dream. “Perhaps you’ll be like Princess Nymeria.”

The corner of your lips pull to a smirk.

“Yet,” your mother adds on. “How can you voyage the world without finishing any of your teachings? A sailor needs knowledge to read maps for example.”

You roll your eyes and feign a laugh. “Oh haha. Well, I can be like a pirate, or I could travel with my father and have him do all the work.”

Your mother chuckles and nods in agreement. “I bet he would like the idea of being out at sea.”

You hum softly, and then pause after you knit a strand of her hair with the other as you fall serious. “But really, what will I do? I mean…what will be of my life? Queen Alicent says I’m almost at the right age to be married off. Will I have to leave you and be matched to some pampered Lord who just locks me away?”

A deep breath escapes your mother as if ready with a response, but she remains quiet for a moment before she pats the empty space you had sat on before.

You, of course, don’t hesitate and let her hair fall on her back before you take the seat beside her once again.

“I know what it is to want to just hop on your dragon and fly off,” she begins to say whilst she shifts in her seat to try and be closer to you. “I understand what you feel. It’s normal to feel so, but I’ll tell you now something your grandmother Aemma told me when I was young.” She manages to cup your cheek, causing you to draw out a soft breath. “We have royal wombs you and I, my sweet, it is how we serve the realm.” She then presses her forehead against yours, making you smile softly and find comfort in her gesture.

“Besides, you are my daughter,” she adds with a growing smug smile. “You descend from the greatest line, you are the granddaughter of one of the greatest voyagers. I assure you that you won’t sit and do nothing, I promise.”

You mirror her smug smile and with all the trust in the world, you nod in comprehension.

“And,” she continues. “With luck, you won’t be sent far at all.”

You pull back and look at her with a pointed glare. “I don’t want to marry Aegon. I’d rather be sent to the wall than be married to him.”

Your mother chuckles and shakes her head. “Gods no,” she assures you, letting you let out a relieved sigh and lay your head on her shoulder.

“Someone else,” she gives your heart comfort. “I’ll find a match who deserves you, don’t worry,” she whispers and lays her head on yours. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you have a good life.”

——

*LATER*

Most nights, when rain doesn’t fall from the sky, when the clouds don’t cover the stars you like to sneak out of bed and climb up castle towers to watch the stars with the desire for more.

You like to feel the wind and pretend you’re far away, somewhere lost in the sky, or somewhere in the ocean. You like to breathe in the fresh air that hits the towers and watch those few people below walk the streets or just the simple castle grounds. There are some nights when Aemond joins you, not a lot, but it is always him and no one else.

And it seems that tonight is one of those nights.

“Aemond,” you call with glee.

Said boy carefully and quietly climbs up the roof to sit beside you.

“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” you point out.

Aemond shrugs softly. “I couldn't find sleep. I knew you’d be here so I thought I could at least pass time.”

You smile softly and nod in comprehension before you glance at the sky again. You sit in silence and find comfort in it, he's always someone that you can find comfort in. Without Baela and Rhaena here he's your only best friend, someone you can confide in since it’s different with your brothers since they are young—maybe once they’re older you can behave like friends too and not just like the squabbling siblings you are.

“Do you think,” you begin to ask him out of fear even after your mother's attempt at comfort. “I’ll be sent away?”

Aemond pulls his gaze away from the sky and looks at you whilst you keep your eyes on the stars.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

You sigh and blink to look down. “I mean…I’m almost at the age to get married. Since I won’t inherit the throne or Driftmark, I’ll probably be married off to someone far from here.”

Aemond nods and follows your line of gaze. He’s unable to find something to say for a moment, but it then occurs to him. “We could get married. That way you’d stay here.”

You drift your eyes to him and muster a small soft smile. “We could,” you whisper in relief and feel your smile widen at the thought, but it soon begins to fade as doubt once again overtakes you. “But if we don’t would you run away with me?”

Aemond hesitates and then shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “We have our duties here.”

Your smile completely disappears at his answer, and your gaze drops to your fiddling fingers. “I’d run away with you if you asked,” you mutter and rest your elbows on your knees to rest your chin on your palms. “We could ride Astraea and fly far away.”

“Be what?” Aemond queries.

You shrug. “Whoever we want,” you throw out as if it wasn't obvious. “Pirates. Rich lords. Dragon riders that discover new lands.”

Aemond scoffs. “I don’t have a dragon.”

You look over at him and nudge his arm. “You’ll have one. I know it. There are still many that are unclaimed, my mother says they rest at Dragonstone.”

Aemond meets your gaze and his lips tug to a smile. “If I asked you to fly me there would you?”

You smirk and nod. “Of course!” You sit up to stand on your feet. “Who’d be laughing then, huh?” You try to comfort his own insecurities. “Aegon. That’s who.”

You twirl around and then reach the top of the roof to begin balancing on it as you slowly walk on it. “There’s Sheepstealer, Greyghost, Silverwing, Vermithor, and the scariest of them all, Cannibal!” You exclaim and jump around, causing Aemond to reach his hands out in case you fell.

“Stop that,” he snaps at you while he follows behind you. “You’ll fall.”

You chuckle and turn around again to keep balancing on the top of the roof. “Who would you pick?” You ask.

Aemond hums for a second before he answers with slight excitement. “Vermithor, beside Vhagar, Vermithor is one the largest.”

You peer back and shoot him a smile. “Nice. I’d still win you in a race though.”

Aemond smirks. “Vermithor is larger, he has more experience as well.” He says smugly.

“But Astraea is smaller, not so heavy,” you quickly rebuttal. “So her weight wouldn’t slow her down.”

Aemond playfully rolls his eyes. “I guess we’ll see,” he plays along and then pushes you forward very gently, causing you to stop in your tracks to turn and try to push him, but he steps back with a laugh.

You giggle in response and try to move ahead, but at that moment you catch a glimpse of your father Laenor standing on a balcony below all alone.

“What is it?” Aemond asks as he notices your smile fall.

You lean your head forward to get a better view, catching your father reading a letter. “It’s my father,” you whisper.

Aemond carefully falls beside you and looks out as well to see what you’re seeing.

“Come on,” you urge Aemond and grab his hand to lead him back inside through the window you had climbed out of.

When you're in the safety of the hall you come to a stop and hold your breaths to listen for approaching servants or guards. When you hear no footsteps, or metal clinking against each other you breathe out, and then lead Aemond down the stairs. He makes sure not to let go so he won’t fall behind, or so he can quickly stop you if he hears someone approaching.

It’s only until you approach the door that leads out to the balcony your father is on that Aemond pulls his hand out of your grasp, causing you to turn and face him with a puzzled look.

“Go,” he encourages you. “I’ll go back to my chambers.”

Your eyebrows slowly furrow. “Are you sure? You could join us.” You let him know kindly.

Aemond shakes his head. “It’s okay, he’s your father.”

“My father won’t get us in trouble for being awake so late,” you try to assure him.

But Aemond remains insistent. “It’s quite alright. I’ll see you on the morrow.”

You don’t try and fight him anymore and nod in agreement.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, matching a small soft smile with his words.

You shoot him a sweet smile in return. “Goodnight, Aemond.” You then turn and join your father out on the balcony.

Albeit he doesn’t turn when he hears the door close, so you call out to him softly. “Father?”

Said man lifts his head and peers back. When he realizes it’s you he blinks in slight shock whilst a smile tugs on his lips. “What are you doing here? It's late.”

You make your way to him and shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. And I…saw you down here alone so I wanted to keep you company.”

Rather than countering with disapproval, your father begins to smile. “You were on the roofs weren’t you?” He knows you too well.

Still, you act shocked and clueless, but he sees through you.

“You gave it away when you said “down here”, and you’re fiddling with your fingers.”

You look down and catch your involuntary act and stop right away whilst you stop beside him against the railing.

“I hope you remember what your mother says about being up there,” your father continues with a more strict tone.

“Well,” you quip innocently. “She won’t know if she doesn’t find out.”

Your father scoffs in amusement as his smile widens. “Alright. As long as you're careful though. Okay?”

You rest your hands on the stone railing and nod. “Always,” you assure him.

He hums and then looks ahead, causing his smile to fall and your curiosity to heighten. “Are you okay, father?”

Said man blinks in disbelief at your question. You’ve worried about him before, you, perhaps more than the other children. And that can be because you’re older and understand more, or because you are his only legitimate child. Whatever the reason, you were the closest to him out of the other two kids.

“I just miss my sister,” your father admits.

You hum softly and look up to the starry sky. “I know,” you begin to add softly. “Perhaps it’s not the same, but I miss my cousins Baela and Rhaena too. And when I do, I find comfort in gazing at the sky. I watch the stars and the moon and know that even if they’re far away, we’re still close in some way because regardless of distance, we all look up at the same sky, we all live under the same stars.”

You flicker your eyes to your father and catch a gleam in his eyes while a tender smile paints his face.

“That’s good,” he says softly and reaches over to pat your shoulder. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

You mirror his smile and look up at the sky. He follows your line of gaze and smiles wider.

“Thank you,” he whispers to the stars.

You look over at him and offer him a sweet grin. “Of course. Now,” you roll out and lean back as you grip onto the railing. “Serious question.”

Your father scoffs softly and probes. “Okay. Share.”

“If I asked you to take me voyaging, would you?” You ask, and turn on your heels to face him excitedly.

“Voyaging?” He questions.

You nod eagerly. “Yes!” You exclaim. “Voyaging. You could teach me how to sail. I’ve asked my grandfather Corlys, but he says I should instead learn how to sew correctly.” You huff.

Your father chuckles softly. “You are terrible.”

You pout. “Well there are better things to do,” you grumble and roll your eyes. “Besides, the Septa is such a prude—Anway…we wouldn't even have to go far, just maybe across the narrow sea?” You bat your lashes so you can try and pursue him more effectively.

“Well,” your father sighs. “I don’t know how your mother would feel about that, but I can tell you one thing, I can teach you how to sail.”

Your eyes widen with joy. “Really?!” You lean forward and grab his arm. “You really mean it father?”

His smirk turns slightly smug and he nods. “I could.”

You squeal and turn to hook your arm around his. “And then you’d teach me how to wield a sword?”

Your father begins to walk you back inside whilst he answers. “Depends how well you master sailing.”

“Alright,” you nod. “Alright, I can accept that.”

“Can you accept going to bed?” Your father rebuttals with a joke. “The hour is late.”

“Hm, I suppose I could. So when will our first lesson be?” You press.

Your father meets your gaze and matches your smirk. “I’ll let you know.”

You smile and nod with contentment.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Soft thrashes echo around the courtyard as your brothers Lucerys and Jacaerys, and uncles Aegon and Aemond train against straw men.

You aren’t really allowed to be watching them, the Septa says that it’s a waste of time, “you’re a Princess.” she says.

Pft, it’s boring going to lessons, besides, you learn far more by watching the boys swing their swords. You like to memorize them and then mirror those same actions at night when you can practice with a wooden sword you stole.

“Soften your knees,” you hear Ser Criston tell Aemond. “Feet light. Keep your feet light and your hands heavy.”

You drop your eyes to Aemond’s feet and proceed to shift your own feet to mirror his stance. He then moves on so you look over at Aegon and watch him swing his sword, but he gets distracted by passing servants so you roll your eyes and focus on Jace.

However, you then get interrupted. “Princess, how are lessons today?”

You jump, and when you peer back you see the friendly face of Ser Harwin walking past you.

Luckily it's not the Septa.

“I suppose well,” you sigh and shrug. “Ser Criston as always picks favorites.”

The knight hums and stops to turn and face you hidden under the shadows. “As always,” Ser Harwin agrees. “Where are you meant to be really?”

You begin to smirk. “Going to study High Valyrian, but I know it well, so I chose to take the long way there.”

Ser Harwin chuckles softly. “Alright, well keep your head low, you know how Ser Criston gets.”

You shoot him a happy smile and nod eagerly. The knight then walks away and joins the men in the courtyard, leaving you in your hiding spot like always. He never minds you secretly watching from the shadows, he's nice that way. Ser Criston on the other hand, “this is no place for a lady. Go.”

He’s such a prude too, he’s also an asshole to your brothers, and to Ser Harwin. Sometimes you wish to just stick a metal sword through his throat so he can shut up.

“…Let’s see if you can touch me,” you hear that same man say as you focus back on the courtyard. “You and your brother.”

You snicker and lift your head up higher to get a better view as Aegon and Aemond begin to fight against Ser Criston. And yes even though he’s an asshole, he’s still an impressive swordsman, you’ve learned a lot from watching him.

It’s also funny seeing him beat Aegon and Aemond.

“Ah,” Ser Harwin interjects. “Weapons up boys. Give your enemies no quarter.”

Ser Criston notices Ser Harwin, and leaves Aemond and Aegon defeated to slowly make his way to Ser Harwin.

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention…Ser Criston.”

Right!

“You question my method of—”

“Ah, young lady there you are!”

Seven Hells!

You jump away from your spot and spin around to face your Septa striding towards you with discontent and judgment.

“I’ve just lost my way,” you lie and begin to head back inside before she can pull your ear. “I was heading to lessons.”

Her footsteps follow you and she quickly counters back immediately. “No, you’ll go to your mother, she’ll know about your wrongdoings.”

Thank the gods! She never punishes you like she tells the Septa she will.

“Hello there sweet niece!”

Seven Hells…

You narrow your gaze and frown with disgust before you look over your shoulder and shoot Aegon a scowl.

He chuckles like always because he thinks it’s some game.

As if.

“Young lady,” the Septa begins to scold you as she quickens her pace to reach you. “He is the prince and your uncle. That is rude, and not ladylike whatsoever. Turn around and greet him back.”

You draw in a deep and annoyed breath and stop in your tracks to turn around. He’s already looking at you and so is Aemond. “Good Morrow, uncle Aegon,” you greet him with a monotone voice.

Aegon snickers and Aemond joins in this time. You’d counter, but the Septa would only scold you again, so you pick up the side of your skirt to just turn on your heels and walk back inside.

Once you reach your mother's chambers you’re relieved to see her, but the Septa walks in and snitches.

“Princess Rhaenyra, I found the Princess at the training yard once again, watching the boys train instead of attending her lessons. Something must be done about her wild behavior, it is not ladylike.”

Since you have your back turned to her you begin to smirk with pride.

“Ah,” your mother answers, “I’m sorry, Septa. I’ll have a word with her immediately, thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.”

The Septa hums in agreement before she excuses herself and leaves, letting you swipe the book off the table to turn and walk over to your mother to give her a hello kiss on the cheek before you turn your attention to your one-day-old brother. “Good Morrow, Joffrey, it’s so nice to see you.”

“If anyone asks, say I…” your mother trails off as you sit by her and open the book. “I kept you from flying for a week.”

You giggle and nod as you turn the pages. “Okay.”

“How are they doing?” She refers to your brothers.

“Uh, Ser Criston as always ignores them, but Ser Harwin just joined them so they should finally begin to learn more,” you share. “How are you feeling?” You ask and look at her with concern.

Your mother glances at your brother wide awake and staring at her before she gives you an answer. “I’m quite in pain today, the milk is quite uncomfortable.”

You frown since you can’t do anything to help her. The only thing you can offer her are words and attempts at some kind of aid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Is there anything I can do?”

Your mother meets your gaze and begins to smile softly. “No.” She shakes her head. “I’m quite fine. The girls should be here soon.”

Regardless of what she said you put the book down and walk over to the small table by the door to pour some water for her.

“I was thinking,” your mother interjects. “How would you like to accompany me when I attend the small council meetings? You could serve wine, as I did once.”

You meet her gaze with a slightly shocked look. “Really?” You ask as you walk back to her. “You mean it?”

Your mother nods. “Of course. They’re quite dreadful sometimes, but you want to be more involved so that should help.”

Your smile widens as you turn giddy. “Well, I would really love that. I think it’s a swell idea. Thank you, mother.”

Your mother offers you a happy smile and watches you move a small table closer to her so it’s easier to grab the water while she’s holding Joffrey.

“Thank you, my sweet girl,” she thanks you and caresses your hand as you join her back on the couch. “Now, would you read to me? I wouldn’t like you to fall behind on your Valyrian.”

This time without fuss you open the book back up and begin reading the words written on the pages. There’s a lot you know already, it’s just some pronunciation that you can’t get right at times, but your mother does offer her support so it makes it easier.

Not so soon after albeit, the Wetnurse comes so she steals her attention away, and since the topic isn’t as attention seeking to you, you keep reading.

That is until one of her handmaidens walks in looking quite distressed. “Princess.”

You lower your book to your lap and listen intently.

“There’s been an incident in the yard. Ser Harwin got in a fight with Ser Criston after an argument broke.”

You swallow thickly and quickly snap your eyes to your mother, noticing her smile had fallen and her gaze lost its happy gleam.

“Okay, thank you,” your mother directs at her handmaiden before she stands up and hands Joffrey to the Wet Nurse. “Do as I said.”

The Wetnurse leaves and your mother turns to face you. “You can stay here if it pleases you, my sweet, I’ll be back,” she says.

Without questioning her antics you nod to assure her and choose to stay in her chambers as she leaves through a secret door she has in her room; one reason being you really didn’t want to go to your room, and two, well you're curious to know what happened.

However, you might have an idea as to what led to that fight. Ser Criston probably provoked Ser Harwin with insinuations about your brothers. That’s the only reason why you’d think Ser Harwin would risk his position and hit a member of the Kingsguard.

But then again, Ser Criston deserves to get hit, he’s a dick. Yes hitting him probably only adds fire to the rumors about your brothers and Ser Harwin, but no one knows how insufferable Ser Criston is to your brothers, you, or your mother. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to, his dirty looks, and his cold shoulder when he shows kindness to Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Queen Alicent is enough to let you know he doesn’t like either of you.

Who knows why?

Regardless, your mother returns shortly after with an even more glum look painted on her face, meaning she overheard nothing good.

“To ease the pain, Princess,” her handmaiden lets her know as she rinses the cloth.

Your mother remains quiet and lets the handmaiden help her, whilst she now breaks her silence to speak to you. “Why don’t you keep reading to me, yes? You were doing so good.”

“Okay.” You give in to do as she says without probing, even if you’re dying to know what she heard, and even as singing begins to echo out in the hall, getting louder and louder, and also recognizable as the people get closer.

The moment you know it’s your father and his…Paramour, singing, you pause and end up sharing a knowing glance with your mother before the doors open and your father stumbles in with Ser Qarl.

“My dear wife,” your father greets with a chuckle. “My beautiful daughter.”

You look over at the man and offer him a sweet smile, noticing that he in fact is drunk; you can tell by his happy smile and his unbuttoned coat.

“Princess,” Ser Qarl greets your mother and then looks over at you. “Princess.”

“Hello, Ser Qarl,” you greet back, and then leave your book as you stand up since going off by the hardened look on your mother's face, what follows seems private and unpleasant.

“Oh…I fell down,” your father interjects and then snickers.

Yeah, he’s incredibly drunk. Again.

“I’m going to check on my brothers,” you let your mother know before you press a kiss on her cheek.

“Okay,” she answers and returns a kiss to your cheek. You then walk over to the door and stop by your father.

“Bye father,” you say with a smile regardless of his current state.

“Oh you’re leaving,” he counters and grabs your arm. “Why don’t you stay?” He turns to face your mother and then looks at Ser Qarl. “You should have heard what she told me last night. It was the sweetest thing.”

You grab his arm to gently slide your arm from his grasp. “I’m going to check on the boys, father, really,” you cut him off and go on your tiptoes to press a peck on his cheek. “Goodbye.”

“I’ll see you later then, my darling,” he doesn’t argue—or he just doesn’t have the right mind right now to try. Which benefits you, he’s drunk, he gets quite annoying when he’s so drunk so it’s good he didn’t insist.

Yet the curiosity in you does want you to stay back and listen to what your mother was going to tell him—but no, you can’t. Besides, she probably would’ve told you to leave either way….

That doesn’t mean you can’t just snoop.

No, you can’t. You’ll know soon. You can’t give in to temptation even if it’s killing you. You can’t!

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“…It is Lord Blackwood’s contention, therefore, that the Brackens moved the boundary stones in the dead of the night and put their horses to graze in his field.”

Okay, yes, the excitement of accompanying your mother to these small council meetings has quickly washed away. All they do is talk and talk over insignificant matters.

“Why was this issue not brought before Lord Grover?” Queen Alicent asks. “Has he grown so feeble he cannot settle a quarrel over rocks?”

The Lords and others have stopped asking for wine halfway through this damned meeting, making for a dull wait.

“I’ve heard a tale that Lord Grover’s son now rules Riverrun in all but name,” a Lord adds.

“Well, he is also a Tully and this remains a Tully problem,” Alicent says.

“I would agree,” your grandfather interjects, letting Lord Tyland now cut in.

“If we may move on, my lords—”

“And yet,” your mother cuts him off, continuing with the previous matter. “The Brackens and the Blackwoods will use any excuse to spill each other's blood. So this dispute bears looking into. There will be countryfolk who know where the lines have been drawn for generations.”

“That is easy enough,” the Lord Hand agrees, causing Queen Alicent to scoff quietly in disagreement.

“Of course.” She shakes her head and takes a sip of wine with that same bitchy attitude she always bestows your mother, you, and your siblings. She doesn’t try to hide it either, making for yet someone else you dislike.

“Ser Tyland,” the Hand returns to his matter.

“Uh, we should address the latest developments in the Stepstones, my Lords.”

Your grandfather groans and comments with discontent. “Will we ever be shut of that blasted place?”

“If you ask me, I think the Blackwoods have the upper hand,” Lord Beesbury randomly cuts in with a topic already dealt with.

“We’ve moved on to the Stepstones, Lord Beesbury,” the Maester informs the old lord, causing you to look over at your mother to meet her gaze and share an amused look you quickly hide.

“And the Triarchy’s new alliance with Dorne,” Ser Tyland adds and makes sure to say it loud enough so Lord Beesbury can hear, only making you drop your head to hide your stifled smile.

“I was hoping our negotiations with Sunspear might persuade them to see reason,” your grandfather adds before coughing into his cloth. “To trust a Martell is to be disappointed.”

“And where, I wonder, is our Prince Daemon?” A lord asks. “Or I suppose I should call him King, as he styled himself when he won a battle there…once.”

You see the man smirk faintly as he fills with pride at his own comment only because the man he speaks of isn’t here. You’ve heard of his, uh, rash behavior, so you’d like to hear the Lord dare say the same thing with your uncle here.

He wouldn’t.

“…we have left it undefended,” you focus back on the conversation as your mother speaks. “There should’ve been fortifications built, watchtowers, a fleet of ships, a garrison of soldiers sent to hold our ground.”

“We cannot afford it,” Alicent counters. “Our coffers are great, but not infinite. We must consider the cost to our subjects.”

“I must agree—”

“The cost of war is greater,” your mother cuts Lord Beesbury off. “But we have been lax and the old monster now lifts its head.”

You drift your gaze to Alicent to wait for what she’d respond with, but a second of silence passes as she just glowers at your mother before she responds with ignorance. “Let us be finished.”

“Yes,” your grandfather breathes out with exhaustion, letting the other lords get up.

Albeit your mother stays seated and continues the meeting as everyone is out of their seats. “Wait. I wish to speak.”

You blink in confusion and focus on her as everyone except Alicent sits back down, and she continues.

“I have felt the…strife…” your mother begins to say. “Between our families of late, my Queen. And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that, we were friends.”

You glance at Alicent and see her expression has not softened whatsoever, she remains shooting glares and looking uninterested in what your mother has to say.

“My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me,” your mother adds, making you look down at your hands clasped together and sigh softly with…uneasiness. “I propose we betroth him to your daughter, Helaena. And my only daughter will inherit Dragonstone when I ascend the Throne…”

You blink and look over at your mother at the mention of your name, feeling your face slowly release the tension you began to have on your jaw.

“I propose we betroth her to your son, Aemond.” She offers in hopes for peace.

And at the sound of this news, finally, your interest is piqued, and a soft smile breaks on your face. Not only that but your grandfather glances over at you to share the same happiness with his smile.

“Ally ourselves,” your mother tries to further pursue the Queen. “Once and for all. Let them rule together.”

“A most judicious proposition,” your grandfather agrees with a smile.

Yet when you look over at Alicent, you don’t see that same joy.

“Additionally,” your mother goes on. “If Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs your son Aemond will have his choice of them…a symbol of our goodwill.”

Your smile widens as you feel glad for Aemond having more chances to bond with his own dragon.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent calls out with a serious tone.

You look over at Alicent and wait for what she has to say on the matter, but instead, she goes quiet and just watches your mother, causing you to follow her line of gaze and notice that your mother is leaking milk.

“Oh,” your mother says as she covers her breasts. “Seven Hells.”

You glance around to check if you have anything you could give her so she can cover up and avoid the stares from the men, but you have nothing to hand her. And that only makes you feel bad for her.

“My dear,” your grandfather interjects. “A dragon's egg is a handsome gift.”

“The King and I thank you for your offer and we will consider it duly.” Alicent bounces on after her husband. “You must rest now, husband.” She moves on to your grandfather's side, urging him to get up to finally end the meeting.

“Yes,” he agrees and gets up. Before he turns to walk away he stops before you and caresses your chin with a sweet smile on his face. “Have a pleasant day, darling.”

You beam at him and gently grasp his hand. “And you grandfather.”

Before he leaves and takes his hand away, you quickly take the shell from your pocket that you collected not so long ago and pass it to him.

When he feels what he’s now holding he pulls his hand away and glances at the delicate shell and chuckles softly. “Oh, why, what a wonderful surprise. Thank you.” He whispers excitedly and pats your shoulder before he’s whisked away, making the other lords scurry out after him, and ultimately leaving your mother and you to leave the room last.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention the proposal before my Sweet. Do you like it though?” She asks you as you walk with her to her chambers.

You turn your head to meet her gaze and nod, noticing she looks even more upset now than seconds ago. Her gaze also looks distant.

“Yes, I do,” you assure her so she can know that she at least got someone to agree with her. “Aemond and I are rather good friends. He’s very nice to me.”

Your mother blinks and focuses on you to offer you a faint smile. “Good, that makes me happy. You’ll make a good pair.”

You glance ahead and feel even more giddy at the thought of telling him, and feel especially more happy at the idea that you wouldn’t have to leave after all.

“Do you think the Queen will accept?” You can’t help but ask. “Grandfather seems quite content with the proposals.”

Your mother shrugs. “I hope she does, but we'll see.”

You hope she does, you really hope so.

“May I go tell him?” You blurt with a growing smile.

Your mother notices your joy and can’t help but smile, albeit you do notice it is a bit strained as her attention wavers between you and her thoughts. “Yes, go on, but remember it’s not official yet.”

You shoot her a beaming grin before you pick up your gowns skirt to run up the stairs and hurry to Aemond’s chambers where you know he’ll be at this time of day. Once you finally reach his quarters you knock once and don’t wait a second before you knock repeatedly until the moment the door opens and he’s there with an annoyed expression.

“I assumed it was you with that annoying knocking,” he remarks.

You beam at him and then grab his arm to pull him out of his chambers since you aren't allowed to be in his quarters alone. “Guess what?” You ask in a sing-song voice while you begin to walk down the hall.

Aemond sighs deeply. “You know I hate playing this game with you.”

You roll your eyes and ignore his comment to share the news. “I was at the small council meeting and received glorious news.”

Aemond finally gets his interest piqued and looks at you with a curious stare, whilst you begin to only smile wider.

“My mother proposed that we get married and rule Dragonstone,” you share giddily.

Aemond’s eyes slowly widen, and you notice he swallows thickly.

“Isn’t that great?” You probe and grab his hand. “That means I wouldn’t have to leave and we won’t have to be apart.”

Aemond’s gaze lingers on yours for a moment without any reaction whatsoever. It was beginning to discourage you, but he slowly begins to smile; it’s a faint gesture, but he does smile and you take it as a good sign.

“Yes,” he agrees softly. “That’s good news. What did my mother say?”

Your smile falters at that question, but you keep trying to remain hopeful. “She said she’d think about it. I hope she agrees. I don’t think I want to marry anyone else truthfully.” You look ahead and let his hand go to clasp yours.

“Yes,” Aemond comments. “Me neither.”

A heat grows on your cheeks, and you feel so flustered that you almost can’t talk, but you add softly. “Anyway, that’s all the worthwhile news I had to share. I hope your mother agrees.”

“Me too,” Aemond agrees, heightening your excitement and causing it to last all day.

It's such a bubbling excitement that you could hardly sleep. That's all that invaded your mind, that proposal and the hope that they’d accept so you wouldn't have to leave, and so you wouldn’t marry anyone else but your best friend.

However, as that excitement shone over you, a dark cloud soon lurked. Besides the pain you know your mother feels, there’s that dark stormy cloud that still looms over her, only now it’s far more unruly and out of control, causing your shining excitement to slowly dim.

Especially when she wouldn't let you leave as Ser Harwin came to her chambers to say his goodbyes before leaving for Harrenhal.

Your assumption was right, he did fight Ser Criston because of insinuations. And yes, it doesn’t prove anything, they could pass it as just a snap of emotions on Ser Harwin’s part, but he's leaving regardless.

“…be good to your mother and sister, lads,” you hear Ser Harwin tell both Lucerys and Jacaerys. “I’ll visit when I can.” His leather creaks as he stands up. “But that may be some time.”

Quick footsteps sound on the floor, causing you to look up from your book and catch Jacaerys approaching your mother.

“Jace,” she mutters as she begins to caress the back of his head.

Ser Harwin then follows after your brother with that same soft look he always seemed to have around them, your mother, and even you.

“I will return,” the Knight tells your brother before he lifts his chin. “I promise.”

Your brother nods, letting Ser Harwin part away to approach your mother, but as he does, you look back at your book and pretend to read since you can’t actually bring yourself to focus.

Silence follows for a moment before you hear a kiss and then sweet words that follow by the same man. “I will be a stranger when we meet again.”

More silence follows, causing you to slowly lift your eyes, noticing that Ser Harwin and your mother were just holding each other's gazes. It was a gleaming gaze from him, you can’t read hers since her back is facing you, but you did know she cared for him, so you imagine it's as hurt as his.

But even still them looking at each other with so much tenderness and longing makes you wish for something as passionate as what they had. You want someone to look at you like how Ser Harwin looks at your mother, soft and lovingly.

“Princess,” he bows his head softly before his eyes begin to drift past her shoulder to where you are, so you hastily pretend to be reading once more and let him approach you before you look up and act clueless.

“Farewell sweet Princess, we’ll see each other again someday. But until then, may you let no one change who you are.” He offers you the same sweet smile he had given your brothers, so you can't help but offer him a kind smile as well before a response.

“Farewell Ser Harwin, may your journey home be pleasant.”

The knight offers you one last smile before he turns to collect his stuff to finally leave once and for all. Once he makes it outside though, Jacaerys runs after Ser Harwin but comes to a stop just past the chamber doors. Your mother follows and they both watch the Knight walk away.

“We will exchange letters by raven,” your mother assures Jacaerys. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Why do I look different from my sister?” Jacaerys bluntly asks your mother, causing you to blink in disbelief and straighten up to keep listening. “Is Harwin Strong my father? Am I a bastard?”

Your mother looks back to check if Lucerys is listening, but he isn’t; he's too distracted by his own thing.

“You are a Targaryen,” your mother assures your brother. “Same as your sister. That’s all that matters.”

Jacaerys says nothing in return, he doesn’t look content with her response, but it lets your mother press a kiss on his forehead before urging him back inside and following shortly after.

And now that is dealt with you close your book and get up to try and leave. “May I take my leave, mother? I wanted to go out to the gardens with Helaena.”

Your mother's gaze snaps to you and she swallows thickly before she approaches you with an even darker cloud that begins to creep toward you now.

“I need to tell you something,” she says and grabs your shoulder before cupping your cheek. “We’re going to be leaving.”

Just like that the cloud fully looms over you now, basking you in its darkness and gloom. “What?” You gasp in disbelief.

“My sweet please,” she mutters quietly. “Make a good example for your brothers.”

You draw in a deep breath and only frown deeper.

“It’s for the best,” she tries to convince you without making too much of a fuss. “Our time here has come to an end.”

You shake your head. “But what of the proposals? Aemond?” You argue.

“If Alicent agrees then you’ll come back when you’re older, okay?” She tries to assure you. “You can always exchange letters.”

You let out a shaky sigh, and lose your gaze on the floor as you begin to bite the inside of your cheek. “And grandfather?” You ask.

Your mother lets out a soft sigh, it’s shaky, but she responds as best as she can. “We’ll send ravens. We’ll be better at Dragonstone.”

If this is going to happen, if you are going to leave here then there’s only one thing that can assure you. “Will we leave together?” You ask and slowly meet her gaze. “All of us? Even father?”

Your mother caresses your cheek and nods. “Of course. We’re all going home.”

Home.

It’s only home as long as your family is there with you. So as long as that’s intact then it’s okay. You’ll be happy to go home.

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Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne