#aemonds mommy issues

[cmhcny]

like did aemond have horrible mommy issues? Yes. Was this why he was attracted to alys aka an older woman able to give him the comfort he needed? Probably. Was she manipulating him and (potentially led him to his death, perHAPS)? Im not saying that they're not a problematic ship but i really wanna see how HBO will interpret their relationship.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part I: An Important Guest

A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. This is possibly only the beginning (credit for the divider goes to @kawaii-lau)

126 AC

Some months after the funeral of the Lady Laena Velaryon, wife of the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen there was much clamor in the Red Keep. For the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower had been summoned to court after more than a decade away from the intrigue and politics that surrounded the throne and her family. Not much was known about the sister of the Queen apart from what had been known from her previous shorts visits in the early years of her sisters marriage and births of the younger royal children. The elder Hightower girl had been married two years prior to Alicent's own marriage to the King.

Hoping for a future alliance with the house of his eldest daughter's husband, Otto had the girl married to the younger brother of Qoren Martell who served as the reigning Prince of Dorne. But upon the death of his son by law, it was expected by the Hand of the King that his daughter would return to follow her filial duty of remarrying once more upon her return. Only... the man had not accounted for how his grandchildren would come to react to the arrival of their long unseen aunt.

--------

Aemond was positively annoyed with his older brother Aegon, "You could not think to ready yourself for our guests arrival ahead of time? Must you always make the lot of us appear inadequate because you choose to drink yourself into a stupor?"

Halaena, Aegon, and Aemond were specifically told to prepare for an important guests arrival but because of the elder amongst the three not being ready on time, it appeared that they would be late in their greetings. In his haste to reach the throne room faster, Aemond almost stumbled over his own feet and he cursed quietly to himself as he attempted to avoid tripping.

"Need help walking, do you Aemond?" Aegon giggled.

"I can walk just fine," Aemond mumbled. "I simply need a bit more time to recover my sense of balance on account of my... my eye."

The younger Targaryens response quieted his brother and the elder turned his attention to their sister.

"Were you told anything about who our important guest is meant to be?" Aegon asked. "One would think that if they were such an important person, we would all have to be alongside our mother and grandsire by the entrance."

Halaena shook her head, "I think we've met them before, but I cannot be certain if it's who I think it might be."

"Oh and pray tell, wise Halaena. Who could it be?" Aegon mocked.

"Didn't mother happen to receive a raven some weeks ago that our uncle the second prince of Dorne, the husband of our aunt had passed from the sweating sickness."

"Why on earth would that woman come?" the eldest asked, "I don't think she has come to visit King's Landing since the birth of our dear Aemond. Not that I could begrudge the woman, I heard that it was a miracle our grandsire married her to a Dornish prince since she apparently was deformed and all found her a lost cause."

"Perhaps if you listened when Mother informed you about who our guest would be, then we would all know, now wouldn't we?" Aemond huffed. "And don't speak of our aunt that way! Show some respect!"

"It doesn't matter, we will know soon enough if it truly is her or not, and it's not as if our aunt will ever know, I doubt it could be her" Aegon grumbled.

The doors to the throne room were opened upon their arrival and all but one turned to look at the trio that had come into the room quite late. The children could see the frown that their mother wore clear as day when she looked upon them, her disapproval apparent at their actions. While their grandsire had a near equal downturn of his lips but it was more in his eyes that one could see the disappointment at the trio.

"Ah, so good of my grandchildren to finally make their appearance!" said ser Otto. "We had all wondered when you might grace us with your presence!"

Aegon merely rolled his eyes at the words of his grandsire, while Aemond and Halaena looked down in embarrassment.

"Oh come now Father, I am sure that my nephews and niece meant no harm and tried to make haste. They couldn't have expected that I would be the one to arrive."

Three sets of eyes were quick to look over at the person who spoke.

They could only see her profile, but it was apparent that the person could be no other person than their elusive aunt. The eldest daughter to Otto Hightower and his wife Alyrie Florten, widow of Prince Doran of House Martell, the Lady (Y/N) Hightower.

She wasn't an imposing figure, in fact, compared to her father and younger sister. Their aunt was not much, but... that is actually something that they appreciated about the woman. All their lives, the siblings had such imposing men and women that surrounded them or directed them at all times, but not (Y/N). She stood out in a gentle way, a steadiness to her presence. Unlike the prim and elegant hairstyles of the court, it was loosened and decorated with a few blossoms. Her gown was a pale green and embroidered with the symbols of both her own house and that of her late husband, with towers and suns. But most of all, there was no dismay in her gaze as she looked at them from the corner of her eye, rather she smiled affectionately and warmly.

"Come children," Alicent guided them closer. "Come and greet your aunt." And in a harsh whisper to Aegon said, "And don't even think about commenting on her appeareance!"

When their aunt fully turned to them, all held back a gasp when they saw her full countenance. A glassy grey eye stood out on the left hand side of her face that had obviously been burned. Carefully she stepped toward them and the three were ushered forward until they stood only a step away from her.

Unwaveringly she smiled at the trio and approached Aegon first, "You have grown much in the time since I last saw you."

Hesitantly, she reached to cup his face in her hand and the boy flinched, this stopped her movements and made her smile drop slightly. Carefully she waved her hand and asked, "May I?"

Tentatively, Aegon nodded and allowed his aunt to softly cradle his face in her hands. Her one good eye flickered across his face and she smiled at him once more, "Such a handsome young man. Must be the Hightower in you, because you and I seem to share the good looks."

His aunt's comment seemed to release the breath that the group was holding, because Aegon, Halaena, and Aemond couldn't help but giggle. A soft warmth settling in their bodies as they attempted to stifle their uncontrollable laughs.

Alicent saw their laughter as rude and intended on scolding them, but a raised hand from her sister was enough to have her hold her tongue.

Stepping away from her elder nephew, (Y/N) noticed how Halaena's gaze shifted away from her own and understood. She simply curtsied to the girl, "I look forward to getting know you more Halaena and perhaps you could show me your things of interest."

Halaena timidly smiled and curtsied in return, "I like all sorts of insects."

"I am sure you do, sweet girl."

And lastly, her gaze turned to her younger nephew that was shuffling nervously where he stood.

Quietly he asked, "Does it still hurt you?"

Her smile never wavered as she answered, "Thank you for your kind consideration, nephew. Sometimes, it does ache but I am fine now."

A gentle calm settled amongst them, but it was disturbed when ser Otto cleared his throat. "Come, dinner has been prepared and we have dallied long enough. I am sure you have needed a hearty meal."

"Of course, Father" (Y/N) agreed. "I am sure we can continue with pleasantries over a delicious meal."

The Hand of the King, carefully led his daughters out the room and so everyone else took this as a sign to clear the area. But the siblings stayed behind, a clear look between them that there were things they would need to talk about.

Tag List:

@minaxcarter, @hotleaf-juice, @pikomin, @deltamoon666, @cococrazy18, @firefairy, @dracaryxzs, @snowbunny58, @lacherrysouldy, @only4thefics, @queen-luna-007, @ambrivertenergy, @kayllineb12

[bbygirl-aemond]

"in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure" i really hope they're setting up alys maneuvering daemon and aemond against each other specifically to take them both out <3

[internet-rat]

Distracting him while he is reading - Aemond x wife!reader

NSFW below cut~

Just you soft domming him~

As you approached Aemond, the sight of him absorbed in his studies, his focus unwavering, struck a chord of admiration within you. His dedication, the way he hunched over scrolls and texts, his silver hair falling slightly over his intense gaze, added layers to the man you loved—both fierce warrior and keen scholar. Your presence behind him was a silent declaration of your affection, and your hands on his chest, a gentle but firm reminder of the intimacy you shared.

You leaned over, your lips brushing the top of his head in a tender, possessive gesture. The contact was light but symbolic, marking him as yours in a way that was intimate and personal. Your voice, teasing yet laced with dominance, broke the silence, rippling through the air with a warmth that contrasted the cool, scholarly atmosphere of the room.

"Look at you... so studious..."

The words were playful but carried with them an undercurrent of pride and affection. Aemond's reaction was immediate; he straightened slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, an indication of the pleasure your presence and recognition brought him. His hand reached up to cover yours, pressing it against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch.

His voice, when he spoke, was content, deeply resonant with the layers of emotion your proximity evoked. "For the realm, my love, and for us. Knowledge is as much a weapon as a sword in the right hands." His words acknowledged the dual purpose of his studies, for the kingdom he might one day rule and the life he built with you.

Turning his chair slightly, he looked up at you, his lilac eye shining with a light that was reserved just for these moments, away from the eyes of the court. "But even the most devoted scholar needs a distraction... especially one as delightful as you." His finger traced a line up your arm, a tender gesture that spoke volumes of his deep affection and need for you.

The dynamic between you, the shift from your dominant tease to his studious demeanor, played out like a well-rehearsed dance, each knowing their role perfectly, each finding joy and strength in the balance you maintained.

Your teasing smile widened as you watched the reaction dance across Aemond's features, the edge of vulnerability and anticipation that only you could draw out with your command. The power of your gentle, dominant voice, coupled with the intimate familiarity of your actions, was an intoxicating blend that effortlessly recalibrated the atmosphere in the room.

"Keep reading..." you whispered, the directive clear, carrying an implicit challenge that stirred him deeper. It was a game of control, beautifully executed, where your dominance seamlessly intertwined with his submission, each act designed to heighten and play upon the layers of your unique bond.

With one hand, you delicately unbuttoned the top of his shirt, slipping inside to trace the lines of his chest. Your fingers danced lightly over his skin, exploring the familiar terrain with a touch that was both loving and calculated to elicit a specific response. The intimacy of the contact sent a shiver through him, a testament to the potency of your touch.

Meanwhile, your other hand ventured lower, deftly freeing his member from the confines of his clothing. The air of the room, previously filled with the musty scent of old books and ink, now pulsed with the more primal scent of arousal. Your fingers encircled him gently at first, then with firmer intent, beginning a slow, deliberate stroke that contrasted sharply with the scholarly stillness around you.

Aemond’s breath hitched, his eyes flickering under the strain of concentrating on the text before him. The dual sensations of your hands—one teasing his chest and the other coaxing his arousal—created a delicious tension within him. His grip on the scroll tightened slightly, a silent testament to the effort it took to obey your command to keep reading.

His voice, when he spoke, was strained but laced with a dark amusement at the game you played so skillfully. "Is this my reward for diligence, or a test of my focus, my queen?" he asked, the words a husky murmur that vibrated with the underlying thrill of your shared interplay.

"Why not both, pretty boy?" Your reply, playful yet laced with command, echoed in the quiet of the room, each word accentuating the dual nature of your actions—a reward mingled with a challenge. Your touch grew more intent, your hand moving rhythmically over his now slick member, enhancing each stroke with the natural lubrication of his arousal. The firm grip and calculated motions stirred him further into the depths of submission.

At the same time, your other hand kept caressing his chest, fingers finding a nipple and squeezing gently, adding layers of sensation that mingled pain with pleasure—a tactile whisper that contrasted sharply with the more overt stimulation elsewhere. Each squeeze was a punctuation, a reminder of your control and his surrender.

Leaning closer, your lips brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck, the kiss soft but possessing an underlying promise of more. The subtle intrusion of your teeth, nipping delicately at his flesh, drew a suppressed groan from him, a sound he struggled to contain beneath the guise of studious focus.

"Keep reading, sweetie," you whispered directly into his ear, your voice a soft command wrapped in velvet dominance. The words, tender yet unyielding, were a tether, holding him to the task even as your actions sought to pull him away into sensuous abandon.

Aemond's eyes fluttered, his focus visibly wavering as he attempted to process the text before him. Each word seemed to swim, blurring under the dual assault of pleasure and mild pain. His responses became more pronounced, a soft stutter or twitch here and there, signs of his unraveling under your expert touch.

His submission was beautiful, a delicate balance of maintaining his role even as he succumbed to the sensations you so skillfully provoked. His voice, when he next spoke, carried a tremor, a delightful indication of his internal struggle. "I—I am trying, my queen," he managed, the words tinged with a desperation that was both adorable and deeply satisfying.

This dance of dominance and submission, enacted within the quiet sanctum of Aemond’s study, was a testament to the profound connection and trust between you, a dialogue of desire spoken in touches and whispers, each moment building upon the last to create a tapestry of shared intimacy and power.

The playful torment you wrought upon Aemond—this blend of intellectual challenge and sensual overload—was exquisitely torturous. As your tongue trailed a slow, deliberate path along his neck, followed by a teasing nip that sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through him, his body tensed under the dual assault of sensation and the relentless pace of your hand.

You stroked him faster, the slick glide of your fingers coaxing him ever closer to the edge of release, yet you demanded his attention remain on the scholarly task at hand. Your voice, a sultry murmur beside his ear, was both a caress and a command, "Mhm~ What does that line there say about Aegon the Conqueror? Tell me, my sweet..."

The juxtaposition of his historical studies and the physical ecstasy you elicited was a wicked game, one that frayed the edges of his concentration. Aemond's eye darted towards the book, his gaze attempting to focus on the words that now danced mockingly before him. His voice, a breathy mixture of arousal and frustration, struggled for coherence. "It—it says that Aegon... he unified the kingdoms... through—ah, through power and—"

His words faltered, drowned out by the rising tide of pleasure that threatened to wash away all semblance of scholarly thought. The intensity of your touch, the sensual provocations you delivered, left little room for anything but the raw, primal need to give in to the sensations overwhelming him.

As you savored the intoxicating blend of his desperation and arousal, your kisses trailed along his neck, each a branding of possession and comfort. Your hand movements intensified, a relentless rhythm designed to push him beyond the brink of his restraint. He was beautifully unraveled, thoroughly under your control, and completely at the mercy of your touch.

Into the curve of his ear, your voice, soft yet laced with undeniable authority, coaxed him further towards release. "Such a good boy~ Do you want to cum?" The words, tender yet commanding, were all it took to breach the last of his defenses.

Aemond's response was a choked moan, his body tensing as he teetered on the edge of surrender. "Yes, please, my queen... I need to..." His plea was fervent, a raw admission of his need, underscored by the overwhelming desire to obey and relinquish all control to you.

Your grip tightened slightly, your pace quickening in answer to his desperate plea, guiding him lovingly yet firmly toward climax. It was a powerful affirmation of the trust and dynamic you shared, the unspoken promise that you would always provide what he needed most.

With the full weight of your command behind it, you quickened your strokes to a feverish pace, each movement precise and calculated to bring him to the pinnacle of pleasure. "Cum," you whispered, the word not just a permission but an order, delivered with a dominating tenderness that left no room for hesitation.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat, a strangled sound of both desperation and relief. His body reacted instinctively to your command, muscle tension coiling tighter, his entire being focused on the brink of release. The intensity of your touch, the commanding sultry tone of your voice, and the overwhelming need to obey pushed him over the edge.

The climax, when it came, was shattering. Aemond cried out, his voice breaking with the raw intensity of his release. His body shuddered under your hands, waves of pleasure rolling through him in powerful surges as he gave himself over to the sensations you had drawn out of him.

As he trembled, you slowed your touches, gently easing him through the aftershocks of his profound release. Your presence, both commanding and nurturing, enveloped him, a reminder of the safety and care interwoven with the strict control you exerted. In this moment, Aemond was utterly yours, bound by the deep, undeniable connection you shared, underscored by the trust and surrender that defined your relationship.

As Aemond's breathing gradually steadied, you pulled him close into a tender embrace, giving him the comfort and security he needed after the intensity of his release. You guided his head to rest against your chest, allowing him the intimate solace of burying his face in the softness of your breasts. The warmth of your body enveloped him, a soothing balm to the raw vulnerability he had just experienced.

Gently, you kissed the top of his head, a gesture filled with affection and care. Each touch reinforced the safety and love that surrounded him when he was with you. In this quiet, protected space, free from the demands of his title and the expectations of the court, Aemond could simply be himself—loved and cherished.

"I love you so much, my darling," you whispered, your voice a soft melody that floated in the air around him. The simple, heartfelt declaration was more than just words; it was a reaffirmation of the deep, enduring bond you shared. It was your way of showing him that no matter how fierce the battles he faced outside these walls, within them, he was always your beloved, your pretty boy, deserving of all the love and care you could give.

Feeling the resonance of your words, Aemond sighed contentedly, the tension further melting away under your ministrations. His arms wrapped around you, holding on to you as if you were his anchor in a tumultuous sea. In this embrace, encircled by your strength and tenderness, Aemond found a profound sense of peace and belonging, his heart secure in the knowledge that he was truly loved.

[lilycatttt]

IM 100% SURE I CAN FIX HIM AND TAKE ALL HIS PAIN AWAY

[federicaarmanni]

Rip Sigmund Freud, you would have loved House of the Dragon.

[kazz-brekker]

i think that ewan mitchell has perhaps accidentally absorbed too much of aemond's character because since this season started i have come across at least 3 interviews where someone asks him if aemond has mommy issues and he's just like "no…he just isn't receiving the love that he wants from alicent so he's seeking it out from other maternal figures." sir that is a textbook example of mommy issues.

[ficzhub]

The Foreign Woman

Part 5

Aemond Targeryen x Older Myrish OC (Alexyse Majeríz)

✨✨✨✨

CW: hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, obsessive behavior, dysfunctional family, mommy issues, younger boys crush on older girl, duplicitous OC, creepy crush, jealous Aemond Targaryen, envious Aegon II Targaryen, emotional manipulation, possessive Aemond Targaryen, jealous Aegon II Targaryen, power imbalance, power dynamics, sex work, touch starved, prince/maid, bed sharing, elitism.

✨✨✨✨

Doubled

As relaxed as Aemond felt being held by his Maery for the seventh night in a row, he couldn't help but wake up a few times through the night and marvel at her face, at her closeness, at her scent that's changed slightly from when she'd first laid here and into something softer and more subtle throughout the night. She unfortunately makes sure to wake up well before the sun rises to catch Ms.Mochel before the day really began. She always kisses Aemond's forehead and leaves him tucked in his bed nice and warm before getting ready for the day to speak with her proximate. He ends up getting up not long after her, but to his regularly scheduled classes and trainings instead of following her again, despite his wish to. If he wanted to keep being someone worth his Maery's time, he can't stop doing his duties. Ser Criston Cole has begun training him alongside his older brother and the other children in the castle and its surroundings, (previously his nephews) before breaking fasts. He tries to focus as much as he can but his mind keeps trailing back to his Maery, what she would be doing now and unfortunately, for who? Where in the castle would she be now? How long until his mother finally just sets her with just him permanently so he doesn't have to share her attention?

"You seem distracted, brother." Aegon says quietly by his right, watching Ser Cole and Ser Willis dueling.

Aemond looks up at him to see his annoying, smug smirk. "Is someone on your mind?"

Aemond refuses to indulge his brother's taunts with a response, Aegon didn't need to know about Maery or if there's anything else clouding him.

Unfortunately for him, Aegon is now more than intrigued with the very effective maid. It's not as though he had been blind. The girl's beautiful, striking even. Her dark curls barely staying under her bonnet in the braid often coming somewhat undone through the day and framing her round face with the fallen pieces. Her tawny skin contrasting with her doe-like black eyes, dark lashes and eyebrows, the pink pout of her full lips. He suspects she's Dornish, one of their bastards perhaps though he can't match her accent to any he'd met.

He'd watch her now when Aemond couldn't, see her changing their linens, bending over the bed to secure the corners, preparing the oils for their baths, still getting her milk from the ranch hand in the back of the castle despite his grievous injuries curtesy of Aemond, not that anyone else knew that. But what gives him the most enjoyment is the same thing that wounds his insides. He watches as she makes her way back to his little brother's room faithfully every night for a week now and coddles him, dotes on him, asks him about his day and holds him tenderly until he falls asleep with his face pressed against her ample busom, wrapping his arms around her middle to make sure she doesn't get away from him.

It's not that he doesn't want his brother to have the comfort he needs, he's glad he does. It makes him feel less guilty about his teasing. It's that he'd kill for just a taste of the same. He doesn't know when she leaves, but never asks a single thing of Aemond as she holds him, never scolds him, only gently corrects if he ever says or does anything wrong. She hums him sweet songs and grazes her fingers over his head and his back, he imagines Aemond has never slept better while Aegon hasn't slept well without milk of the poppy since he was seven. Why must it be only Aemond that gets to experience the genuine comfort and care of a beautiful woman? Why can't he get anyone to care for him like that? Why can no one show him even a second of love without expecting anything in return? She even dotes on Daeron and Helaena, on occasion. Well, as much as one can dote on Helaena.

The second night he saw "Maery" doing that for his brother, he decided he'd ask for that the next day at the brothel. He'd go alone, without his mates and see what had him longing so badly for the girl. He went inside, had one of the girls do exactly what he asked her to do but having to get up, with her acting so clinically afterwards and paying for it not a minute later only had him rushing to get home and sobbing to himself in his bed, reaching for the strongest wine he could get his hands on to distract from the emptiness he felt flooded with. The transactional nature of it, the cold attitude of the whore after, how false it all felt, it left him feeling worse than when the queen strikes him or when his grandsire gives him that look of total derision and disappointment. At least he knows those feelings are real.

His mother hasn't held him the way Maery holds Aemond since he was five, she never looked at him like the maid looks at his brother, never asked him about his day, never hummed him lullabies or played with his hair. No one's ever given him that much comfort, he almost fears he'd be overwhelmed by it. Aemond was already considered much more tolerable than Aegon had ever been, but with his injury it's like everyone treats him with the utmost reverence and endearedness and respect. He'll never be as he was, but Aegon would give anything, including his eye, to be handled the way his brother is now.

"C'mon, too shy to tell me now?" He eggs on, shoving Aemond's shoulder. Perhaps more harshly than necessary, struggling to tamp down his jealousy.

"Enough, brother." Aemond demands, scowling at the ground.

"Boys," Ser Criston yells, making them stand at attention. He continues his demonstrative fight against Ser Willis but looks over at the two brothers to make sure they're paying attention.

Aemond glares up at Aegon, rubbing his shoulder and blush-inducingly, eager to tell his Maery about it later. Perhaps it'll even leave a bruise. Aegon's nostrils are flaring as though he's the one who hurt him and not the other way around. For a second, Aemond thinks he sees something more in his eyes than the usual teasing mischief.

Alexyse tries to get as much done as she can now that Aemond is focusing more on his duties, but she's noticed Aegon's been taking note of her recently now, too. Not as closely as Aemond, but enough to where it's creeping on her nerves. She received note from The Red Fingers just yesterday and came very close to being caught by Aegon. They're hastening her, wondering why she's gone so long without giving word to her exploits. How is she to tell them that instead of doing what's been ordered to her, she's taken to mothering the unmothered. She's a woman, and no matter how deadly, how precise and how cold they've proven themselves to be, it'll never be enough. There will always be those to doubt her abilities, who deny her skills. She sent back word of everything she's found out so far and hopes that'll tide them over with the last of the message being that she has more to come once she receives confirmation. Despite the fact that none of that information exists. It was all encoded of course, anyone who reads the note will just assume it was chicken scratch, or the dabblings of a child who just wanted to send something.

Still, this many eyes on her wasn't something she planned nor appreciates. If Aemond had been able to keep their little meetings to himself, that would've been one thing. But he watches her at every chance he gets, the other work staff has noticed and she suspects he's the reason Bylric was hurt. The poor boy is only fourteen and now it's uncertain if his right arm will ever function as it once had, which as a ranch hand is devastating.

She sits now, cleaning the floors of the children's wing with a solution of lye so to not hurt the stones and covering it with gray clay powder to seal, wondering how these people don't get sick more often. They floors before she came laid covered with "sweet rushes", a hay that sounds much more pleasant than it is, to catch everything that falls on the ground. From spit, to vomit from when someone gets nauseous, namely the prince as of late, the leakings men, likely other animals too. Ale droppings, dead animals, food scraps that lead to more rats coming in, and only the gods know what else.

If her mother or her mother's mother witnessed the filth of this place she wouldn't bother trying to clean, she'd just burn it down. The filth is more than just in the home, these people don't bathe as they should. Back in Myr the washing of one's self is daily, with aquafers that take clean, moving water all around the city. Even those without plumbing still wash daily in the rivers that start there and head downstream to the sea. The use of chamber pots shocked her, she can't imagine something more disgusting then hauling around one's own waste. Back home it's taken away by the water systems as well, the water is then disposed of using lye before being replaced in the system by fresh water. After you relieve yourself you clean your bum with a small moss page or wood pulp page sometimes even snake leaf, that you only use once before tossing it to rot and rejoin the dirt.

The scent of the city accosted her when she first arrived and it's been a struggle to grow accustomed to it. The common folk she understands. To bathe here, a large tub is required, plenty of access to clean water, most of which is stagnant here, availability of saponins is scarce, and the time it takes to bathe would cut into the day, that's not including the time to prepare for it. But she doesn't forgive the nobles. What excuses do they have to smell like onions and rot? They can douce themselves with all the floral oils they want, that won't cover the stench.

'I'm being too judgmental,' she thinks to herself 'I'm frustrated and worried that I might not complete my duty as instructed or to their satisfaction, but that is no fault of the people here.'

"Maery," Anida, a maid around her own age calls on her "The queen has summoned you to her chambers."

"Did she say why?" She asks

"Why would she tell me?" She asks with a smirk

"That's true. Thank you, I'll head there now." She gets up off the floor with Anida's help and heads to the queen's chambers with Anida taking her place.

Before she could even knock on the door, it's opened for her. The beautiful queen welcomes her in and gestures for “Maery” to sit across from her.

“I suppose you might be wondering why you’re being seated with me and not with the stuwart.” She begins

“The thought occurred to me, yes.”

“Ms.Mochel and Stuwart Ainsley have very differing opinions about you.”

‘Figures’ she thinks. That asshole Ainsley never treated her with very much respect, and clearly disliked her more than the other maids.

“I don’t know why, your grace.” She admits “Ms.Mochel always receives my work very well and has had me train some of the other maids of the keep.”

“Yes, which is precisely why I’ve summoned you here.” She says, placing a hand on Alexyse’s thigh “My sons have grown quite fond of you. Would you please tell me why, Maery?”

Alexyse didn’t know quite how she should respond to this. On the one hand, what she’s been doing is entirely inappropriate. On the other, it doesn’t seem like the queen is reacting too negatively.

“Well with Daeron all I do is be silly with him,” she begins “He’s only a boy of 6, I make small jokes as I do what’s required of me.”

“I see, and for Aemond?” She presses

“For Prince Aemond it’s a bit more complicated, your grace.” she goes “I first truly met Prince Aemond the night he lost his eye.”

At this, the queen looks down and nods.

“He put up a brave front but that night I went into his room and found him sobbing. He screamed at me to go, to leave him. He even threw something at me.”

The queen makes a small gasp

“Something soft, not anything dangerous. Still I couldn’t move from there, it was like I couldn’t understand what he was ordering me to do.”

“Then what?” Queen Alicent asks

This is the tricky part. How to tell the queen that she didn’t do her motherly duty to her son and instead left that for a perfect stranger to do in her stead?

“I must admit, what I did next was inappropriate.” Alexyse says, hoping that’ll soften the blow to both her and the queen’s ego. “I got into his bed and pressed him very tightly against my chest.”

She holds her breath and waits to see how the queen reacts, when her expression doesn’t change she continues.

“I don’t know why, I suppose it was just instinct. He’s a little boy and he was crying with no one to comfort him. He barely put up a fight before wrapping his arms around me and crying onto my chest.”

“Is that all?” She asks

“That happened that night? Yes.” Alexyse assures

“Are you why Aemond is so concerned with taking more baths?” She asks confused

Her brows furrow at this “I wouldn’t know, your grace.”

“Hmm” is all she says “What happened the following days?”

“The next night I went to change his linens and I found him there smiling at me and calling me my name. I thought the last night made him feel better and thought it would be all. But when I was going to leave and finish my work, he called me back. I told him I’d love to stay but that I had work to finish. The same thing happened the next night only he didn’t leave it at that.” She skips over the part where she stayed the second night with him too. “He went looking for me in the child’s maid’s quarters and when he found me, he woke me up and said he couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m terribly sorry about that Maery,” Queen Alicent says “I’ll make sure to keep his door guarded at night now, he shouldn’t be bothering at such hours for such things.”

“Truly it was less a bother and more a concern, your grace. I didn’t know how badly the loss of his eye had affected him. In any case, I’d rather he came to me and told me if something troubled him. Perhaps not in the middle of the night but since then he’s been trying to keep me with him while he sleeps. I leave once I’m sure he’s going to stay asleep but that’s gotten harder over the last few days.”

“Alright. Now Maery, why hasn’t it occurred to you to come to me about this?”

At this her brow furrows again in feigned confusion “Prince Aemond had told me he had gone to you about this himself. He said you’d assigned me to him and when I asked Ms.Mochel and Stuwart Ainsley, they didn’t negate it, your grace, only said I’m to do household chores while the prince is occupied but to tend to him exclusively when he’s not. I figured I needn’t bother you over something like this when my superiors and your underlings had already approved of it.”

“Well, I had been looking for a hand maid for Aemond but I was looking at noble girls. If he prefers you to them all however, I suppose that would be fine. As long as you don’t expect a noble marriage or something of that sort-“

“No your grace, of course not.”

Part 4 link:

@writingwenches

A03 link:

[cluz1babe]

Is there a reason for the extreme mommy issues all these man children have?

[houseofthepigeon]

[the-mold-on-my-brush]

Oh yeah, Aemond WIP (I’m not on either team some of y’all scare me I just like long haired men💀)

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms (Coming soon)

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. (BTW this will be updated sporadically as I am trying to find that enjoyment for writing again, so we'll see how this goes)

[thee-horny-thicky]

So I binged watched the first three episodes of HotD, and the reappearance of Madame Sylvi shocked me. Mainly because she looks like an older version of Alicent.

Like I'm not tripping, right?

[internet-rat]

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

You know about his mommy issues, and embrace them~ NSFW below cut~

The heavy wooden door to the shared bedroom creaked open, and Aemond stepped in, the weight of the day's courtly battles evident in the rigidity of his posture and the slight furrow of his brow. The contrast between the harsh world of politics and intrigue and the serene, intimate ambiance of the bedroom was striking. As his lilac eye scanned the room and landed on you, adorned in the delicate pink silk that clung to your form like a whisper, a visible shift occurred within him.

Your soft yet commanding voice, layered with a deep understanding of his hidden desires, cut through the remnants of tension that clung to him. "Come to mommy, my pretty boy..." The words were like a key, unlocking a part of him reserved only for the sanctuary you provided. His battle-hardened facade began to melt away with each step he took toward you.

Aemond moved towards you, his expression transforming from the stoic, unyielding prince to a man yearning for the comfort and dominance only you could offer. The titles, the responsibilities, the expectations—all fell away, leaving behind just Aemond, vulnerable and seeking solace.

Reaching you, his strong arms enveloped you, pulling you against him with a desperation that spoke volumes of his need for your nurturing dominance. The cool silk of your gown pressed against him, a stark contrast to the warmth of your embrace, and he let out a long, shuddering breath, his body visibly relaxing.

"Your day was long, my love," you whispered, the authority in your voice soft but undeniable, guiding him to release the burdens he carried. "Let mommy take care of everything now."

Nuzzling into your neck, his breath hot against your skin, Aemond surrendered to the role you crafted for him, his identity as a prince second to his role as your 'pretty boy'. His response was whispered against your skin, filled with relief and adoration, "Yes, mommy...

As you undressed Aemond, your hands moved with a gentle, reassuring touch, easing the layers of his princely attire away from his broad shoulders and down his strong arms. Each piece of clothing that fell to the floor symbolized the shedding of his public persona, revealing the more vulnerable man beneath. Your soft kisses planted along his jawline and down his neck served as sweet rewards, punctuating your murmured praises.

"Such a good boy for me..." Your words were tender, laced with a dominant affection that resonated deeply within him. Aemond responded with a low, contented hum, his body relaxing further under your ministrations. The intimacy of your actions, the close proximity, and the warmth of your breath against his skin were intoxicating.

His hands, usually so commanding and sure, now trembled slightly as they reached up to touch your face, tracing the contours as if memorizing each detail. This reversal of their usual roles—him so open and yielding, you so nurturing yet commanding—was a dance they both cherished deeply.

As your lips met Aemond's, the kiss deepened with an urgent intimacy, your tongue exploring his in a tender yet assertive dance. The warmth and softness of your mouth against his was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, enveloping him in a cocoon of comfort and arousal.

Your hands, skilled and knowing, trailed down his body with a possessive familiarity until they found their way to his arousal. Feeling his hardness, already slick with anticipation, you gently wrapped your fingers around him, your touch firm yet loving. The sensation of your hand on him, combined with the deep kiss, drew a low groan from Aemond, his body tensing and then relaxing under your control.

As your fingers tightened around him, your touch grew more insistent, stroking in a rhythm calculated to draw every shiver and sigh from him. Aemond's response was immediate and intense, his hips bucking slightly into your grasp, driven by instinct and overwhelming desire.

Hovering just inches from his face, your words tumbled softly yet dominantly against his lips, "Already so big and hard for me... Do you want to be inside me, pretty boy? Do you want to be inside mommy?" Each word was laced with promise and authority, stoking the flames of his desire even further.

Aemond's breath caught in his throat, his eye locking onto yours with a mixture of adoration and sheer need. The way you called yourself 'mommy' struck deeply into his core, tapping into his deepest fantasies and vulnerabilities. He nodded fervently, the verbal reply unnecessary when his body so clearly communicated his desperate 'yes.' His hands, trembling with need, reached up to touch your face, pulling you closer, as if trying to convey his longing with every ounce of his being.

"Please," he breathed out, the word a plea, a surrender, echoing the intensity of his need to be united with you completely, to lose himself in the comforting yet commanding presence that only you could provide.

As you positioned yourself above Aemond, the anticipation in his eye was palpable, a silent witness to the culmination of your shared desire. Carefully, you aligned yourself with him, and slowly—exquisitely slowly—you lowered yourself, taking him in completely. The sensation of filling and being filled was profound, both for you and for him, a perfect union that drew a deep, resonant moan from your lips.

"Mmm~ You feel so good inside of me, my darling..." Your voice was a melody of pleasure and affection, enveloping him as completely as your body did. The warmth, the tightness, the perfect rightness of the connection sent shivers through Aemond, his body responding with a primal urge to move.

As you rode him, the rhythm of your movements initially gentle and teasing, gradually intensified. The slow, deliberate motion transformed, gaining speed and urgency, responding to the mutual escalation of need. Your body moved with practiced grace, each rise and fall designed to heighten the pleasure spiraling between you. The sensation of him thrusting up into you in sync with your motions created a deep, rhythmic dance that resonated through your very cores.

Leaning down, your breath hot against his ear, you unleashed the soft yet commanding tone that you knew unraveled him completely. "Cum all the way inside mommy, darling... Can you do that, sweetling?" Your words, laced with a dominant affection, struck directly at his deepest desires, rendering him both helpless and ecstatic under your control.

Aemond's response was a choked gasp, his body tensing as the twin forces of your command and the overwhelming pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. His hands gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as if to anchor himself in the storm of sensation you were guiding him through. His eye, wide and focused entirely on you, mirrored the intensity of his internal struggle to obey, to surrender fully to the moment as you demanded.

"Yes, mommy... I—I will..." he managed to articulate, his voice a strained whisper of utter submission and desperate need. The pace you set and the words you spoke drove him closer to the edge, each thrust a step nearer to the release you commanded of him, his entire being focused on fulfilling the role you so expertly cast him in.

As you leaned forward, your movements became even more aggressive, riding him with an intensity that pushed both of you towards the brink. The shift in position allowed you to take him even deeper, and the sight of your body in full command, coupled with the sensation of your firm, relentless pace, was intoxicating to Aemond. Your long hair cascaded around his face, a silken curtain tickling his skin, a sensory addition that only heightened his arousal.

Grasping the bedframe for leverage, your arms showed the strain of your efforts, muscles flexing beautifully under your skin. You looked down at him, your eyes locking with his as you commanded in that irresistible tone, "Give mommy your cum~" The words were both a command and an invocation, spoken with such authority and seductive power that they left no room for anything but compliance.

Aemond was completely undone beneath you, caught in the storm of your dominance and the physical ecstasy you were driving him towards. His breathing grew ragged and desperate, each thrust meeting yours with an urgency that mirrored the rising tide of his climax. The combination of your commanding voice, the relentless pace, and the deep connection of your bodies was overwhelming.

With a groan that bordered on a growl, his body tensed, and he surrendered fully to the command you had given. His release was powerful, spurred on by your words and actions, a testament to the control you held over him in these moments. As he came, his eyes remained locked with yours, raw and open in a way that he showed to no one but you. His climax was a surrender not just of his body, but of his very self, given over to the care and command of his beloved.

[lilycatttt]

Everyone on just needs there mom Frll

[stars-that-fell-over]

Was anyone else getting Homelander vibes when Aemond was being served hot milk in a brothel?